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#thank you walter. you know what’s up
nightingaletrash · 7 months
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thinking about Sparrow and how both times she reunites with someone from her past, it just makes her feel like a ghost in someone else's skin.
When Derrick greets her in Old Town, its like he's mistaken her for someone else entirely. She's not the little girl who ran around with her big sister, collecting warrants for a gold piece, but she can't bring herself to say so. She doesn't have the words yet, doesn't quite understand where the discomfort is coming from. She brushes it off as a symptom of returning to her childhood home. She's come home, but she and home are different now and she can't really explain it.
But then she comes back from the Spire, and she's changed once more. Before she was hurting. Now she's broken. A bundle of survival instincts wrapped up in the skin of a woman who has come back wrong, and she will never be the same again. She comes home to a husband and a child who don't know her, and she doesn't know them either. She loved them once, and they loved her. But now she's a stranger and she's broken, and nothing matters anymore. Nothing but killing Lucien at all costs. She can't love them the way she used to. Love is for people, and she's not a person. She doesn't know what she is besides her goal.
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asheanon · 3 months
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Showing some appreciation with a 😳 to Branson from Angela!
(Still figuring out how these work but they look fun so I want to give it a shot! 😅)
(💕 You got this, my dude. As long as the context is there and/or readable, it's all good - and it always has been for the things you've sent in! You're doing just fine.~)
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". . ."
When a pretty face lets you know that you're "pretty" and you don't have the processing power to properly react to that information as you've never felt "pretty." Not for a single day in your life.
"... Thanks."
Like a turtle retreating within its shell, it is as if he too withdraws beneath the brim of his hat. Though portraying the monotonous standard, there is a rosiness to what can still be seen of his ashen, hirsute cheeks. 🖤
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The Farmer's Daughter 1
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Walter Marshall
Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)
Part of the Backwoods AU
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You stand on your tiptoes, a dangerous choice as you stand on a wooden stool, reaching to clip pegs around the folded edge of the linen sheet. You clasp it over the cord in three places and reel along the length, bending to pull a wet pillowcase from the basket.
“You’re grinding on the clutch,” Walter’s voice carries through the barn door before he emerges, “you need another driving lesson.”
“I know how to drive stick,” your brother, Timothy, argues with the larger man. “It’s not the clutch.”
“Ermph,” the other man grunts in return.
“Thanks for having a look though,” Timothy slaps his arm lightly.
He gets another grumble from the chronically grumpy man. Walter is older than your brother, by quite a bit; and you too. He’s tall and burly and his brow never truly loses its furrow. He’s fonder of your father than Timothy; you’re sure if he didn’t feel some kinship with your father, he’d never venture this far.
Walter is a big, burly man. He has a lumbering gait you can recognise even as he’s at the property’s edge, and his curly hair falls messily around his chiseled face. There’s a touch of silver in one curl but his age doesn’t show otherwise.
You refocus on hanging the laundry. You stand on your toes and strain to clip the beg on the line. The stool wobbles and you put your feet flat, steadying it. You suck in your lower lip and look around. Timothy’s gone, you hear him back in the barn clattering through the toolbox, but Walter remains. He narrows his eyes at you as you give a sheepish smile.
“Hi, Mr. Marshall,” you say.
“Hey,” he returns in his way.
You don’t expect much more so you wind the line further and once more bend to take another piece of clothing. You quickly forget his presence and go back to your precarious game. Back on your toes, the stool tips and you gasp, a scream catching in your throat as you brace yourself for the violent tumble.
You don’t hit the ground though. You barely even tip as you're caught under the arms. You open your eyes as Walter holds you well over the ground. He does so effortlessly. 
“I… Mr. Marshall, thank you,” you breathe.
“You shouldn’t do that,” he grits.
“Um, I know,” you wiggle your feet and look at the ground, “um, can you put me down.” He does just that and you laugh at yourself, “thanks.”
“Hm,” he sidles down to the basket. 
To your surprise he takes out the next sheet and easily throws it over the line. He holds out a hand but you just stare at his calloused palm. What is he doing?”
“Pin,” he demands gruffly.
“Oh, uh, sure,” you step up and place a pin in his hand. His fingers brush around yours as he closes them. You retract your reach as he clasps it over the linen. He puts his hand out for the next and again, you hand one over.
“Don’t do it again,” he says as he grabs the next piece of laundry.
“Mr. Marshall, I won’t, but you don’t need to–”
“It’s fine,” he carries on, set on his mission of putting out the drying. “Your father wouldn’t be happy if I let you hurt yourself.”
“Erm, I guess,” you give him another pin.
He’s silent as his blue gray eyes fixate on his chore. He bends to grab more, drapes the cloth over, and takes a pin to secure it in place. You work in wordless rhythm until the basket is empty and the line is full.
“How is he?” He asks.
You put your hands behind you and wring them, “better. Ma says he’ll be home next week.”
He nods and looks at you. He crosses his arms, straining the fabric of his long-sleeved tee. It’s warm out, enough to dampen his shirt with sweat. Still, he doesn't seem to mind.
“If you need anything,” he peers around the fields, “big place for just you and the other one.”
“Oh, Tim? Yeah, we manage.”
He scratches the scruff on his chin and shifts his stance. You’ve never seen him flinch before, never hesitate or doubt, but in that moment, he seems unsure. He clears his throat and drops his hand.
“Well, have a good day,” he bows his head slightly. “Have your brother take down the laundry.”
You look away guiltily, staring at the stool, “you, too, Mr. Marshall.”
He backs away a few steps and you cautiously glance at his boots as he does. He stops and you hold your breath.
“I don’t mind Walt,” he says.
“Right,” your voice flutters, “Walt.”
He twists on his heel and continues across the grass to the trodden road. He follows it down towards the fence. You tear your gaze away and gather up the basket and the stool. You leave them on the porch and sit in the shade as sweat speckles on your forehead.
Your heart is still racing, likely from your near disastrous slip. You think you will have Timothy take down the sheets. You may even convince him to help your fold.
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norrisleclercf1 · 3 months
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Doctor Charles who starts doing teeny tiny gestures to show maybe he’s not such a dick and actually cares about you
A/N: Good ole Dr. Charles who is cold but warm with you
It was another hard shift, one where you just wanted to quiet your job. Dr. Charles was on the night shift with you and you couldn't help but cast glances his way. After that night where he forced you to sleep, you noticed that he was going easier on you than anyone else.
The others didn't like it, but you always stepped in when he went all Dr. Devil and he'd calm down and apologize leaving your coworkers in shock at the fact he'd go all nice whenever you were around. "Here," Jumping you open your eyes to see Charles sliding a protein bar your way.
"What's this for?" You ask, opening it and taking a bite. "You need to stay awake. Also, noticed you haven't eaten all day." He mumbles and passes off a chart. "Should put your glasses on." You pass, which has Charles turning, squinting at you. "Why?" "Your handwriting is atrocious right now, noticed it gets worse the more your eyes get tired. Here," You slide his glasses out of your pockets and hand them to him.
"You left these at the last trauma." Charles just nods, and gently takes them and slides them on. "Thanks," He turns and walks off leaving you with a slight blush.
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"Dammit, just can't you work!" You kick your med cart, as you couldn't get your simple insulin out for your regular. "Stop," Charles rushes over and grabs your foot as you go to kick the cart again. "I just want my stupid insulin for Walter." You snap, as Charles gently steps back with you.
"This is my trick for this one." Charles moves and shoves the drawer in and lifts up before pulling it back and revealing your insulin. "How'd you know that? Don't know many doctors who pull their own meds." You move and grab the vial.
"I did my internship here when I was a newly graduated medical student. Would help the nurses." You stare at him like he's grown another head at the reveal. "What? I was nice, once." Charles moves and closes the draw walking off.
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He couldn't help but watch you as you helped a kid who was in an accident. He loves watching you work, ever since he let you take that nap he refused to see you that burnt out again. Especially when he's the one that caused it. Charles wanted nothing more than to see you smile all the time, he knew what the other nurses called him and he could care less as long as you were smiling at him.
Charles didn't even know he was moving until he was behind you and smiling at the boy. "Hi there, I'm Charles." The kid smiles as you clean his wound. The boy was crying but seemed to stop seeing Charles. "What's your name?" Charles pulls a stool over and sits down and starts cleaning the other scraps.
"Andy." The kid whispers and Charles nods, "I like that name, how old are you?" Andy smile and pulls his hands back showing he's 5. "5? That's a great age, I remember being five. I really loved cars." Andy giggles and moves closer to charles. "I like red cars," "So do I!" Charles and Andy laugh and you have to stop yourself from melting as you get Andy all cleaned up and transferred to Peds.
"Hey, Charles?" Charles turns as he waved off Andy. "What's up?" You take a deep breath and smile. "Will you go on a date with me?" You wait as you see Charles smile grow wide. "Yeah,"
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Writing Advice #?: Don’t write out accents.
The Surface-Level Problem: It’s distracting at best, illegible at worst. 
The following passage from Sons and Lovers has never made a whit of sense to me:
“I ham, Walter, my lad,’ ’e says; ‘ta’e which on ’em ter’s a mind.’ An’ so I took one, an’ thanked ’im. I didn’t like ter shake it afore ’is eyes, but ’e says, ‘Tha’d better ma’e sure it’s a good un. An’ so, yer see, I knowed it was.’”
There’s almost certainly a point to that dialogue — plot, character, theme — but I could not figure out what the words were meant to be, and gave up on the book.  At a lesser extreme, most of Quincey’s lines from Dracula (“I know I ain’t good enough to regulate the fixin’s of your little shoes”) cause American readers to sputter into laughter, which isn’t ideal for a character who is supposed to be sweet and tragic.  Accents-written-out draw attention to mechanical qualities of the text.
Solution #1: Use indicators outside of the quote marks to describe how a character talks.  An Atlanta accent can be “drawling” and a London one “clipped”; a Princeton one can sound “stiff” and a Newark one “relaxed.”  Do they exaggerate their vowels more (North America) or their consonants more (U.K., north Africa)?  Do they sound happy, melodious, frustrated?
The Deeper Problem: It’s ignorant at best, and classist/racist/xenophobic at worst.
You pretty much never see authors writing out their own accents — to the person who has the accent, the words just sound like words.  It’s only when the accent is somehow “other” to the author that it gets written out.
And the accents that we consider “other” and “wrong” (even if no one ever uses those words, the decision to deliberately misspell words still conveys it) are pretty much never the ones from wealthy and educated parts of the country.  Instead, the accents with misspelled words and awkward inflection are those from other countries, from other social classes, from other ethnicities.  If your Maine characters speak normally and your Florida characters have grammatical errors, then you have conveyed what you consider to be correct and normal speech.  We know what J.K. Rowling thinks of French-accented English, because it’s dripping off of Fleur Delacour’s every line.
At the bizarre extreme, we see inappropriate application of North U.K. and South U.S.-isms to every uneducated and/or poor character ever to appear in fan fic.  When wanting to get across that Steve Rogers is a simple Brooklyn boy, MCU fans have him slip into “mustn’t” and “we is.”  When conveying that Robin 2.0 is raised poor in Newark, he uses “ain’t” and “y’all” and “din.”  Never mind that Iron Man is from Manhattan, or that Robin 3.0 is raised wealthy in Newark; neither of them ever gets a written-out accent.
Solution #2: A little word choice can go a long way, and a little research can go even further.  Listen carefully to the way people talk — on the bus, in a café, on unscripted YouTube — and write down their exact word choice.  “We good” literally means the same thing as “no thank you,” but one’s a lot more formal than the other.  “Ain’t” is a perfectly good synonym for “am not,” but not everyone will use it.
The Obscure Problem: It’s not even how people talk.
Look at how auto-transcription software messes up speaking styles, and it’s obvious that no one pronounces every spoken sound in every word that comes out of their mouth.  Consider how Americans say “you all right?”; 99% of us actually say something like “yait?”, using tone and head tilt to convey meaning.  Politicians speak very formally; friends at bars speak very informally.
An example: I’m from Baltimore, Maryland.  Unless I’m speaking to an American from Texas, in which case I’m from “Baltmore, Marlind.”  Unless I’m speaking to an American from Pennsylvania, in which case I’m from “Balmore, Marlin.”  If I’m speaking to a fellow Marylander, I’m of course from “Bamor.”  (If I’m speaking to a non-American, I’m of course from “Washington D.C.”)  Trying to capture every phoneme of change from moment to moment and setting to setting would be ridiculous; better just to say I inflect more when talking to people from outside my region.
When you write out an accent, you insert yourself, the writer, as an implied listener.  You inflict your value judgments and your linguistic ear on the reader, and you take away from the story.
Solution #3: When in doubt, just write the dialogue how you would talk.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 months
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the slow night
buttercup, chapter six
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a/n: he a hoe and I love him. thank you and goodnight.
summary: as the peck blossomed into something much more ravenous, a soft laugh began to billow out of you, “Mr. Murdock,” you tilted your head back as his lips began to flutter down your neck, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you came over here to seduce me.”
warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, smut, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, the black daredevil suit, kissing, semi public sex (at the bakery), clothed sex, dirty talk, hair pulling, oral, protected sex, penetrative sex, multiple orgasms
word count: 3244
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
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Leaning against the doorway to the small bakery bathroom, you watched Walter’s tongue poke out the side of his mouth as he flicked glittery stripes of eyeliner over his lids. 
“You sure you’re okay with closing up on your own tonight?” you heard Howard ask you as he sat on a low stool some space behind you, bending down to tie his shoes. 
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you smiled, glancing back over your shoulder at him, “you two deserve a night off.”
Staring out into space, your uncle leaned his tattooed forearms on his robust thighs a moment as he murmured, “you know, I don’t even remember the last time we went out…” casting a glance past you at the bald man in front of the mirror, Howard raised his voice, “honey, did you find out what queens are performing tonight?”
Popping the lid back on the pencil, the former club kid tilted his head approvingly in the reflection, “I think Holly Day still works Friday nights there, but other than that I have no idea,” he exited the bathroom, only to press a small peck to your cheek as he slid passed.
“Urgh,” you groaned with a smile, letting your inner child temporarily show as you dragged the back of your palm over the faint lipstick stain, “well, have fun you two!”
“Night, night, cupcake,” Howard blew you a few brief kisses as the pair scurried out of the shop, “don’t forget to feed the sourdough starter, oh! And mix a new batch of ginger maple cookies, portion them out and pop them in the freezing–, also–”
“Howard,” you interrupted him with a smile just as Walter pulled open the back door for them to exit, “I know what I need to do. I’ve done this countless of times before, I’ll be perfectly fine.”
“Alright,” he exhaled slowly.
“If it’ll help, I can send you a picture of the place before I lock up.”
A relieved smile then warmed up your uncle’s features, “thank you, sweetie.” 
Half yanking his husband out of the door, Walter offered you one last wave, “bye, Y/n!” before the solid door slammed shut behind them. 
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Bending down, you put the last one of the wide and clean bowls away on the bottom shelf of the metal storage system in the corner of the kitchen. 
The skirt of your dress swooshed gently around your legs as you straightened back up, like a summer breeze, fluttering against your skin. Reaching for a clean cloth, you briefly ran it under the tap before wiping down the aftermath beside the sink following your dance with the dishes. One of the tiny puddles of splashed water soaked your apron as you leaned over the steel table to reach deeper, turning it a darker shade of brown right over your belly button. 
Just then, from out of nowhere, “hi,” the voice of your neighbour echoed throughout the kitchen, thoroughly startling you and causing the rag to drop from your grasp.
“Ah!” you jumped, haven not even heard the back door creak open, “Matthew!” pressing a soothing palm to your chest as you spun around, a light giggle flowed from your lips, “oh my god, you scared the crap out of me!”
“Sorry,” he chuckled, leisurely leaning against the far counter close to the back exit. 
You already knew he’d be out on patrol tonight, but actually seeing him stand there before you was something else entirely. The black suit clung tight to his physic, and now that grave injuries no longer distracted and adorned his visage, the vision of the obsidian vigilante that stood in front of you proficiently provided you with a sinful shiver that trickled down your spine. 
“What are you doing here?” you asked, attempting to brush off the tingle that bloomed between your thighs. 
A bold smirk bloomed on his lips, visible below the dark mask, as he slowly stepped closer to you, “it’s a slow night,” gently tugging his gloves off and tossing them to the table he passed, an action you didn’t expect to find as seductive as you evidently did, goosebumps now blossoming all along your arms. 
“A slow night, huh?” you chuckled, tilting your chin as he neared. 
“And I was in the area,” he cocked his head as his hands settled on either side of your frame, leaning against the counter behind you.   
“How convenient,” you smiled, his light-hearted explanations not convincing you in the slightest. Matt’s fingers then found your chin, tilting it further up as he bent down to brush his lips against your own. Your knees nearly buckled as you felt yourself swiftly sink into the intoxicating sensation, your arms gliding up and over the black fabric that hugged him, till they were locked around his neck. As the peck blossomed into something much more ravenous, a soft laugh began to billow out of you, “Mr. Murdock,” you tilted your head back as his lips began to flutter down your neck, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you came over here to seduce me.”
Mirroring your own chuckle, he playfully tested, “and what if I am, huh?”
“Wait, really?” you giggled, your hands seized each side of his face and pulled him back a bit as his hot mouth worked wonders at making you lose your train of thought, “you sure you weren’t just hungry or something?”
“Hm,” his palms slid up to cup over yours as he cheekily said, “something, yeah…” peeling your fingers off of his stubbly cheeks, he placed a few pecks in your open palms, “I would fucking love a taste of something sweet.”
Tearing your gaze away from his onyx visage, you briefly cast a glance around the space, “uhm, I don’t really know what’s left over from today, but there might be someth–”
“Nuh-uh, that’s not the kinda treat I was thinking of,” he smirked brightly as he wrapped his arms around your waist, drawing you in closer to his warmth as his fingers sneaked under the apron’s knot. 
Finally reading his obvious subtext, “o-oh,” you couldn’t help but giggle as he then leaned down to kiss you again, swallowing your laugh till it melted away into a low moan that vibrated against his lavish tongue. 
Scrambling closer, you damn nearly climbed him like a tree with how desperately you clawed at his mass. When his touch slid further down your frame and curved around your ass, he briefly offered you a squeeze that you swore soared all the way to the sensitive nerve endings in your throbbing clit, before he scooped you up and sat you down on the steel countertop. As he slotted his width in between your parted thighs, his teeth playfully caught your bottom lip. 
Fluttering your fingers further up, you cupped the sides of his face as the heated make-out slowly began to ease. The tips of your touch grazed the bottom of his black mask as you gently pulled back.
Blinking back at him through your lashes, your digits ghosted over the material as you uttered, “…can I take this off?” 
A faint smile tugged at his lips as he softly nodded, “mhm,” and let you peel the charcoal mask off of him. Letting it drop to the table right beside where you sat, you gazed back at him for a moment, his chocolate eyes gently crinkled up in bliss as you briefly traced a light caress over a few of his newly revealed features before you sealed your lips with his once more. 
Undoubtedly, your panties must have clung to your core at this point from how soaked they felt. 
Abruptly, Matt’s soft lips suddenly strayed from yours. Fluttering your gaze open, a giggle bubbled out of your lungs as you saw him slowly sink down to the tile floor beneath you. 
“Matty,” you beamed, your touch straying from his cheek as he settled down on his knees. 
Slowly raising a sliver of your hemline up to your knees, his lips grazed against your shin and leisurely roamed further north. 
Burying your fingers in the fabric of your dress, you gently began to hike it up till it, and the brown apron, bunched above your hips. 
Your breathing was ragged, and your mouth hung agape when his kisses neared your centre. One of his warm palms stayed planted on your inner thigh after he’d split your legs further to grant himself better access as you sat there, nearly dangling on the edge. 
A shiver ran through you when he placed a brief kiss to the soaked spot soddening your underwear, before his reach extended and hooked the cotton to the side, a sting of your slick clung momentarily to the fabric before snapping back against your core. 
“Fuck,” he let out a gravelly groan and you felt his breath tickle your cunt before his hand, the one not clutching your soaked panties, curled around your frame and tugged you towards him, closing the minuscule distance between his zealous mouth and your glistening centre.
Parting your petals with dizzying laps, Matt let out a moan as he made out with your pussy, the tickling vibrations caused your thighs to tremble beside his head. 
“God…” spellbound, he pulled back for but a second, “your pussy tastes like fucking heaven,” before he tilted his chin and enraptured your clit, fervently sucking down on it in a way that made your eyes roll in your skull. 
“Oh my god, I–, I–…” you panted, sensing yourself race towards the finish line, but even with how incredible his tongue made you feel, deep down within you rumbled a feral feeling for more. As your pelvis bucked lightly against his efforts, you gasped, “Matt… get up…” unsure if you’d ever felt so empty in your entire life, “get up right fucking now.” When he rose, the lower part of his face glinting with your want, he didn’t get a chance to say anything before you yanked him by his shirt and crashed your lips against his. With the intoxicating taste of yourself lingering on your mouth, your heavy breath fanned across his face as you desperately uttered, “in the corner behind you, on the hook beside where my coat is, my bag, the little front pocket.”
Breathlessly, his expression fogged up in soft puzzlement, “what?” 
“I went to the drugstore earlier,” you said, hoping that you wouldn’t have to spell it out for him. 
It actually took him a second for him to realise what you were talking about, “oh,” as if he hadn’t hoped or expected anything more than what you’d just let him do. Crossing the room in mere moments, a playful chuckle rumbled from his chest as he fished out the box of condoms, “this is a big pack… were you planning on seducing me?”
Rolling your eyes, you giggled, “oh, shut up and get back here.”
As soon as he was back in your reach, your fingers began to fiddle with his belt, impatiently freeing him as you virtually drooled seeing the imprint of his cock strain against the dark fabric of his pants. 
“Put it on, please, please, I wanna feel you so bad,” you begged as he ripped the foil packet open. 
“Oh, yeah?” 
“Yes, please,” your hungry eyes were glued to his breath-taking fist as he offered himself a brief pump before he hastily rolled the condom on, “Matt, if you don’t fuck me right now then I’ll lose my fucking mind.”
Sighs flowed from the both of you in unison when Matt sank into your drooling cunt. You almost felt drunk, that’s how wound up you’d gotten.
“Oh, you feel so fucking good,” Matt exhaled, letting his forehead melt against your own as he rolled his hips, getting impossibly deep before drawing back a bit and finding a rhythm that caused your legs to be like crickets, shakily rubbing against either side of his frame as fucked you, “sweetheart–, christ… you’re about to cum, aren’t you?” his lips tilted up into a smirk. 
“D-don’t you dare stop,” you panted, clawing needily against his torso. 
“I won’t, I promise,” he then sank a hand down between your frames to tickle your puffy pearl, “I could do this all day, baby.” 
You collapsed back on your elbows when your pussy fluttered around him and a lewd cry accompanied the high. 
Panting against the cool table, you hazily blinked up at him as he then uttered in the deepest sincerity. 
“God, I'm crazy about you, Y/n,” his expression was soft and dreamlike, “you know that?”
Your eyes went wide a moment, entirely forgetting how to fill your aching lungs, “really?” you then regained control rather gracelessly as you nearly coughed, “sorry... I forgot how to breathe for a second there,” the grin that bloomed on your lips nearly hurt.  
Snatching one of your hands up in his, he weaved his fingers with your own, “you okay?”
“Yeah… I’m amazing…” you gazed up at him, “I’m also completely and utterly wild about you,” you then tugged on his hand, drawing him down enough for your lips to graze against his. 
His hips instinctively rolled as your tongue flicked across his own, grinding briefly into your sensitivity before he noticed and went back to being completely still within you. 
But when your sloppy kiss then parted, you tilted your own hips a bit, slowly fucking yourself shallowly on his cock. As he gently offered you a tender thrust, gradually pulling out of your clinging cunt just a tad, you glanced down between the shy space betwixt you and spotted the ring of your cream that stained the base of his dick. 
“Fucking hell,” you whimpered as he straightened his spine back out and brought the back of your palm up to his lips, “I don’t get how I bounce back so quickly with you. It’s like you just have to smile and then I’m just–, oh my god!” you moaned as he changed his angle, brushing directly against a spot that sent a delicious shiver down your spine. 
“Oh, you like that? Right there?” he repeated the same lavish motion. 
“Y-yes–,” with your interlocked fingers, he then pulled you back up to a sitting position, the shift leaving you breathless, “fuck. You feel so good right now,” his hand let go of yours as it then snaked around your back, his burly forearm supporting your spine as the fingers reached up to weave within your hair, gently scraping his short nails over the nape of your neck.
Drawing you in even closer, your chest pressed against his as he kissed your cheek sweetly while he kept his pace meticulous and precise. 
Hugging onto his broad shoulders, your head dropped down to rest against one of them as you then muttered, “harder,” your gaze hazy on the kitchen behind him before your eyes fluttered shut. When he then snapped his hips forward a little more electrically, you weakly repeated in his ear, “harder.”
Slamming into your needy cunt so fiercely that the sound of your skin colliding echoed off the tile walls and a bit of drool began to stain his dark shirt as your cheek stayed smooshed against his width. 
“That it?” he growled silkily, “huh?” but when you couldn’t form any coherent words within the mess of moans that flowed from your lips, you didn’t have to see his face to know the grin that bloomed on his face, “aw, it’s alright, sweetheart,” his grip tightened in your hair, “you’re doing so good for me,” tugging intoxicatingly right at the roots, “just relax… that’s it… good girl…”
Keeping his pace rough, he lavishly slid out of you till just his bulbous tip plugged you up, before ramming his cock back in so feverishly that you could scarcely breathe at all, just tremble in his embrace, listening to the pure filth that he murmured in your ear, till you both tumbled over the edge. 
With his spent girth nuzzled against your tender pussy, faint hums of contentment flowed from your lungs as Matt gently stroked your hair, his other arm wrapped around you as well as he kept your sluggish frame close to his long after you’d both regained your breaths. 
As your fingers disappeared below his neckline and softly rubbed against the warm skin, your voice eventually found his ear, “okay, so I know that you didn’t come in here for a late-night snack,” the corners of your lips tilted upwards, “but now I’m kinda hungry.” 
With a gentle chuckle rumbling within his chest, he briskly tugged himself away and untangled himself from you, “one second,” his lips pressed against your hairline before you saw him turn around and wander out of the kitchen. 
As you watched him disappear into the front of the bakery, you tugged your panties back over your mess and pushed your dress back down, “oh, I'm not sure if there’s anything left out there–”
“Do you want a raisin bun or a very seedy one?” he asked and your brows flew up as you still hadn’t gotten used to how perceptive his heightened senses let him be. 
“Oh, uhm,” you blinked, completely blown away, “raisin.” 
Appearing before you once more, he handed you the speckled bun, “here.”
Smiling adoringly back at him, “thank you,” you sank your teeth into the pillowy treat before offering him a small bite, which he gladly accepted as a tender laugh rolled out of him. When you had consumed the sweet bun, a soft yawn promptly flowed out of you, “fuck,” his palms were warm at your waist as your arms briefly curled up beside your head, “I can’t wait to get back home and sleep.”
“How much do you have left to do till you can lock up?”
“Not too much,” your hands dropped back down and rested atop of his for a moment, “how about you? How long do you think you’ll be out there?” 
“Probably not too much longer either,” his head tilted gently before he leaned back in. 
“Alright,” you smiled, tenderly pressing your lips to his before he snatched up the discarded mask and tugged it back over his features. As his feet began to carry him towards the exit, he paused as soon as you said, “hey Matt?”
“Yeah?” the vigilante twisted back to face you. 
A bubble of nerves suddenly fluttered in your belly as you uttered, “when you get back tonight, could you maybe–, uhm… or maybe I could–…”
Swiftly getting at what you were trying to convey, Matt simply marched right back to where you sat and pulled you in for a kiss. Cradling your cheeks a moment longer as he slowly pulled back, he smiled, “there’s a spare key to my place behind the radiator in the hallway.”
Gazing back at him, you uttered, “okay,” feeling like you were floating on a cloud. 
“I'll try not to get home too late,” he breathed, pressing his lips to yours one last time before he backed up again. 
Calling after him, “be safe!” he stopped on the threshold of the back door for a second, silhouetted by the dark city as he flashed you a grin before he disappeared into the night, leaving you in the bakery alone, feet dangling off the table as a bright smile tenaciously lit up your face. 
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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bellarkeselection · 4 months
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for cole walter, could you do one where reader replaces jackie (so her fam died and she moved in with the walter’s) and cole doesn’t really like her. one day she gets a cold, and cole takes care of her (begrudgingly) and realizes she isn’t so bad 🫶🏼🥹
Cole Walter Does Care
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Tag list- send me an ask to be added @cognacdelights @connieisthesun
I rolled over in my bed and felt a headache coming on the second I woke up which really sucked. Slowly sitting up I thought I would feel better that only seemed to make it worse. My nose was beginning to get stuffy and my throat felt dry. Footsteps came from the hallway and I heard whoever it was pause outside my door. “Hey Y/n, my mom is making breakfast. Woah you don’t look too good.”
“Thanks Alex - uh I didn’t know that.” I started coughing and then reached over needing to blow my nose into some tissues.
He entered my room with a sad expression. “I can get my mom to check you out if you want.”
“Please do.” I whimpered, sounding so helpless tugging the covers back over my chest.
He nodded, rushing out of the room and going downstairs to go get her. “On it, Y/n.” Once he was gone I yanked the coves over my head screaming and coughing into my blankets.
“Sounds like there’s a dying angry animal in here. Oh no sorry it’s just you Y/n.” I noticed the voice of Cole who when I peaked my head above the blanket saw that he was leaning in my doorway.
Grumbling under my breath I really wasn’t in the mood for his teasing. “Go away Cole. I’m not feeling good and you’ll just make it worse.”
“Ah now I’m offended since most people find my company to be quite enjoyable.” He walked into my bedroom sitting down on the side of my bed moving the cover down from my eyes so he could see some of my face.
“Well I d-don’t-“ I attempted to say but another coughing fit had to hit me right before his mother and Alex came back into my bedroom.
Catherine sat down and pushed Cole off the bed, putting a hand to my forehead. “Oh you're burning up. You'll just have to stay in bed today and miss the fair.”
“Okay Skylar and Tara won't be happy.” I responded in a tired breath.
She shakes her head eyeing her older son. “I'm sure they'll understand honey. Cole, I need you to stay and take care of her.”
“What the hell!” He raised his voice, accidentally cursing at his mother.
I sat upright on the pillows but had a coughing fit as a result. “No! He doesn't need to be here…”
“This is not up for discussion. Y/n you are really sick and Cole you will be staying home to take care of her. Because you're grounded after we found out you were sneaking girls out of the house. Come on, Alex.” She got to her feet and she left with Alex following her downstairs leaving us alone in my bedroom together.
Laying my head back down on the pillows I yanked the covers over my head screaming into it until Cole made a comment. “Don't think I'm happy about this either.”
“Oh sure. I'm sorry my illness prevented you from hooking up with Erin or Olivia or Paige!” I snapped at him.
His green eyes glared at me. “You don't have the right to judge my life.”
“Neither do you about me then!” I growled turning my back towards him.
Cole watched me for a little while hearing me doze off for a few hours of sleep. He sure found you annoying at times but there was something about you that he liked. It was the fact that you fought with him over the most ridiculous stuff. Most girls just fell at his beck and call except you. He walked around the room noticing a notebook laying on the desk. “Y/n's diary…hmm. I can't deny that I may have feelings for Cole even though he drives me nuts.” He debated reading it but when he flipped to one of the middle he heard you groan waking up.
“Cole, I'm gonna puke.” I moaned, struggling to get out from under the blankets.
He dropped the book rushing over to me, he put one arm underneath my shoulder and the other under the back of my knees carrying me through the door and across to the bathroom on this floor. “I've got ya…I've got ya.” He reassured me when I collapsed onto my knees puking in the toilet.
I felt one of his hands holding my hair back and the other was rubbing my back till I was finished. “Thanks Cole…”
“You’re welcome. See I'm not a total asshole.” He responded sitting across from me on the floor. His honey blonde hair was tossed and in his eyes like always.
Hugging my knees to my chest, my hair was a wreck and my nose was red. I looked like a complete mess and I didn't care for it one bit. His green eyes remained on me before I asked him not to handle the silence well. “If you wanna say something to me just go on and get it out, Walter.”
“I read part of your diary after you fell asleep. I know how you feel about me and honestly I'm shocked given how I've treated you.” He shrugged his shoulders like it was just a casual thing to say to someone.
I raised my voice in frustration grabbing a tissue when I had to sneeze two or three times. “You read my diary! Cole, you have no right to that. How much did you read - god I want to crawl in a hole now I'm so embarrassed.” Covering my face that was red as a tomato avoiding his gaze.
“Aren't you going to ask me how I felt about it?” Cole questioned with a curious look on his face.
Knitting my brows at the former star football player. “You’re telling me you have a crush on me. Yeah right. I'll believe it in another universe.”
“Do you believe me when I do this?” He shifted onto his knees coming closer to me.
Lifting my head up he cut my question off. “What are you doing-” His lips landed right on mine. Cole scooted closer and placed his hands on either side of my face. I wanted to push him away because I was sick and two because he shouldn't even couldn’t really be kissing me now.
Trailing my hands up his chest my arms wrapped around his neck and he moaned into the kiss after we had gotten closer. Cole tugged me up to sit down on his lap wrapping his arms around my waist holding me close to his chest as possible. “Cole, stop - Cole stop. We can’t be doing this.” Pushing my hands on his chest he drew back confused.
“Because you're sick. I don't care about that. I just needed you to know that I actually care about you, Y/n.” He declared still cupping my face on his hands green eyes so focused on me.
Moving one hand through his honey hair, my other drops to his shoulder blade. “I can't believe it, Cole Walter has a crush on me. Here I was thinking you hated me.” I chuckled with a half grin.
“Why did you think I only picked on you when you first got here. I figured you had a thing for bad guys in you somewhere. Just had to bring it out of ya, darling.” Cole tucked hair behind my ear before he could hear a lot of footsteps heading up the wooden stairs outside the shut bathroom door.
“What do we - uh do!” I sneezed where Cole gave me a tissue and I wiped my nose watching him get to his feet.
He scooped me up bridal style once more where I wrapped my arms around his neck enjoying the feeling of being in his arms like this. “Don't worry, we'll go to my room. They all know better than to go in there…now where we're we?” He carried me quickly out and into his room, closing and locking the door.
“Cole, I'm nowhere near ready for that kind of thing. Sorry if that disappoints you.” I apologize for crawling under the covers on his bed, blushing a deep shade of red.
He kicked off his shoes and got in beside me, gently pushing my head down in the crock of his neck so I would fall asleep. “I don't care about sleeping with you yet. I just wanted to see you blush.”
“Cole!” I punched his chest hearing him laugh and it was music to me considering he rarely ever laughs.
He kissed the crown of my head and watched my eyes begin to close shut. “I'm just playing with ya, Y/n. Now get some rest.” I closed my eyes and looped my hand with his freehand that wasn't playing with hair to make me dose off in his arms.
Comments really appreciated ❤️
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julieloves074 · 4 months
Text
I'm yours (Alex Walter x Reader)
Summary: When Jackie comes to town your best friend, and childhood crush, Alex Walter falls head over heels leaving you left behind but when you attend Will's wedding with someone something changes...
Warnings: Swearing, kissing, heartbreak
Words: 6.1k
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(Not my GIF :))
The day Jackie arrived in town was an interesting one to say the least. The Walter house was a second home to me all my life, growing up at the ranch next door meant I grew up chasing around the fields with the Walter kids.
It was during dinner at theirs, Walter games night, that Katherine announced her dearest friend had passed away in a car accident and her daughter was going to move in with them. The reactions around the table were mixed, but mostly everyone was just shocked. Over the next months there were whispers and chatter, but I was not prepared for what it would be like when she arrived.
“Morning,” Katherine says when I walked through the front door, her and George were putting on their shoes and jackets.
“Off to get Jackie?” I asked already knowing the answer, I was curious about her, it would be nice to have another girl around.
“Yeah, are you staying around for dinner tonight? It’ll be nice for Jackie to have another girl around today I reckon,” Katherine asked, quite literally reading my mind.
“That would be nice thank you,” I answered, and George let out a laugh opening the door, Katherine gave him an inquisitive look, one brow raised.
“I thought we were past asking each other stuff like that Y/n practically lives here,” Katherine and I looked at each other and burst into a giggle, he wasn’t wrong.
“Alright well we better be off, Alex is in the living room with Issac playing some kind of video game,” Katherine announced grabbing her coat and leaning over to kiss the top of my head.
I muttered back a thanks and headed deeper in the Walter house and to no surprise I found my best friend exactly where Katherine said.
“Y/n hey!” Alex examined practically jumping out of his seat
“Dude! Dude the game- we’ve nearly-” Issac stood with the remote but quickly slumped back down into his seat as the television made a noise to signify the end of the game, “What the hell Alex, that was the closest we’ve ever gotten!” he continued to complain.
“Y/n’s here,” Alex simply pointed out, that Goofy smile on his face, all his teeth showing in his grin.
“Yeah, yeah Y/n’s here,” Issac mocked rolling his eyes at his cousin but giving me a smile and a fist bump as he walked past.
Soon enough Alex and I found ourselves laying around on the sofa with snacks and a random film on. I suggested we head outside, I wanted to work on my tan but he said him and Cole argued again and he was out there with some of the other Walter siblings. I tried not to roll my eyes, I know these boys love and care for each other so why make it so difficult.
“Your parents out of town again?” he sat up to look at me, I reluctantly tuned my head away from the tv and put down the popcorn bowl on the coffee table.
“Uh yeah, they’ve got another showcase a couple towns over, won’t be longer than three days,” I answered, mom and dad were well known by their refined tastes, before I was born they started being judges in all kinds of food showcases all around the country, it all slowed down after I was born but they were still offered lots of positions and sometimes they just couldn’t say no.
“You’re more than welcome to crash here,” Alex said, some of his smile seemed to crumble a little. It’s not that my parents weren’t good parents we just weren’t as close as the Walters and that was that. Plus, I have school, even if I wanted to travel with them when they did it wasn’t always possible.
“Hey, I need to look after Daisy,” I said with a smile, my golden retriever could not sleep unless she’s  in one of our beds, “Plus everyone else is still there,” I said confidently kicking his leg to brighten his mood. Mom and dad offer a program where you can come live on the ranch and help with the work for a small wage and all accommodation provided, people who want to travel jump at the opportunity all the time, we have a waitlist, it’s nice being able to meet people from all around the world.
“You know I’m always here for you right?” He asked all serious, hand reaching out to touch mine, I gave him a smile and his hand a squeeze and pulled him into a hug. It felt different somehow these last couple of weeks. I’ve liked Alex, like liked Alex for as long as I could remember and recently it started feeling like maybe he liked me too.
“I know, I’m here for you too,” I whisper back.
“We’re back!” George’s voice announced to the house, Alex stayed sitting on the sofa, but I walked up to the doorway.
“Jackie this is Y/n, Y/n Jackie,” Katherine said with a bright smile. I gave the girl a smile, she looked exactly as I expected she would, beautifully luscious hair and clothes with a scarily perfect posture.
“Hi,” I said reaching out my hand,” I live next door but half the time I swear I spend more time here,” I laugh, and a smile appears on her face, and she shakes my hand.
“Oh, and this is Alex,” Katherine says as we walk past the living room, my eyes go to him like muscle memory, but his don’t even glance my way, he’s looking at her. I feel something then near my heart, a new kind of pain, but I put on a brave smile.
“Theres still two bags in the car would you mind getting them?” George asked Alex who shook himself slightly out of his trance. He stood quickly and headed towards the front door.
Unsure what to do with myself, this was a new feeling, I followed Katherine and Jackie to the kitchen, she poured us some lemonade when her phone started to ring, and she excused herself. From what I gathered she was being called for a job, Katherine was incredibly hard working and did not get half the recognition she deserved.
She apologised and said she was needed for an animal emergency. The job of showing Jackie around was passed onto me and Will who had just walked through the door and introduced himself.
We headed outside and finally I was blessed with the rays of sunshine dancing on my skin, the weather was truly magnificent. Will continued pointing everyone out to Jackie and I looked at each of the Walters outside in turn, I really was lucky to be surrounded by these people, and Jackie would soon know that she ended up with the most loving people in the world.
“Who’s that?” she whispered to me when a certain blonde, very dramatically, flipped back his hair and climbed out of the pool. I shook my head turning to see her practically gaping at him and let out a giggle.
“That’s Cole, the big flirt of the town,” I explained, her eyes never left him.
“Do you want to introduce yourself?” Will asked, he was too busy answering Parker’s question to hear Jackie and I.
Cole sat back on one of the lounge chairs brushing his hair back with one hand, the other already resting under his head. He opened his eyes ever so slightly to look in our direction, “She’ll figure it out,” he said in that teasing Cole voice.
“Told ya,” I continued, and Jackie laughed, I looped my arm through hers, ‘I’ll show you to your room then,”
“And Cole and I will start brining up your belongings right?” Will commanded more than questioned, Cole let out a groan but got up.
After a few minutes Alex had bought up Jackie’s other two bags and started helping Cole bring up her boxes of stuff which there seemed to be a lot of. I sat there with Jackie helping her unpack her suitcases and giving her some insight into town and the school. I had to watch both the Walter brothers try to make her laugh and shine their beautiful eyes at her each time they interchangeably came up.
“So, are you related to the Walters or?” She asked when Alex left after dropping off another box, I couldn’t help but let out an audible laugh.
“Oh no, no, I’ve grown up next door so basically know them since we were all in diapers, but no not related” I explained and she nodded, placing some stationary precisely on her desk, “So if you ever needany blackmail let me know,” I whispered and we laughed together. Katherine was right, I hope I was making this easier for her.
Katherine arrived back in time for dinner, George prepared a barbeque, Alex and I set up some tables outside and bought paper plates. It almost seemed like any other dinner apart from the fact that Alex spent almost all of it staring or talking to Jackie. He wasn’t the only one though. Cole. This was my new reality I realised and start bracing myself mentally.
Even with the family’s insistence I left right after dinner with the excuse that I had some last minute homework I needed to finish for tomorrow’s English class. It had been a long day, and I just needed some space to process and breathe.
I was almost to the gate when Alex ran up to me, “Hey you alright?” he asked walking alongside me, I nodded and told him that I still needed to finish reading that one short story, which was true, and before he could tell me to just read his copy hear I asked him a question.
“What do you think of Jackie?”
“She’s, uh, she seems really nice,” he almost seemed a little flushed, “I’m excited to get to know here, I think she’ll like it here,” he said, “What about you? You guys seemed to get cozy gossiping away”
“She seems lovely, this obviously isn’t easy for her, it’ll be nice to have a girl my age around the ranch,” I said honestly, things were going to be different now, so I just had to learn to roll with it and make the best of it, even though I see exactly how this is going to play out, I need to gossip with Danny about it, see if he agrees.
***
It’s been just over two weeks since Jackie has arrived at the ranch, and so far things have been pretty normal, if not better. We hung out every day, I showed her around school, we avoided Erin together and I introduced her to Tara and Skylar, but her and I got close quickly.
I had to finish my group project with my science class mates and it was the worst experience of my life, they were all absolutely useless, as much as we aren’t really fond of each other I’d hope they’d be able to put those feelings aside just to finish this project but no, they like to make things difficult. Now I wanted nothing more than to flop on Alex’s bed with some ice-cream and complain about it for half hour whilst he tried and is mostly successful in making me laugh.
My plan was not going to go quite as I wanted though, I walk through the farm’s beautiful, wooden gates only to hear Alex and Jackie talking. At first I reminded myself to not think anything of it, they too were starting to become good friends, which was good- so why did it hurt hearing her laugh that enchanting, contagious laugh from inside the barn that contained the loft. Kid’s heaven as we liked to call it. Alex and I called it our getaway when we needed to talk about something serious, it was also a non-judgement zone.
I approached the barn cautiously in hopes of not being spotted, this wasn’t spying it was- information gathering to make the best possible choices going forward. Who am I kidding this was stupid, I needed to walk away or make myself obvious. Running a hand through my hair I turned to walk towards the house, maybe Katherine was around.
“Spying are we y/n/n?” Cole asked, causing me to jump slightly, one of my hands landing on my chest.
“Jesus Cole I’d like to live to my thirties- at least,” I let out wacking him on the arm, he let out a laugh, one too similar yet so different from Alex’s, yet his knowing glance didn’t change, “No I was not spying I just didn’t want to interrupt,” I said defensively brushing past him.
“Whatever you say…” he started, managing to get perfectly in step with me, “Suppose I don’t need to tell you then,” he continued to tease. I kept my sight ahead of me, lips pursing together, running my tongue over my front teeth, I would not give him the satisfaction.
Cole found out about my little thing for Alex from Erin, her and I used to be best friends before she became ‘popular’ she used the information to get Cole’s attention in the first place, but this didn’t mean I needed to give Cole the power now.
We kept walking towards the house in silence, it was eating away at me and my lack of patience. I let out a huff as we got onto the porch, “What were you going to tell me?” I asked reluctantly.
“Oh how I could bully you right now,” he clasped his hands together mischievously and I turned away from him to go into the house, “Okay, okay,” he said grabbing hold of my arm and pulling me back towards him, we both leaned over the railing.
“He likes her doesn’t he?” I asked even though I already knew the answer, I could see Cole nodding his head in the corner of my eye. Damn how quickly Alex Walter fell.
I turned to face him; he kept looking out at the fields.
“You like her too,” I said in a whisper, it was a realisation I hadn’t meant to voice out loud. He sucked in a deep breath.
“I mean I don’t really know her, she just moved her but-”
“You feel like you’ve known each other forever? There’s just something fascinating about her that you can’t let that little flame of hope give out?” I asked, completely monotone, I related too much to what I was saying.
“Wow we’re saddos,” he laughed nudging me to the side.
“Yeah we really are,” I said, leaning against the railing again.
“But you don’t want to hurt him do you? We don’t need a repeat of the Paige situation,” he tensed up at my words, even though Alex is my best friend all of the Walter kids are my friends and they’re all family. I know Cole didn’t know about Paige and everything was blown out of proportion. But the fact that it was all a miscommunication but we were still suffering the consequences now and we did not need another destructive wave.
“Come on lets crash their little moment,” he said changing the subject, refusing to talk about it, the normal playfulness of his voice gone. I sighed and nodded, we headed towards the barn in perfect time to see Alex brushing Jackie’s hair out her face.
“Uh-um” Cole’s voice beamed into the mostly empty building, both of them turned to us and stepped apart.
“Oh y/n I have to show you this new board game Jackie and I bought in an antique shop the other day,” he came towards me, turning around to smile at Jackie once more, “Don’t forget the book, it’ll be nice to talk to someone who actually likes the Hobbit,” he said playfully turning to me, “Unlike some who don’t appreciate the art,” he continued.
That comment should not have hurt as much as it did, it was a light-hearted joke but it felt like it was leaving a gap in my heart causing my heart rate to increase.
“I’ll see you in a bit Jackie,” I said with as much of a smile as I could muster, she nodded back, clearly not wanting to be left alone with Cole after the whole bleach situation, and the good friend part of my didn’t want to leave her stranded, but Cole is a good guy- for the most part- and he deserves a chance to apologise for his sometimes stupid behaviour.
Alex started to describe the game excitedly as we headed towards the house, we were walking up the stairs when a voice called from behind us.
“Hey, Alex, Y/n hold up! I’ll come play with you!” Jackie shouted jogging to come meet us, and that’s how I ended up playing a board game with the two of them subtly flirting for two hours before finally having a chance to excuse myself.
***
Mom and dad have never gone away over a holiday before, but this thanksgiving I was left all alone in our house. Or more accurately I was being left with the Walters. This was a different kind of travel though. My grandmother from my dad’s side was getting continuously worse but they didn’t want to interrupt my holidays and wanted to keep me in a routine, so they asked me to stay and took Daisy with them.
I had slept at the Walter house last night, Jackie and I fell asleep on the sofa watching Lemonade Mouth, I knew Jackie was dreading today and did not want to cook so I promised I’d cover for her and cook a plate in her honour instead while she went on her food delivery rounds. Little did she know her uncle Richard was coming to the dinner.
I wasn’t supposed to know either but I had accidently walked in when Katherine was on the phone to him and she did a little excited dance move when I assumed he agreed. I think this will be good for her, seeing a familiar face. Getting her to come back to the house for dinner without revealing the surprise was going to be harder.
I thanked Katherine for grabbing the supplies for some bacon-topped green bean casserole, mom’s favourite recipe and stepped into my chef era in the kitchen. My side dish can be eaten cold or heated up so I decided to cook before everyone else piled into the kitchen.
Singing along to one of my playlists I moved around the kitchen like it was my dance floor, I’m not a fantastic cook, but I’m not the worst so I just tried to make it fun whilst stimulating my short attention span.
I heard footsteps and a voice, not a great one, joining in. I smiled and looked up from the cutting board to see Alex dancing awkwardly around the kitchen island.
“Oh I love this song,” he enthused coming towards me, I tried to move away and resist, but he took the knife out of my hand cautiously and pulled me closer, both his hands in mine and we rushed around the kitchen singing our favourite song. I should have known the second this tune came on it would act as a whistle to the Walter boy.
He twirled me around five or six times causing me to get a little dizzy, we giggled like five year olds without a care in the world. Unfortunately, as the song came to end so did our moment. We stood there for a couple moments trying to catch our breaths. I couldn’t help but gleam.
One look at Alex’s red, out of breath face and I burst into laughter again.
“Stop it! Come on stop  it I need to breath,” he managed to get out between attempted breaths and laughter.
“Well, I didn’t know you were such a confident dancer Walter,” I said winking at him. He smacked my arm walking around to put some bacon in his mouth, “Leave it alone or we’ll have none for later,” I chided playfully.
“More of a confident dancer than a confident cook,” he said and I couldn’t agree with him more, “Thankfully mom has let me get away with just making the mash this year,” and we all thanked her for it.
“Do you remember that time you were trying to cook some chicken and somehow managed to get it spilt half over the floor and the rest drowning under the undercooked cheese sauce and almost gave both of us food poisoning?” I asked chucking a green bean into my mouth. He covered his eyes with his hands and sighed at the memory.
“How many times can I apologise for that? Also come on I was like twelve, how much can a twelve year old boy know about cooking?!” He asked running a hand down his face.
“Well, I’d assume more than that, your mom and dad are incredible cooks,” I said, then got interrupted when the phone on the counter started playing a happy tune, it wasn’t mine.
Alex picked up his phone to look at the caller before turning back to me, “Give me a sec just gotta answer this,” he said before sitting down and speaking into the phone. I run my hand over my nose and returned back to my station and cutting up the bacon into smaller slices, every now and then looking up to Alex, watching the smile that takes over his whole face, trying to guess who was on the other side of the phone even though deep down I think I already knew.
“Yes Jackie I’ll make sure to remind you about that later, okay bye,” he said followed by a laughter. My suspicions were confirmed and all of a sudden there was nothing more interesting in the room other than my cutting board, I was nearly done then I could get out of here for a couple of hours. If Jackie could so could I, especially considering I didn’t actually live here.
“I’m going to talk to her today, I’m going to tell her how I feel,” Alex announced bravely.
My hands stopped in motion, and I looked up at him, not quite sure I heard him right, “ You’re going to do what? Do you really think that’s the right thing to do? I mean especially now at thanksgiving when she’s missing her family and-” I started but cut myself off before I could ruin Jackie’s surprise for anyone else.
“Things have been going really well y/n, I thought you’d be happier for me if I’m honest,” a bit of his smile faded and I looked back down at my cutting board, throwing the rest of the bacon into my casserole.
“I just meant you guys live together, let’s say things go south, what happens then?”
“Why do you always have to be so negative about this, every time I talk to you about Jackie you get like this,” he was hurt, I could tell by the slightly change in his tone.
“I’m being realistic, you’ve got to think about the rest of the family as well,” I defended myself turning around to wash up everything I used I wanted to add you’ve got to think about me, how after all this time, when we too acted like that can you didn’t see me too.
He huffed and then just as his steps came closer they got further way, and with each beat my heart sunk further and further.
I spent the dinner watching him watch her, watching Cole watch her, and the whole debacle with her uncle go down and Erin sat two seats down from me- what was happening? How quickly do things go so out of control. He wouldn’t even spare me a glance, all of a sudden I felt invisible at the Walter table, which now I suppose that could happen effortlessly with purely the number of us.
We all sat in the living room later that evening, after Jackie decided she was going to stay, playing card games and laughing along to some general knowledge game show where people were barely ever right because the questions were so bizarre. Jackie left after a little while claiming she just needed some time to process this whole day.
What hurt was the way Alex followed her up a few minutes later like a lost puppy. I knew where he was going, what he was going to do and say, it was making me feel physically sick. Like someone was squashing both my stomach and my heart at the same time. I went to get some water. I took a few deep breaths while standing at the sink, but I still felt like I couldn’t breathe so I went out towards the barn. I sat on the fence and looked out onto the ranch, not allowing myself to look back at the house.
That wasn’t the worst of it though. I thought it couldn’t get worse, more painful, but never say never. Jackie called me up to her room later, I’m staying the night at the Walter’s for two more nights until my parents got back. Hearing her explain what happened in detail was much, much worse than sitting on the fence outside and imagining how it played out.
She sounded so excited talking about how they kissed and how he gave her this whole cute proclamation, she didn’t realise that every word, every description she gave me pushed a knife a little deeper into my heart. He took her to our spot where when the sun starts going down it shimmers perfectly between two tall trees. I nodded along and tried my best to feign excitement, but I couldn’t tell how good of a job I was doing, she was too caught up in her giddiness to notice if I was doing a shit job.
I knew it could be worse though I told myself, this whole explanation could be coming out of Alex’s mouth, and if it did I think I would actually, physically be sick. I couldn’t see him right now or talk to him. I needed to not be at the Walter house for a couple of days so I could avoid the incoming PDA.
I told Katherine one of the volunteers ended up coming back early after the holiday and that I offered to go spend the evening with them, so they weren’t alone, she wasn’t too thrilled about the idea but she let me go, I think she sensed my urgency but didn’t want to press. I think she probably knew more about what was at play here than we realised.
***
Over the next couple of weeks, the sight of Jackie and Alex became imprinted in my mind. I didn’t avoid either of them, but I didn’t go out my way to spend time with them either, mostly because they were always together and always touching, but it’s not like they showed much of an effort to reach out to me either. I knew of course that they were in the honeymoon stage, but I also knew the best way to stop breaking my heart was to limit contact.
When I realised that this thing was going to be a thing for a while I started reaching out to my other peers more, hanging out with new people in the time I used to spend with the Walter’s and Jackie. Turns out one guy from my science group was actually quite nice, and he wasn’t bad looking. No matter what he was not Alex but I could see myself being happy with Seb. We talked, called, and hung out more and more until we officially started dating, he agreed to attend the oldest Walter brother’s wedding with me which was kind of him since he didn’t really know any of them very well. I think that was why I was drawn to him; he was outside this bubble and I desperately wanted to get out too.
 “Aren’t you excited? You love the Walters,” Seb asked as we walked through the big wooden gate. My arm was looped through his. I took a deep breath and smiled, it was genuine, I was excited that Will and Hayley were finally doing what was going to make them happy and that we all got to be here to celebrate with them, in the place that we all love. Mom and dad already joined the Walter’s earlier to help set up.
We were met with the twins by the entrance to the field, and for today the wedding venue, many guests were already sitting down, Nathan sat on the other side of the gate tuning his guitar, I’m so glad they let him do this, it’ll be a memory he’ll hold for the rest of his life.
“You look beautiful,” Danny said as we got into conversation, Seb was seemingly finding many common subjects for them to talk about but my mind was distracted as I tried to stop myself from looking around and looking for him. Blue was my colour he’s said it himself many times before, maybe he’ll give me a compliment too, like he used to.
“Looking good Jackie,” Danny said as she came our way, mom said she basically planned this whole event by herself.
“You look great Jackie,” I added with a smile, she also wore a beautiful baby blue dress with a shoulder cover, her style choices never missed and whoever came up with the colour scheme should be given a bonus.
“You too Y/n, feels like I barely see you now a days, but we’re seated together so we’ll have the chance to catch up,” she smiled and reached out to hold me hand, “come on lets sit down we’re going to start in a minute”.  I called Seb and we went to sit down.
“Hi y/n you look lovely, Seb,” Alex came up to us to sit next to Jackie, we’ve talked here and there, and god did I miss him and his goofy smile. He put his arm around Jackie and we all talked a little, Seb’s hand landed on my knee and whilst usually it was quite nice right now it felt suffocating, like I was in a prison of my own making.
The actual wedding ceremony was beautiful, they both looked great and you could just tell by the glimmer in their eyes that they’re so in love. Everything was going smoothly until Cole’s speech, he didn’t do anything wrong, he was honest and spoke from the heart, whether I could believe entirely that it was just about Hayley and Will I wasn’t sure but who else but us kids would be able to tell.
It was during the speech that Alex started getting fidgety, I wanted to reach out and hold his hand, run my thumb over his skin soothing him  but I couldn’t, Jackie wasn’t helping much either, staring at Cole as if he’s some kind of god, eyes almost watering as he spoke.
Seb put his arm around me and I learned into him, my head on his shoulder eyes closed. When I opened them back up after Cole finished Alex was looking directly at me. I gave him a smile, but he looked away quickly.
 I regretted complimenting the flowers as soon as Nathan explained their meaning and Jackie’s and Cole’s eyes found each other like magnets again, but when I looked to Alex his eyes were once again on me, he put his arm around Jackie and whispered something in her ear, she nodded but her eyes were cautious, unsure.
The dancing began soon after, Seb quickly asked if I wanted to dance sensing the awkward atmosphere at the table, he wasn’t so good with dealing with awkward bless him. Jackie and Alex didn’t take long to join us, they danced closer together whispering in each other’s ears, his hand ran up and down her arm.
I couldn’t watch any longer, “I’m sorry, I need to just take a second,” I hurried out of Seb’s, who now looked very confused, arms and towards the house. I could hear him faintly asking if he wanted me to come but I couldn’t answer, I grabbed onto my chest trying to get myself to breathe normally. I hope my exit wasn’t as dramatic on the larger scale as it felt.
The downstairs bathroom was girl heaven in this house, the one place where all you could smell was some kind of flowers, every surface was constantly clean and it was a clear zone from the Walter boys.
“Y/n/n,” a voice asked followed by a series of knocks, I would know that secret pattern anyway, I wiped my nose again, I wanted to tell him to go away, I didn’t need him seeing me like this, pitying me. “Come on Y/n can we talk?”, after a few seconds he still stood there, waiting, “I know I’m idiot, please,” this time I could clearly hear the desperation in his voice.
I opened the door and leaned to sit back down on the side of the bath. I didn’t want to meet his eyes. He reached out for my arms and lifted me up, my gaze still on the floor. I wasn’t expecting him to pull me into the biggest embrace of my life. I frozen for a second unable to move, but I melted into the hug, my hands sound their way around his neck and he pulled me closer.
“I’m so sorry Y/n I’ve been an idiot, who didn’t know what good he had until he lost it,” he pulled away just enough to see my face, “and now I’ve made you cry, wow I really am the worst,” I chuckled at this.
“I ended things with Jackie, I think we were both pretending that we worked because we were both scared,” he said with contemplation.
“Scared of what?” I asked but it came out as a whisper.
He looked between both of my eyes, his hands unravelled from around me to secure a place on my face. We were so close I could feel his breath on me.
“To do this,” he whispered back and closed the gap between us, his lips met mine, my hands went to his waist and he pulled me closer and closer. When he pulled away it seemed like I was in some starstruck haze, we’d kissed before at some party playing spin the bottle but that was nothing compared to this.
“Will you forgive me? Can we start this over?” He asked hopefully. I wanted to immediately jump into his arms and kiss him again but then there was Jackie and Seb.
“What about Jackie?” I asked weakly.
“I think we both know her and Cole have had this connection from the beginning it, but I was her safe option, just like she was mine and Seb is yours, my god I couldn’t watch any time his hands came anywhere near you, knowing that should have been me, it could have been me all along,” he said and this time I went on my tip toes, arms around his neck and kissed him like I’ve never been kissed before. Now I would just have to figure out a way to tell Seb.
“Don’t think you’re completely off the hook for ditching me for a girl,” I said walking out of the bathroom with a glance over my shoulder.
“Oh no I know I’ve got to work for it, but where are you going I want to kiss you, I need to kiss you come back!” he called trailing behind me.
“I need to talk to Seb,” I said solemnly, though I’ve got to admit a wedding is the worst place for all of this to work out. Seb was very understanding, I think he could tell what was coming from miles away but wanted to give me the benefit of the doubt. We hugged one last time and he went over to talk to Danny and some of the others.
Jackie started walking towards the barn, Cole must have ran away too, I chuckled to myself, she turned around for a second meeting my eye. She gave me a bright smile and put up both her thumbs up at me, I put a thumbs up back, and that was how I knew we were okay.
“So you want to dance?” Alex asked pulling my attention back to him. I agreed but only if it was proper dancing not whatever weird arm tugging thing he was doing with Jackie.
And so we danced the night away, all of us kids being the last ones left out in the night. We sat around and talked, played board games in one of the tents till morning, it was finally like everything was in place.
I leaned my head on Alex’s shoulders as everyone started heading to bed. Now everything was in place.
MASTERLIST
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strawberryforks · 4 months
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the cole walter effect // cole walter x reader
summary: you fall victim to the cole walter effect, then he, falls for you.
warnings: swearing
word count: 1850
a/n: requests/asks open and encouraged! <3
one look and you were a goner. two, and you were a blushing mess, sitting beside erin, your best friend. desks pushed up against each other, wondering what business letters had in maths class and what business cole walter had being so… so him, you toyed with the mechanical pencil in your hand, pushing the led in and out.
even acting like a jackass, cole had a sweet smile and was the king of gestures—grand or otherwise. hanging around him could light up you day (or darken it substantially depending on his mood) but mostly, cole walter made you feel special for however long you managed to keep his attention.
since he’d hurt his leg and lost his spot on the football team he’d been treating everyone awfully. you, erin, the dozens of other girls he led on, his parents, siblings, himself. it wasn’t like cole but it didn’t seem like there was much anyone could do…
you made a point to cherish the good moments even more.
when someone bumped into you in the hallways he scooped up your books and handed them to you. “sorry about that, y/n, some people don’t pay enough attention to their surroundings,” he watched the perpetrator retreat, glaring at their back all while helping you up.
when you two skipped school together and he brought you to his favourite spot. the sun beat down on the lake and reflected on your faces. “happiness looks good on you, sunshine,” he’d been trying out stupid nicknames all day and none of them stuck, not until then, you scrunched your nose and shook your head, laughing at him and he smiled back. you’d listen to that stupid nickname every day for the rest of your life if that was your reward.
and that time you got stuck walking in the rain. it was storming and you were supposed to be on your way to his house—to hangout with danny, but still. when you were late he cared enough to call your mom and when she said you’d left on foot fifteen minutes ago he was out the door in no time at all. he pulled up alongside you and let you climb into his truck even soaking wet. “sunshine, you’re shaking,” you were, you were drenched and chilled to the bone. “here.” he shrugged off his jacket, gave it to you, and cranked the heat. your teeth chattered while you thanked him and he brushed it off, said: “no worries; it’s nothing.” what he didn’t know is that it was everything.
you felt bad for cole walters and his devilish grin but you felt other things too. in that ooey gooey crush phase where a wink could turn you bright red and you treasured each and every conversation—dissected each word and then talked about it with your best friend.
“he’s pretty, i’ll give him that.” she said, giving you the sense that wasn’t all. “but?” you encouraged.
“but he’s kind of an ass and he stopped treating me right a long time ago. casual hookups are all he can offer, y/n.”
you’d be fine with that and you love erin but you don’t really believe her. no, it’s not that you don’t believe in her it’s just… you believe in cole. believe he can do better, be better, and be more.
still, her tone worries you. you know something’s up so you push a bit. you’ve known her since you were in diapers and cole was her off-and-on-again boyfriend for quite awhile. you have a crush on him but who doesn’t? falling prey to what dozens of your peers have dubbed the cole effect is almost easier than breathing in this tiny town. “are you sure you’re okay with—“ you gesture between you and then point out the window to where the eldest walter boy stands talking to his twin, danny. there’s no other way to explain it, really. there is no you and cole, you’re just hoping that one day there could be. erin looks out the window, “to clarify you’re talking about cole, right?”
you nod quick and when she seems relieved your mouth tumbles open. you gasp and erin’s hand flies to the back of her neck, cheeks turning red, “yeah,” she admits. “i’m suddenly only okay with you going after one of the walter boys.”
“you like danny!” you whisper-shout. “that’s fantastic, that’s just so great! i’ve known him for ages i can totally set you up. would it be okay if i gave him your number?” erin nods, grateful, and you can’t wipe the grin off of your face all day.
you see danny and rush over to him. you pluck his phone out of his hand and he messes up your hair with his hand, “i’m just putting erin’s number in!” you defend, “she’s interested in acting” and you, you omit, “and since you’re the best actor i know, i figured you could help her out!”
danny smiles and stuffs his hands into his pockets and shakes his head. he’s your other best friend, the one you tell all of your walter free drama. to spare his sanity, not once have you mentioned your massive crush or burdened him with your boy-problems. boy-problem, you corrected, seeing as there was only one. “you coming over after school?”
“only if you’ve got room!”
“we do. always. and see if your friend erin wants to come with.”
your excitement is palpable as you nod quickly. Then, you skip off to find erin, plans already forming in your mind.
You’re the first one to the car–you call shotgun and slide into the passenger seat, looking at cole. earlier, you’d slipped issac, lee, and nathan $10 bills to manoeuvre themselves so erin and danny would have to sit next to each other. To add insult to injury, or the cherry to your sundae of a master plan, you slip issac an extra $5. he sits with his legs spread and rests his elbows on his thighs hunched over. he sits his backpack beside him and when erin figured out where she had to sit–having only half a seat’s worth of space, you swear, she had a mini-aneurysm or something. you almost felt bad. erin glared but you played dumb you did feel bad. a little. until cole hit a bump and looking in the mirror you saw them holding hands. a victory, a smile, now it was your turn.
being cole walter’s friend was surprisingly easy. turns out, he just needed someone to really hear him. To really listen. Sure, to get to that point you had to push a little (but two shouting matches later and) “it’s just–there was all this pressure on me to make a comeback. I love footbal, i do, but it doesn’t change the fact that my foot is fucked. mom and dad spent all this money on my rehab and it’s still useless.” you hugged him tight, “but you’re not. Not useless.” he sighed, holding onto you, like the lifeline you allowed yourself to be. he didn’t believe you when you told him he was worthy, that he was good at things other than football, but maybe one day.
winning over cole took more attention to detail and care. care was the big thing–thoughtfulness, kindness, creativeness. cole walter does things for people and he doesn’t have to be asked or begged. you’re certain his love language is acts of service and yours is a combination of several. you like physical touch as much as the next person, gift giving, and quality time. when you combine all three? it’s his turn to blush.
you find field and pick a handful of flowers–all as close to his favourite colour you could find. you arrange them in a tinted and curved glass vase you found at the thrift and you write him a letter. when you deliver your gift, passing it over, your hands touch. “who’s this for?” he asks, confusion present on his face. He’s thinking maybe it’s for his mom, maybe parker?, when you tap your index finger against the envelope and he reads his own name. he’s caught off guard. he takes the gift, thanks you somewhat awkwardly and then walks off. (you think you failed until he returned the sentiment the next day and you found flowers in your locker)
the next thing that you do isn’t even intentional. you don’t do it to make cole like you more, it just happens that way. “Hey!” you shout, walking up to the new quarterback. “taking his number and flaunting it around like that–well that’s a real shit thing to do.” lake houses with colourful chairs aren’t made for confrontations like these. nor are you usually, not in front of your peers at least. but after a cup full of liquid confidence, well, you’re in the middle of a truth or dare game and things are about to get messy. you’re to his left and if he leans in the only kiss he’ll receive is from your knuckles. “i dare you,” he rolls his eyes, “i pick truth.” you scoff and when some of his friends laugh too, one crowing “what are you, scared?” he doesn’t budge. “truth, then. do you think you’re better than cole?” he gulps, “even with an injured leg he’s a better person and player than you could ever dream of being.” cole watches from the sidelines, ready to intervene if necessary but also… he’s thinking. thinking hard and wondering where the hell you came from.
he taught you how to ride horses, you taught him how to paint–painted him, actually, which his mom just thought was the best thing in the entire world. “she’s so sweet, george.” katherine told her husband, “she’s so good to him. just what he needed.”
you take the liberty of walking him to a few of his classes and he pays you back by driving you places–your home, his, issac jokingly called you cole’s passenger princess and the second eldest walter boy didn’t correct him. being cole’s anything gave you butterflies.
but still. the one step you wouldn’t take was the one that took him the longest–it was the label that stopped him, that scared him. the exclusivity (he hadn’t so much as flirted with anyone else since you two started hanging out more) and the fear of error, of messing up. a month later was when he finally asked you to be his girlfriend. the two of you went on a picnic (he cooked all of the food but didn’t tell you in case there was something there that you didn’t like) and brought you flowers and a letter. “who’s this for?” you asked, grinning. it was a full circle–one with a curved line and two dots inside of it. you were beaming and when you finished reading the letter you threw yourself into his arms. your hands found both sides of his face and you pressed your lips against his.
the cole walter effect got you, but you weren’t mad about it.
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thealtoduck · 1 year
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Jason with a ”dumb slut™” boyfriend…
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Jason Todd x Male Reader
Damian Wayne x Male Reader (platonic)
Warnings: Superhero violence, mentioned sex, reader is a weirdo mess but in a kinda ”iconic” way, kidnapping.
Summary: You become an ally to the Batfamily in one of the most unexpected ways…
(A/n: This isn’t based in the Titans universe, it’s average dc universe, i just think Curran Walters is hot.)
(A/n 2: Reader is semi-based on the character Faye from Euphoria (i haven’t watched the show but i’ve seen some of her scenes.)
——
You met Jason at a bar where he was looking to release some stress and anger and you were looking for a hot hook up, both of you got just what you wanted, which led to some of the best sex in both of your lives.
The next day you woke up in Jason’s bed to find he wasn’t there. You pulled on your boxers and your hoodie and left his bedroom only to walk in on Jason talking to Batman and Robin.
To their suprise you didn’t seem faced at all by the scene you only walked over to Jason and said ”Jason, you’ve got any aspirin or something”. ”Yeah, in the cabinet in the bathroom” Jason said casually. You uttered a quick ”Thanks” before walking past Robin (who glared at you) towards the bathroom.
After you entered the Bathroom you heard Batman ask ”So… who was that?”. To which Jason asked him ”Do you really want me to answer that in front of my eleven year old brother?”. To which Robin asked ”Is he a prostitute?”.
When you came back out you answered both questions ”Okay so… Hi my name is Y/n L/n and no, i’m not a prostitute, Jason, do you want me to go make breakfast for you, your brother and Batman, while you discuss whatever the fuck your talking about?”.
”Sure” he said awkwardly. You made breakfast for the four of you. As you sat down with Jason and the two vigilantes around the table, they were discussing some case as if you weren’t there. You didn’t really care either honestly.
Robin then spoke to you suspiciously ”Aren’t you even gonna slightly question Jason’s relations to me or Batman?”. ”No, everyone has like that one relative you know” you started. ”Like my ex, his brother was a drug dealer” you continued casually as the others stared at you.
”I can give you his adress so you can arrest him” you suggested taking a sip of your tea. ”Why do you want us to arrest his brother?” Robin asked. ”Cause the asshole dumped me and took my headphones” you said plainly making Jason chuckle.
After breakfast you got fully dressed and Jason walked you to the door. ”So i know this became kind of a weird hook up but do you like wanna meet again sometime” Jason asked. ”Sure, just write your number here and we’ll schedule something” you said with a smile handing him your phone. Then you left his apartment.
As Jason walked back into the apartment Damian stared distastefully at him and asked ”What place could you have possibly gone to too find that guy?”.
After a few dates you and Jason became an official couple. He revealed he was the Red Hood after you noticed the cuts and bruises he had on one of your dates. He was suprised to see how chill you were to the whole thing.
But you had grown up in the slums of Gotham so that wasn’t the weirdest thing you’ve ever experienced. So you just cleaned his wounds and went on with your business.
You got meet a few more of Batman’s team members when Nightwing, Red Robin and Spoiler came by. You were 97,69% sure Robin had been gossping and telling the Batfam that you were a ”dumb crack whore” or something cause they seemed a bit judgy at first when meeting you.
Though they soon realised you were a very kind person but an odd one. You even came in useful with your knowledge of the slums of Gotham, knowing it’s gangs, dealers and all that.
They eventually invited you in for dinner to meet them out of costume. You were for the first time kind of shocked when Jason drove the two of you to Wayne Manor of all places. When the butler opened the door the only words you could find was ”Cool house”.
The dinner was nice and let you and Jason’s family get to know each other better. Stephanie was your favorite, she seemed to think you were really cool and loved your wild stories.
Damian was still an uptight little ass who seemed to think you were disease ridden streetwalker. Though his opinion of you would soon change…
One time Bruce asked you to pick Damian up from school when Alfred was busy. Though it wasn’t a smooth ride. Damian was whispering how it was beneath him to be around you when a car suddenly rammed yours making it crash.
Luckily you and Damian were fine but you passed out and the men who’s car rammed you kidnapped the two of you. When you woke up you and Damian were tied back to back in chairs. The kidnappers filmed a message to Bruce for ransom money and then left to do business.
”Damian, how are you doing?” you asked. ”I’m tied back to back with you, how do you think?” he said annoyed. This made you snap and say ”Listen here you little cunt, i don’t like you, you don’t like me, but i’m dating your older brother so i at least have to pretend i tolerate you. Now shut up and reach in to my pocket, i have a pocket knife”.
This shut Damian up as he reached in to your pocket and got knife and started cutting the rope.
Once Damian had freed you both from the rope the kidnappers returned and noticed your escape. You swiftly grabbed the pocket knife and shoved Damian behind your back. ”Back off or i’ll stab you in the throat!” you said fiercely as the criminals surrounded you.
”Oh come on cutie, give us the boy and we’ll let you go free” one of the kidnappers tried to offer you. ”No, your not laying a fucking finger on him!” you yelled.
One of guys tried to attack the two of you but you made quick work of him by kicking him in the balls and elbowing him in the throat. ”Anyone else want a go?” you asked the other thugs but as you did both Batman and Red Hood crashed through the windows taking out the criminals.
While they were making quick work of the kidnappers you turned around to Damian. You quicky started checking him over for injuries ”Are you okay? Like not anything from the crash or anything?” you asked him.
Damian was a bit stunned from everything he had just witnessed so he just said ”No… no, i’m fine”. Jason then ran over to you and pulled you into a kiss and then started checking you didn’t have any major wounds.
Before you and Jason left the scene Damian walked over and stopped in front of you and said ”Thank you” with a little bow of his head and then walked away again. ”What did i miss?” Jason questioned confused.
”That’s between me and Damian” you said simply and started walking towards the exit.
After that day if anyone ever made a rude comment about you, Damian would beat the shit out of them.
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aromaticdevil · 4 months
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HELP HER! | Isaac García x Reader
pairing: Isaac García x female reader
summary: In wich Isaac is in love with you, but he knows you're fucking his cousin, Cole. Or in wich you ask Isaac for help hiding in his room because Erin arrived.
word count: 595
author’s note: english is not my first language, hope you like! part 2: one date
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You enjoyed spending time with Cole, but what you two did was nothing more than spending the night together and that's it, he never took the time to meet you because he's Cole Walter, the guy who never falls in love. On the other hand, his cousin, Isaac, ever since he saw you, he thought you were the prettiest girl his eyes had ever seen, and he lives seeing all the girls, but it wasn't just that, your charisma, your jokes, everything, you were amazing, and he tried to get close to you, but then he saw you looking at Cole and he knew he could never beat the Cole effect.
"Shit. Erin's here" Cole's voice made you open your eyes, you weren't asleep, but you were enjoying Cole's bed.
"Here...?" you asked confused, not understanding what he meant.
"Yes, at the house" he saw you worried. "You need to go."
You nodded, putting on your shirt. It had been an amazing night, but you woke up in reality, Cole had something with Erin, and you and him were just fucking.
"Do I use the back door?" Asked.
"No! my dad is there, fixing an old sink" he said.
"So?"
"Ask one of my brothers for help, or whatever you want, just don't let Erin or my parents see you" Cole said putting on his pants.
You nodded. And you left his room trying not to make noise, it was when you heard Erin's voice that you felt your nerves consume you, what if she discovered you? Would she be able to hit you right there? Or worse, would she be able to make up a rumor about you? She was very popular...
"Cole!" Erin shouted, her footsteps getting closer.
And then you saw your salvation, Cole's cousin, Isaac, opened the door to his room, he was wearing a striped shirt, but that didn't matter, it mattered that he was going to help you, or that's what you were going to try to achieve.
“Isaac, hey,” you greeted him, giving him a friendly smile.
Isaac froze when he saw you there in his house. Although he knew instantly what you were doing there, you had spent the night with Cole, he felt a stabbing pain in his chest, and a lump in his throat, but he ignored that feeling.
“Hey” he greeted you back, a smile on his lips.
"I need your help" you said without thinking about the matter.
"What do you need from me?" Isaac frowned, but leaned against the door, intrigued by what you had to say.
"Hide me, Erin is here..." you mumbled, approaching, wanting to enter his room, but he stopped you.
"Uh...why would I do that?" He asked, looking you directly in the eyes.
"Because you're a good person?" you said almost asking, to which he laughed mockingly.
"You almost convinced me" Isaac said, and then closed the door.
You knocked on the door.
"Please, Isaac, I'll do whatever you want."
Those words were enough for Isaac to reopen the door and step aside for you to enter.
"Thank you," you said, breathing a sigh of relief, and sat on his bed.
"There's no need to thank...because you owe me one" he said, looking at you sitting up, and a part of him couldn't help but admire how pretty you looked.
"What do you want?" you asked curiously.
"A date" he blurted out, the universe had taken it upon himself to give him an opportunity to go out with you, and he wasn't going to waste that.
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roosterforme · 4 months
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Adult Education Part 15 | Hangman x OC
Summary: Jessica knows Jake is sorry for losing it on Brian, but now she has once again started to dread going to work. Things had been looking up, and she desperately needed that hopeful feeling back. But a chance run-in with Brian's wife and one well timed email might just be the start of something good.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, mention cheating, 18+
Length: 3500 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC
This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32
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Every day that Jessica woke up and got ready for work felt like she was making herself look presentable for her own execution. She hadn't slept well after Tuesday evening when she went home and cried after Jake punched Brian in the face. He offered to stay with her, but she told him she needed some time to herself. And now she was in a cycle of dreading every minute of work, just like before.
She'd had these soft glimmers of hope over the last few months. She had made a new friend, she had a boyfriend who she was falling in love with, and she absolutely nailed the fraternity fundraiser. Everything was looking so hopeful, but she should have known there was no way she could have it all if Brian was involved. Especially since it looked like he had a broken nose on Thursday morning.
She thought she was going to throw up when he looked at her. Any minute, Dean Walters or someone from his office would be knocking on her door, asking what exactly had possessed her boyfriend to punch the head of the science department.
But it never came. And the anticipation was just making it worse. When she heard someone tapping on her door, her stomach lurched as she sank a little lower in her seat. "Come in," she called out, her voice wavering. When the door eased open, she was surprised to see her friend standing there. "Advanced Calculus," she muttered, leaning back in her seat and taking a deep breath.
"I brought you some coffee," the other woman said as she closed the door behind her. "And I also came to ask you why the hell you didn't tell me that Jake punched Conley in the damn face!"
When Jessica looked at her again, she just shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it."
She set down the coffee cup and said, "You don't have to talk about it, because I already know all about it, because Jake won't shut up about it to Bradley. He thinks he fucked everything up with you. He thinks you're mad at him."
Jessica let her forehead rest on her desk. If she tried to say she wasn't avoiding Jake, she would be lying. "I think I just need to deal with the repercussions on my own. But I'll text him back." She reached for her phone and looked at the most recent message from him. Hey, Smart Girl. I'd love to bring dinner to your office hours, but only if you want me to.
"Wait. What repercussions?" the other woman asked as she took a seat with her own drink. "You don't think this will fall back on you? Do you?"
"How could it not? Have you seen Brian's face?"
She snorted. "I sure fucking did. I came up here more or less to congratulate you for making Jake fall in love with you so hard that he did that for you."
Jessica's heart pounded in response, and she knew her eyes were wide. Jake hadn't said that to her yet, and she hadn't either, but she felt like it was right there. "He just punched him all of a sudden. I didn't ask him to or anything."
"I know. That's the whole point. He couldn't let someone be shitty to you. I just knew Jake had it in him."
Jessica looked down at her phone again and decided to stop avoiding someone who made her so happy. I would love it if you brought me dinner.
His response came almost instantly, letting her know that he would be there. She felt a little better as she looked at her friend. "Thanks for the coffee." But she waved it off and shrugged. "I also wanted to stop by and tell you that everyone is still talking about your fratraiser. They all loved it."
Jessica wanted to love it, too. It has been the perfect night until Brian showed up. "Thanks. I still want to stop in and talk to Dean Walters about it, but I was trying to wait until things with Brian blew over."
"You should definitely talk to Walters," she replied as she stood to leave.
Jessica was tired of hesitating all the time, so she asked, "Do you want to have lunch together today?"
"Can't," she replied with a grimace. "I promised Dr. Rosenthal that I'd look at curriculum with him again."
"Tenure must be so nice," Jessica replied wistfully. "Not that I'll ever know."
Before she slipped out the door, the other woman said, "I'm still holding out hope, and you should, too."
Hours later, Jessica was still considering those words when she took a little break before the start of her office hours. She had been hiding at her desk, looking for a birthday gift for Jake, when she started yawning. With her office hours spread out like a gauntlet in front of her, she decided to quickly grab another coffee from the lounge. She would need it to get through a tutoring session with Luca.
But as soon as she walked through the door, she was met with Brian, and he had his arm wrapped around the same teaching assistant she saw him with before. The one he was most definitely sleeping with. His face looked terrible as the bruising had spread out from his crooked nose, giving him two black eyes. Jessica was sure the glare he was sending her way must be painful for him at the moment, and she had to try her hardest not to laugh. Apparently he was in full scumbag mode now, because he didn't even bother to separate from the TA as Jessica waffled next to the door, undecided if she should stay and make some coffee or not.
"Did you need something, Dr. Reed?" he snapped, his voice extra nasally.
The mere sound of his tone was enough to make her regret coming down here. "No, actually. I'll just leave you to your...business." She turned and left them, hoping she still had a can of Coke in her mini fridge that would suffice. And that was when she almost ran directly into Sabrina Conley.
Jessica recognized her immediately, and she could tell Brian's wife remembered her as well. A chill rippled along her entire body as she felt the woman appraising her with a hateful scowl. "Are you the reason my husband's face is a mess?" she asked, venom lacing every word. Convinced this week couldn't get any worse, Jessica stood frozen, completely unsure what she should say. Was it her fault? Or was it Brian's? Or maybe it was Jake's fault? She just wanted to hide in her office again and cry.
Sabrina took a step closer, her voice somehow more scathing as she said, "Can you at least tell me where he is?"
Jessica nodded, a jerky motion, as she pointed behind her and said, "In the lounge." It was a few seconds before she fully realized what she had done, and by that point it was too late. Sabrina had already disappeared around the corner, and then Jessica heard an angry shriek.
--------------------------
It had been two solid days since Jake saw Jessica, and this was the proof he needed. Seeing her every day had become a necessity. It hurt that she'd distanced herself a little bit after the incident with Brian, even though he could understand that she probably just needed a little space and time. But the irrational side of his brain was running completely wild.
"I fucked up the best relationship I have ever had," he groaned in the locker room on base.
"No, you didn't," Bradley replied with an eye roll. "Or... maybe you did. Maybe Jessica is out on a date with Dev at this very moment."
Jake glared in response. "It's 5:30 on a Thursday. She just finished a lecture, and she's getting ready for her office hours. She's not anywhere with Dev."
Bradley smirked as he got dressed in one of his hideous shirts. "You have her entire schedule memorized. That's so cute."
"You have your wife's entire schedule memorized," Jake retorted.
"That's right. Dr. Tits is finishing up her linear algebra lecture right now which means I can pick her up on my way home. Unless we take a detour to the library," he muttered, and Jake decided to tune him out. He needed to stop home and grab the food he made yesterday in the hope that Jessica would want him to stop by tonight.
He would make this all up to her. If she was somehow in some shit at work because of him, he would have to try to fix it. So he picked up the little individual containers of chicken, mashed potatoes and vegetables along with some ice packs. But his condo was so quiet, he was anxious to leave again. He was hoping Jessica would want to spend the weekend here with him, cooking and reading some journals. Making love and watching a movie. Really anything she wanted to do.
He drove his new truck to campus and parked, knowing he was right in the middle of her office hours and not wanting to intrude if she was working with Luca or someone else. So he went slowly up the walkway past Chippy's and crossed the street to the science building. If he saw Brian, he would stay calm this time. He wouldn't fuck anything up worse for his girlfriend.
When he reached her office, the door was closed, and he heard a soft conversation inside, prompting him to wait his turn. He was hoping it was Luca. He already felt the rage building inside of him over the fact that it could be Brian again. But then the door opened, and a skateboard hit the floor in front of him, and Jake smiled.
As Luca skated away, Jessica launched herself at his chest, and Jake welcomed her, dropping his cooler bag on the floor. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly as she buried her face in his neck and held onto him. "I missed you."
"I don't know," she whispered. "I just know I missed you, too." She started backing up, pulling him into her office, and he reached to pick up the bag of food.
When she guided him to her desk chair, he was delighted that she pushed him down before sitting on his thigh. Jake's hands went to her waist, and she came to rest against his chest with a sigh. Maybe she wasn't so upset with him after all.
He kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry," he whispered again. He'd said it so many times. "I'm sorry I punched him."
"I know you are. It's okay, Jake. Part of me is absolutely delighted that you did that," she told him as she ran her fingers along his name tag. "Because he deserved it." She swallowed hard, and when she spoke again, he could barely hear her. "Brian's wife was here today, and she walked in on him alone with one of the department TAs in the lounge. I'm sure it was as obvious to her as it is to me that he's sleeping with her now."
"Shit," he grunted, stroking her jaw with his fingers before brushing them through her hair. "If he got caught again, then he deserved it."
She nodded. "I don't know why I feel guilty that I was the one who told her he was in the lounge."
Jake's fingers froze. "You feel guilty? Baby, the only one who should feel guilty about anything is Brian.""I know that," she whispered. "I do know that. But Sabrina has been through enough, and I've been feeling bad for her for the past year."
She needed a break, and Jake knew it. "That's understandable, but it's still not your fault. I think you should come spend the weekend at my place and let me take your mind off things."
Jessica tilted her face to look at him. "How are you going to do that?"
He kissed her forehead again as he said, "By cooking for you and kissing you and reading journals with you." Her soft moan had him pressing his luck. "We could pick out some journals right now, and I could have them ready for when you come over tomorrow after work. You worked really hard on your fundraiser, and you deserve a break this weekend."
"Jake," she groaned. "That sounds perfect." The fact that she was curling up on him and yawning now let him know she was exhausted. And if Brian's wife was on campus earlier today, then there was a good chance she was upset that her husband's face was all bruised. He needed to take Jessica's mind off of this shit.
"I'll go grocery shopping tonight, and then the whole weekend is whatever you want it to be, Jess."
--------------------------
On Friday morning, when she ran down the hallway and into her office, Jessica turned on her computer. While it started up, she grabbed a few more journals from her shelf to take to Jake's place. Her plan was to leave right from campus to spend the weekend with him, her overnight bag already in her trunk. When she logged in to check her university email, she had to read over the newest message three times to believe it.
Dr. Reed, I realize this is very short notice, so please allow me to apologize in advance. Dr. Conley is taking a short leave of absence, and in an effort to keep disruption to a minimum, there is an immediate need for professors who are willing to step in and teach some of his courses. Due to conflicting schedules, you are the only PhD in the science department who can advise his Senior Studies class on Wednesday afternoons. I know this will be an additional workload if you are willing to take it, so we can discuss compensation on Monday. However, if you are willing, please let me know today so I can finalize this schedule. It would be much appreciated. Sincerely, Dean Corbin Walters
"Oh shit," Jessica gasped. Brian was taking a leave of absence? And not only was the dean not upset with her, he was asking her to take one of Brian's classes? "Holy shit." She lunged for her keyboard and typed up a response so quickly, she had to read it three times to fix the spelling errors. Her heart was pounding, because she would have been willing to do this even without the extra compensation.
And now she sat back in her chair, wondering exactly what had happened with Brian's wife. The anticipation was going to eat her alive, but she had a quantum physics lecture to hold. First she added a note to her calendar to call Dean Walters' office and schedule a meeting for Monday.
By the time Jessica was leaving campus on Friday afternoon, she had a meeting scheduled with the dean. She also took the time to update and recalculate all of her grades, and Luca was finally passing. She rode down the elevator with a smile on her face, knowing Brian wasn't on campus, lurking around a corner, ready to give her a hard time. Instead she walked out to her car in her heels with her head held high.
Her stomach was growling, but she knew Jake would feed her all weekend. He would take care of everything. She wouldn't have to scrape together any sad meals or plan her lessons through next semester just for something to do. She was allowed to enjoy herself when she was with her boyfriend. She was allowed to let her feelings grow deeper.
Of course she wasn't disappointed when she knocked on the front door of his condo, and the door swung open to reveal him in an undershirt and gray sweatpants, the smell of something delicious wafting to meet her.
"Baby, you should call me from the parking lot next time," Jake drawled, reaching for her. "It's getting dark outside, and I don't want you walking around alone."
Jessica whimpered as he pulled her inside and locked the door. Of course she thought he was being a little dramatic, but she appreciated him nonetheless. "Okay, next time I'll call you." She barely got the last word out as his lips met hers. Her palm slid over the roughness of the stubble starting to grow in on his cheek before she pushed her fingers back through his hair.
"You're really not upset with me?" he asked softly, eyes closing to her touch.
"No," she promised. "I just needed some time to think about things, but I'm not upset with you."
It was all a seamless motion as Jake scooped her up by her thighs and backed up until he was sitting on his couch with her on his lap. "I missed you," he whispered, squeezing her legs and hips gently.
She laughed as he kissed her neck. "You saw me yesterday."
"It wasn't enough." His voice sounded a little rougher.
She tugged on his hair until his lips were hovering against hers. "It was less than a day ago."
His nose bumped hers as his hands tightened around her waist. "Well apparently I can't go that long, Jessica."
She could feel his cock hardening through his sweatpants, and the more she tugged on his hair, the raspier his voice seemed to get. His green eyes were so pretty and eager, and she wanted him right now. Her skirt was already bunched up on her thighs, so she took his hands in hers and used them to push the fabric the rest of the way up to her waist.
A little smirk formed his lips as she said, "I can't go another minute."
Jake grunted and shook his head before his eyes trailed down to where she knew her rose colored thong was on display for him, and he swiped one long index finger up along her clit. "Jake!" she gasped, grinding down on his cock. He did it again, and she rolled her hips again. "Oh my god."
With one hand, Jake hooked her underwear to the side, and the cool air met her wet core. With his other hand, he tugged himself free of his sweats and his underwear, his thick cock standing at attention for her. She didn't hesitate as she sank down around him, making him groan loudly. One slow roll of her hips, and she was groaning too. Just when she was getting a good rhythm going, her lips met his neck, and his phone alarm started blaring in his pocket.
"Shit," he grunted, stilling her movements with one hand on her butt as he mashed his fingers against his phone screen. "I'm making you a chicken pot pie, and I don't want it to burn." He stood with Jessica fully seated on his cock, and she grabbed at his hair and his neck as she wrapped her legs around his waist, losing one high heel as he walked.
"Fuck! Jake!" she nearly screamed, clenching around him with each step he took.
"Hang on, Baby," he whispered, setting her on the island before turning away from her to reach for his pot holders. She was whimpering for more as soon as he was gone, but she was treated to the sight of him removing the pie from the oven before tossing the pot holders on the floor and rushing back to her, his wet cock bobbing along. "I got you."
He was back where she wanted him with one sharp thrust, and the look of concentration on his face as he worked her up made her smile. "You liked it when I was walking, didn't you?"
All she had to say was, "Yes," and he had her up off the island again. She lost her second shoe as he grinned and walked around the island, rubbing the spot deep inside of her that made her ache with need. "Yes." She was a mess, clinging to him and making ridiculous sounds while he walked her back through the kitchen. And then she was clenching around his cock, with her lips to his ear, but when she saw the dinner he made for her, she came. She whined his name, one long, loud syllable.
Next thing she knew, he had her back pressed up against the refrigerator, magnets clattering to the floor as he got some leverage and thrust into her with all his weight. "Jessica," he growled, nudging her glasses with his nose and squeezing her butt. Then he filled her up with his cum, his cheeks flushed and his eyes half lidded.
Jake kissed along her lips as he murmured, "Let me feed you dinner, Smart Girl. And then we can do anything you want as long as you don't leave my side." --------------------------
Could things be looking up? I mean, Jake can't really be blamed, right? And it looks like scumbag Brian is found out once again. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 16
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carakook · 2 months
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Bloom. °˖✧✿✧˖°
“I said, don’t. Just shut the fuck up and let me have this. Just one more time, please…”
→ Chapters list ←
⚘4. Spring Is Gone
🔞For Mature Audiences Only🔞
╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗
⚘Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader
⚘Synopsis: After being granted with “closure”, you try to enjoy your last night with Jungkook. It’s an emotional and fucking steamy mess.
⚘Genre:Forbidden love
⚘Word count: 13K+ 🥴
⚘Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, emotional, mentions of cheating, active cheating, HEAVY smut, mouth spitting, wine kissing (idk if it’s actually called this but it’s what I have always called it LMAO), crying during sex, emotional sex, EMOTIONAL EVERYTHING YOU WILL CRY I AM WARNING YOU, grief, breaking up (sort of?), panic/anxiety attacks, alcohol, stealing (lol it’s kinda cute you’ll see,) making love (different from fucking), sort of rough, unprotected sex (always be careful, Y/N is on BC!), SAD JUNGKOOK I REPEAT SAD JUNGKOOK!!!! let me know if I miss anything there is a lot in this chapter.
⚘Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.
⚘A/N: The long awaited chapter. This is a long one. I cried. A lot. Holy shit? It’s actually so sad lol but also has some good smut. This isn’t the last chapter, as I said before this is a full on fanfic, I also have it on Wattpad but it gets barely any reads so if you are interested in that let me know. After this chapter, things get very… drama filled? Idk a good word for it lol. I hope you enjoy, and I’m sorry in advance if you cry. I highly recommend listening to the songs, each of them have a place in every chapter which is why I list them lol. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy. Love you.❤️
╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ :
♪Merry Go - DPR Ian
♪Gimmie Love - Joji
♪The Astronaut - JIN
♪Dope Lovers - DPR Ian
♪sex money feelings die - Lykke Lie
♪Angel - The Weeknd
♪Nerves - DPR Ian
♪505 - Arctic Monkeys
♪I Love You So - The Walters
♪Apocalypse - Cigarettes After Sex
♪Cry - Cigarettes After Sex
✧━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━✧
Since you both agreed on enough of the heavy shit, you spend time together. The mood is heavy for some time, almost awkward, which is why you break out the several bottles of wine you bought this week in an attempt to cope with the end of you and your flower. You’d much rather drink it with him anyway.
You can always buy more.
The wine helps. After you’ve both had a glass, it feels less strained. You continue eating pizza and watching whatever sappy drama is on TV. He picks up on his rant, starts explaining how sex is definitely comparable to pizza; sex creates life, and without sex, we wouldn’t have discovered pizza. Makes total sense. It’s stupid, but he has a point—a very Jungkook thing to think up.
By the time you’re both three glasses deep, you’re a bit wine-drunk. He holds his liquor much better than you do, but you can tell he’s feeling all fuzzy inside. You check your phone as he sits sprawled out on your couch, taking up almost the entire damn thing with his bulky ass. It’s nearly 11:30 pm… around the time he should probably go home.
You glance at him, debating whether to subtly kick him out or not. You don’t want to, god no. It literally makes you sick thinking about it. But you shouldn’t let him stay either, should you? You’re supposed to end this. This was the last night.
But you see how content he looks—like a big, overgrown spoiled dog with a belly full of treats, relaxing next to his favorite person.
You did say one last night… technically the night isn’t over. And he shouldn’t drive in this state, really, if anything, it’s just for his safety…
So you nudge his leg with your foot, and he turns his head lazily towards you, arches a brow, “Hm?”
“Sleep over?”
Oh, he fucking grins. His dimples on show, his eyes crinkling up adorably, and his big bunny like teeth saying hi.
Because what you don’t realize is he wasn’t going to leave. Fuck no. You said one last night, and he was going to milk that for everything it was. No way in hell was he going to go home tonight. If he’s being frank, that’s why he drank three glasses of wine. He didn’t need it. But he knew he could use it as a loophole to staying the night. You wouldn’t let him drive drunk.
He knows damn well what he’s doing, and he’s elated that you offered to let him stay. It means you want him here.
Even after all the bullshit, you still want him here. You want to prolong it, too.
“Hell yeah.”
He winks and then leans up a bit to stretch, causing his shirt to lift and give you the most indulgent peak of his stomach. You shamelessly stare, and he absolutely notices, lifting his arms a bit higher just to give you a better look.
He loves it when you look at him like that.
But then he stands up, casually grabs his car keys from the coffee table, as if he isn’t fucking teasing you.
Fuck. The wine is definitely kicking in. The warm fuzzies in your tummy are spreading elsewhere.
“Gonna go grab some stuff from my car then, make sure it’s locked, I’ll be right back.”
You hum in response and lean back into the couch. Watch him as he walks out the door, and find comfort in the fact that you know he’s coming back… even if it’s the last time.
Jungkook is doing his best not to let his mind wander to the more damning thoughts as he walks out of your complex and into the parking lot. Because he feels the opposite, no comfort at all. His anxiety is spiked now that you’re out of sight. What if you don’t let him in when he makes his way back to you? What if you change your mind about the sleepover? What if you decide you hate him?
Not only that, but he feels like he’s wasting precious time. As if the five minutes he will be away from you (barely) are irreplaceable and he’s just wasting them. It’s literally the end of the world… he shouldn’t be wasting time.
But that’s just his anxiety speaking. In truth, he doesn’t actually need the things in his car… but he packed a few things before showing up unannounced—things he wanted to leave you with.
Such as the little Polaroid camera you bought for him months ago, one that you yourself have used every single time you’re together. You always snap little candid pictures of him, sometimes yourself. He finds your fascination with the thing so fucking cute. He uses it, too, of course. He often takes pictures of you without you even knowing it… and you’ve both definitely taken some more raunchy pictures, pictures that he keeps hidden away in a box for when he misses your touch. For his eyes only. They’re priceless to him, probably some of his most prized possessions.
Speaking of those photos, he also packed a box full of them just for you. Pictures you’ve taken of him, of both of you, of anything and everything. He wants you to have them, wants you to be able to look at them when you miss him a little too much. He went through the photos over the last few days of no contact, greedily picked out his favorites, and put them into his own box for the same purpose. But he picked a generous amount out for you, too.
And as corny as it may sound, he packed a few pieces of his clothing. He knows how much you love stealing his shit, especially his shirts. Several are still missing, but he won’t ask for them back. He’Ll gift you with more, made sure to spray his cologne on them too, so that you can smell him on them. He packed his favorite shirt, hoodie, and something he will reluctantly, but willingly, part with. His denim jacket.
All of them are Calvin Klein branded. The shirt is basic, just a black shirt that’s fitted on him but swallows you whole. It’s the one you often steal when you sleep over at his second apartment, but he never let you take it home because it was his favorite. It’s worn in and soft, that’s why he likes it. But it’s yours now, just like him.
The hoodie is the same, basic black, one that you always tried to steal but never succeeded in doing so. It’ll be like a warm hug when you miss him, he thinks. You’ll love it more than he will. You’ll need it more than him on nights that you feel lonely.
The jean jacket isn’t anything special in appearance. It’s dark denim but is lined in that soft wool that keeps you warm and cozy. He wore it often in the cold months, thought it made him look handsome, but also kept him comfy. He’d rather you have it. He wants to keep you warm forever, hold you in his arms and never let go, make sure you never feel cold again… but he can’t exactly do that. So instead, he’ll give you his jacket.
The last thing is one of his chains. God, he knows you love those damn chains. He almost always wears one, silver or gold, depending on the day. And you always make sure to tell him how much you like them. He never really understood it; it’s something so simple. But you swooned for it. After you guys fuck, you’re always touching it, playing with it. Even when you guys aren’t fucking, you seem to have the impulse to touch it. Maybe it’s a girl thing, he doesn’t know. But he’s giving you one since you liked it so much.
Definitely a girl thing.
He also brought the bottle of perfume you dropped on his floor that night you stormed off… he was going to give it back. Return it to its rightful owner. But as he’s grabbing the bag full of goods out of his car… he impulsively takes it out. Wants to keep it. Wants to be able to smell you, too. He’s sure you won’t miss it.
You won’t miss that perfume as much as he’s going to miss you.
He quickly grabs the bag of stuff, nearly dropping it as he grows more restless because he’s not with you right now. You’re too far away, and every single second counts tonight.
So he rushes back into your complex building, nearly full-on sprinting back to your door.
As he lets himself back in, you’re in the exact same position. Sitting comfy on the couch, eyes on the TV, your wine glass a bit more empty now. Thank fuck.
He wasn’t even gone for more than four minutes. And yes, you did notice, you didn’t like it. But you knew he’d come back. So you waited. Wasn’t a big deal.
He’s just dramatic, for good reason of course. You can see the unease written all over his face as he pads his way back towards you, sets the bag next to your couch. He doesn’t disclose what’s in it and you don’t ask, you just assume it’s the bag he usually keeps in his car for impromptu nights like this.
He doesn’t want to present these little gifts to you yet… because he feels like that’s what’s going to really finalize it. So he’ll wait a little longer.
Would put it off forever if he could.
He takes a seat next to you, obnoxiously close. Your couch isn’t big, but there’s enough for two people to have a comfortable distance from each other. He doesn’t care. He wants to make sure he’s touching you in some way, so he nearly squishes you as he sits down as casually as ever and slings one of his arms on the back of your couch so that his fingertips rest on your shoulder.
He has an almost jittery energy about him right now. Obviously, emotions are heavy; it’s your last night together. It’s kind of hard to act totally ok and normal when you’re both well aware that this is the last night. But even then, somethings a bit off.
You study him for a moment, notice how he’s running his teeth over his lip ring again, how his leg is bouncing up and down a bit even as he tries to mimic a relaxed position on the couch. Maybe he’s anxious?
He is. However, that’s not what this is all about. He wants to kiss and touch you so badly it hurts. But now he’s unsure if he’s allowed. He doesn’t know what’s on and off limits tonight, and he doesn’t want to jeopardize your time together by fucking it up and making unwanted advances.
Overthinking. He wishes he didn’t do that. But he doesn’t even realize it’s happening until after things are said and done, doesn’t know how to stop it.
You assume maybe it’s just nervous energy thanks to the impending sense of doom you both feel. You feel similarly… but you hide it better.
More wine would help, you think.
So you lean forward and grab the bottle which is half empty, this is the second bottle of tonight. You top off each of your glasses as Jungkook watches, and you take a sip.
His eyes stay glued to your lips. He loves your lips. Loves all of you, but especially your lips. He thinks that will be one of the things he misses the most. How soft and pillowy they are, how they’re a bit rosey in color, how they taste, how they pout out a bit when you drink wine, how wine stains your lips so prettily, how they feel wrapped around his—
Yeah. Fuck it. One last night.
“Gimmie some.”
You glance at him and arch a brow, wonder if he’s referring to the wine… or maybe pizza? You literally just topped his wine glass off. He’s being weird.
“I just topped you off?”
He shakes his head, “Nah, I want yours.”
You scoff at him because now he’s just being childish. But he’s looking at you so expectantly, almost stubbornly, as if he’s asking for something more than the wine he’s demanding.
And he is. He doesn’t even really know what though. He’s being greedy, wants your wine because your lips touched the glass, because remnants of your spit might have melted into the wine after taking sips. He doesn’t want his own damn wine.
He wants to be greedy tonight. It’s not like he has anything to lose, he’s already lost it all.
So he reaches over and takes the wine glass from you, gets a bit impatient when he sees you aren’t gonna give it to him right away. He takes a slow sip, places his lips in the same exact spot yours have been every time you’ve taken a drink. It’s ridiculous, really… but he swears he tastes the faintest essence of you on the glass. Closes his eyes, swishes the wine around in his mouth, trying to see if he can taste more of you…
Ok, so, he’s definitely being a bit ridiculous. But fuck, he already feels like he’s going crazy. Can’t really help himself when he is desperately craving any little crumb of you.
You don’t know what to make of this. Part of you is amused, part of you is irritated, because he just stole your damn wine. But you also know there must be more to it, there has to be.
He cracks an eye open, sees you staring at him like he’s crazy, because he kinda is. Only for you, of course. He just swallows the wine and shrugs innocently.
“Yours is better, mine tastes weird.”
You roll your eyes at him because he has the same wine as you do. You can’t figure out what his game is here. So you reach over and take his wine and say, “Yours is literally the same as mine.”
To prove a point you take a sip of his. Just as expected, tastes the exact same as yours. He watches you carefully… gets an idea. An incredibly impulsive,almost intrusive idea.
But again… it’s the last night. And he’s greedy.
You huff at him and point his wine glass (which is now yours apparently) at him as you watch him take a huge gulp out of your glass again.
“Yeah, see, tastes the exact-“
He abruptly grabs the nape of your neck and cups your jaw with his free hand, his thumb coming to rest on your bottom lip and lowering it. He places his lips on yours, waits until your mouth instinctively opens just as it always does for him, and then funnels the wine into your mouth.
Fucking feeding you the wine like a baby bird.
It catches you by surprise at first, causing you to cough a bit and causing the wine to dribble down your chin, but you quickly gulp it down just like he gulps down the little gasp and cough you let out. He kisses you greedily, doesn’t even build up to it before he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth and swirling it against yours, tasting the heady mixture of wine and you. Fuck, you’re his favorite taste.
You don’t protest; of course you don’t. Was definitely a bit bizarre, but also… fuck, that was hot. Was a bit weird but in a super sexy way. You kiss him back, letting out little huffs of air into his mouth as one of your hands also finds the nape of his neck. The other hand automatically rests against his chest, clings to the fabric of his shirt tightly.
You both stay like this as long as possible. The kiss only grows more desperate and aggressive, teeth and tongue clashing beautifully together like thunder and rain. Your soft pants turn into eager breathes at some point, and he knows you need to breathe. But fuck, he wants to stay lip locked with you until he passes out.
This is when you start to second-guess things. Yes, this is the last night together… but knowing it’s ending makes the guilt a bit more prominent. This wouldn’t be ending if it wasn’t wrong, but it is wrong; sleeping with him again just seems so contradictory or maybe even hypocritical.
So you push at his chest lightly, a silent signal for him to slow down. God, he hates the way his stomach lurches. Can’t fathom the idea that you might kick him out right now. Please, god, don’t do this. I’m not a weed, I swear, I’m her fucking flower. I need her one more time, he silently prays even though he’s never been religious or prayed before.
When he pulls back with heavily lidded eyes, you speak up hesitantly, even though you don’t wanna stop, god not at all.
“Kook, we shouldn’t…”
That’s all you say. Because it’s really that simple. You shouldn’t be doing this; you should never have done it at all. But even then, you lack the ability to convince him. Because you want him, one last time. You’re just having a hard time willingly giving in again.
Jungkook knows you well. Knows your body language. He knows that if you truly wanted him to stop, you would’ve been more self assured when speaking. You wouldn’t sound like a meek little mouse, you’d be firm in telling him know. He can see the same thing in your eyes, it’s pure unadulterated want. But maybe you need reassurance, reassurance that one last time is ok, is needed.
You’ve both sinned so much already, one more time won’t change shit.
So his grasp on your jaw firms up a bit, he starts feeling a little too passionate about this. He coaxes your mouth open by smooshing your cheeks a bit before saying,
“Y/N, fucking don’t. Just let us have this, please.”
“But Kook-“
He grunts in frustration. Just as impulsively as he fed you wine kisses, he spits in your mouth. It makes you flinch, makes your pussy clench because fuck it’s so filthy but so hot. So intimate in a sort of fucked up way.
“I said, don’t. Just shut the fuck up and let me have this. Just one more time, please…”
He leans back down and starts kissing you again, licking into your mouth and adding more to the spit he put there moments ago. Doesn’t even give you a chance to protest. He kisses you like he’s going to die if he doesn’t. He’s sure he will. He’ll die a miserable death if he doesn’t love you one more time.
It's a bit harsh, but you know each other enough to know he isn’t trying to be forceful or rude; he’s just desperate. You are too, honestly. You know damn well if you said no and meant it, he would pull away and stop immediately. Your body has always been safest with him. You don’t want to stop, not really. You’re thankful he’s being like this. It’s the push you need to ignore the guilt for a while longer and share your body with him one last time.
When he feels that you’ve melted into him, with no more tension or hesitancy in your body, he pulls away, nipping at your lower lip once and then sucking on it. Then his lips travel down, and he licks the wine staining your chin off before placing sloppy kisses down your neck.
He doesn’t even ask before he starts sucking and licking on your sensitive skin. Not kitten licks, not gentle sucks, no, he’s full-on giving you hickeys, and you know it. You know it’s intentional when you feel him pull back a bit to take a peak, only to lean back in a second later and bite.
The hand on his nape fists into his hair, and your back arches a bit, causing your chest to push against his chest, “Fuck, Kook…”
You should tell him to stop marking you up like this. You don’t like showing up to work or visiting friends with visible hickeys because questions get asked. And as much as you wish you could admit who they’re from, you can’t. No one knows about Jungkook. No one even knows you’re seeing someone right now, and you don’t want to have to come up with some story to cover your ass.
It’s a secret for you too.
But it’s the last night together… and the idea of having his hickeys on your neck, just to remind you a little longer that this was real, he was real, it’s an idea you quite like. Fucking love, actually.
He grunts at you, bites down a little harder, “What? Told you your wine was better…”
You let out a little breathy laugh when he says this, because of course he would play it coy, as if he didn’t just randomly start devouring you. Of course he’d blame it on the damn wine.
That breathy laugh quickly turns into a moan when one of his hands finds your tit, he starts squeezing and groping it through your shirt shamelessly, tweaking your nipple in the way he knows you love. God, he loves your tits. They’re the perfect size for him, he swears. They fit into his palm perfectly, feel like pillows, just like your lips. All of you is just so soft.
He kisses his way down your neck now that it’s all marked up in pretty purple and pink bruises blossoming, much like you do every single time he touches you like this. When he gets to your chest, he looks up at you through his lashes, and then he nearly rips your shirt off of you when he pulls it down.
His eyes leave yours as he looks down at the beautiful pillows on your chest. He just admires them for a moment, as if he’s at an art gallery studying each piece of art. That’s what you are, art. Everything about you inside out is otherworldly beautiful to him, tits included.
At this point, you’re lying down on your couch, legs parted for him. It’s a bit awkward because of how small the couch is, but that doesn’t stop either of you. He doesn’t give a fuck that he barely fits. He’ll make himself fit… just like he’s made himself fit into your life for months.
He wants to fit into your life just one more time, one more night, wants to meld together and tangle your roots so that it’s impossible to untangle them. He knows it’s wishful thinking, but that’s where this is all coming from. He’s not being aggressive and eager and greedy just because he’s horny, no, he’s doing this because maybe, just maybe, if he shows you with his body how much he loves you… how much he needs you… you’ll change your mind one day.
His mouth descends on your left breast, and he starts licking and sucking on your nipple. Your eyes roll back, and your entire body shudders at the sensations, fuck, it always feels like the first time. Before him, men didn’t pay such close attention to your body. Never even had a guy play with your tits before, Jungkook was the first. It was so odd at first, but it quickly became one of your favorite things. Makes you get so wet so fast.
You love how he looks up at you when he does it, his eyes full of asters and stars alike, hearts and moons, lust mixed with love and it’s a dizzying sight. You wonder if this is how you look when you go down on him, if that’s why it unravels him so quickly. You’d understand if so, you wish so badly you could snap a picture of him like this and preserve it.
It’s funny because he’s thinking the same thing. How beautiful you look when he goes down on you, how your eyes mimic his own, and how you have a hard time controlling your facial expressions when the pleasure is too intense. His favorite thing is when you start furrowing your brows and almost pouting at him without realizing it; the little pants and mewls you let out without meaning to, it drives him absolutely insane.
He wants to capture it, too. Fuck, tonight is a night to remember, he wants everything solidified in film. Every single kiss and touch and whisper spoken tonight, he needs to preserve it.
He sucks on your nipple for a few more seconds, his other hand flicking the nipple on your right breast. Wants to get you all worked up for him. he then pulls back, letting go of your tit with a wet pop sound. Lets his hands rest on your thighs and rubs his palms up and down them as he takes you in.
You let out a little whine when he pulls away, but you don’t protest. His pupils dilate heavily as he looks down at you because, holy fuck, you’ve never let him mark you up like this. He doesn’t even like giving hickeys, thinks it’s a bit immature, something meant for college. But seeing you blooming pink and purple from your neck down to your pretty tits? It makes his cock twitch hard in his sweats.
He removes one hand from your thigh, and reaches down to palm himself through his sweats. He squeezes his cock as he takes in your already debauched look. Marked up, tits out, lips swollen, eyes heavy… fuck. You may be what kills him, not heart break.
One last squeeze to his cock to relieve a bit of the pressure, and he lets go of it. He knows you’re getting a bit impatient by how you’re shifting in your spot, but you know he wants to take his time tonight. So you don’t say anything, no matter how much you wanna beg for his dick or his mouth.
He leans over the couch to unzip the bag he brought, grabs the Polaroid, and then readjusts himself between your legs. He sets the camera down on your stomach and brings his hands back to where your thighs are spread prettily for him.
You arch a brow, and he gives you a little smile. He still looks a bit fucked, his eyes black with want and his cock literally tenting his sweats. The smile is much too sweet for what you’re both doing.
“Take as many pictures as you want, there’s a full roll of film in there. Can keep ‘em for when you miss me.”
Now is not the time to cry. Fuck.
You nod at him, grab the camera and keep it close. You wonder if he planned this or if it was a coincidence that it was in his bag. Regardless, you’re thankful. Elated even, that he’s going to let you capture this and preserve it for those nights you doubt he was ever even real. There's no time to be sad now; you can grieve him when he’s gone.
He flicks his tongue over his lip ring as he looks down at you again, there’s so much that he wants to do tonight, but he knows damn well the moment his cock so as much touches you, he’s going to lose control. He needs to lavish you with love and attention first before even thinking of himself.
He grabs the hem of your shirt, gently pulls it over your head. You lay pliant, let him take the lead and do whatever he wants. God, anything for him as long as he keeps looking at you like that, like you’re the reason he breathes.
Next he takes off the pajama shorts you had on, slowly fumbling with them because of the awkward position on the couch. It makes you giggle at him, which makes him giggle at you. Now that you’re both a bit calmed down, not quite as worked up, you realize maybe the couch isn’t the most practical place.
Even then, you take the Polaroid and snap a picture, capturing his bashful smile on camera as he tosses your shorts away. He doesn’t protest; he lets you. Watches as you take the photo it spits out and stare at it lovingly before setting it on the coffee table.
His hands are on your thighs again, and despite the fact you’re nearly butt naked now, his eyes stay steady on your face. He reaches forward, grabs the camera from you, and snaps his photo of you. He focuses the Polaroid specifically on your neck to capture the hickies he left, wants to remember you marked as his. He retrieves the photo after the camera spits it out. He doesn’t look at it yet; just tosses it inside of his bag next to the couch.
At your huff and shy little glare you send him, he chuckles, hands you back the camera, and before you can scold him, he lightly swats your thigh. Then he gets off the couch and picks you up bridal style.
It’s hard to be mad at him when he makes you feel like a princess. You don’t actually mind that he took the picture, as embarrassing as it feels. You know it’ll be for his eyes only.
He easily carries you into your bedroom, kicks the door open, and deposits you on your bed. Wasted no time before he’s taking off his shirt and sweats, and fuck, you swear he’s a Greek god. Perfect, in every way. You could drool every damn time you see any bit of his skin. His broad shoulders, his tiny waist, his subtle and toned thighs, it’s a lethal combination. Any woman who sees him like this surely could keel over at how beautiful he is, how sexy he is.
He gets on the bed with you, and you set the camera on the pillow next to your head. He settles between your thighs once more. He can feel himself starting to get impatient now that you’re both in only your underwear; his cock is still hard. Only getting harder as he stares down at you, looking at how pretty you look with your hard nipples glistening with his spit and your soft thighs spread just for him.
He descends, placing open-mouthed kisses on your tummy. Your hands come to rest in his hair as they’ve done many times because you know you’ll need to hang on. You know where this leads, and anytime he eats you out, it’s an out-of-body experience. The things this man’s mouth can do are unholy, but still feel like heaven.
His eyes stay on you as he kisses his way down to your thighs. He nips at them lightly, causing you to whine. He covers your lower half in kisses, not missing a single ounce of your skin as he lavishes your inner thighs with sweet little declarations of love that just aren’t enough.
You lift your hips ever so slightly, tug on his hair a bit, send him a silent message that says please fucking put your mouth on me before I explode.
He smirks against your skin, looks up at you as he trails his lips upward, “Just feel it, baby, let me love on you.”
You want to roll your eyes at this, but don’t say anything. Just try to regulate your breathing. You know he’s wanting to savor it, savor you. He has every right to.
But he knows what you need; can tell by the way you’re scratching his scalp that you’re itching to feel his mouth on you. And if he’s being honest, he’s growing a bit impatient, too.
So he finally trails his lips past your thighs, onto the mound of your cunt which is still covered by your panties. The moment he sees the wet spot seeping through, smells your arousal, his patience disappears. Suddenly, he’s fucking starving.
He doesn’t even take your panties off before he starts kissing your cunt, sucking on your clit through the fabric. The feeling makes your body nearly jolt, your hips bucking into his face as you tug on his hair and let out an incredibly strained moan. Fuck. So much for taking it slow and dragging it out.
He becomes a man possessed once he tastes you. He’s letting out grunts as he borderline makes out with your panties, suckling the fabric to get every drop of your essence off of them and onto his tongue. It’s genuinely filthy, debauched, but god, it’s hot.
He leans back with flared nostrils and glistening lips, looking like he’s wearing lipgloss. Made specially by you, of course. He nearly rips your panties off and throws them into the pile containing his clothes at the end of the bed.
A coincidence, he tells himself. He’s totally not planning on ‘accidentally’ taking them home with him… not at all.
He leans back down, grabs your thighs, and props them over his shoulders as he maneuvers himself to lay flat on his stomach on the bed, his knees keeping him steady as he presses his face into your pussy.
He inhales you, takes in your scent. So musky and pretty, so uniquely you. He wishes he could bottle it up and wear it as a fucking cologne. He rubs his nose around in it, nudging your clit back and forth, almost as if he’s motor-boating you but instead of your tits, it’s your cunt.
God, it’s lewd. But he can’t get enough.
You already feel yourself becoming a little too turned on but wanna capture this moment. Wanna preserve how fucked he looks when he does shit like this, only ever for you. So you grab the Polaroid with one shakey hand that leaves his hair, and you snap a quick photo. It comes out a bit blurry, but you don’t mind. You place the camera back on the pillow alongside the fresh photo and have to double down on gripping his hair because, holy fuck, this feels so good.
His tongue finds your entrance and starts licking inside, trying to get every last drop of your cream greedily into his mouth. He uses his nose to stimulate your clit, one of the perks of having a big nose. He’s grunting as he licks into your cunt, almost sounds feral doing so. He doesn't even recognize his own voice with the damn noises he's making.
As much as you don’t want to admit it, watching this all unfold has you dangerously close already. Your thighs are quivering on his shoulders, and your toes are curling along his back. The way he’s breathing into your pussy, sucking and licking and nudging it with his nose, fuck, it has you a mess. The noises you’re making you can’t control; you’re starting to sound just as feral as him.
“Mmmph… Koo… gonna cum soon, slow down…”
You babble at him. You wanna cum so bad, but you also don’t want it to stop so soon. If you had one wish at this very moment, it would be that he does this forever. He looks so lovely in between your thighs, licking and sucking you up as if it’s his last meal.
Because it is his last meal. After this night, he’s gonna be starving for eternity without you.
He huffs out a little laugh against your clit, the hot air causing your back to arch and fingers to tighten in his hair; if he doesn’t ease up, your thighs are surely going to crush his damn head.
“Cum then. Fucking give it to me, Y/N. Let me earn it.”
He nearly growls at you before he dives back in with renewed vigor. He replaces his tongue, which was deep in your cunt, with his fingers. He uses his mouth now to suck on your clit. As you look down at him, you’d swear he was kissing it, making out with it, making love with his fucking mouth. The added pressure of two of his long fingers crooking inside of you is quickly bringing you to your end.
But what nearly makes you cum on the spot is the way he starts fucking humping the bed. Acting like a virgin humping a pillow, he moves his hips back and forth on the mattress just for some sort of stimulation to his cock because it started getting so hard it was damn near painful.
He knows how desperate he looks but doesn’t care. Clearly, you enjoy it, judging by the way you start panting, and your pussy starts pulsating and tightening around his fingers. They fuck into you harder, rubbing up against the spongy flesh inside, all while he makes out with your clit.
His eyes open to meet yours, and you’re done for. Seeing that desperation and love in his eyes mixed with the fact he’s fucking humping your bed makes your pussy throb. You begin cumming hard, tugging on his hair as your thighs clasp around his head. He damn near whines into your cunt, the noise only causing vibrations to make it so much more intense for you.
“Nnngh oh shit! Fuck, oh fuck Koo… oh my god, shiiit…”
Your hips buck up into his mouth eagerly; you can’t even control it. Your feet planted on his back, toes curling, thighs trembling around his face, and your face scrunched up in pleasure. You see stars- no- you see an entire fucking galaxy as you cum all over his face. Full of stars, moons, planets, gardens, all of which are full of him and every single fiber of his being.
All for him, just as he is all for you.
He fucks you through it, does his best to prolong it, but he knows he’ll make you cum again on his cock. He is aching to be buried inside of you. He wants to make love to you, not fuck you, he wants to meld your bodies together and become one tonight.
After what feels like forever, your body relaxes, and the spasming of your clit dies down, causing it to become sensitive. He can tell by the way your legs shake and your body jolts when he applies too much pressure with his tongue.
He reluctantly pulls back, licking your juices off of his lips before placing little kisses all over your thighs and pelvis. He looks fucked, his nose and his lips are glistening obscenely in the dim lighting, and his eyes don’t look brown anymore but black.
When your eyes travel downward, you whine at him. His cock is nearly tearing through his underwear, which you now realize he’s wearing your fav, the purple CK’s. There’s a little stain where the head of his cock presses, so much precum, all for you.
He looks down where your eyes are trained, and he snorts at himself. Jesus fuck, he really is acting like a desperate teenager, isn’t he? But he can’t find himself giving a shit. He wants you to know how desperate and unhinged you make him. He can’t say he’s ever been so horny he borderline fucked a mattress, not until now. And it’s all because of you.
He takes off his underwear with shaky hands and tosses them somewhere in your room. Then he settles between your legs again, rubbing up and down your thighs as he takes you in as if it’s the first time.
Your hands come up to his chest, scraping your nails down it slowly, which earns you the most beautiful groan from his lips. He bites down on them, and his cock jumps upward, begging to be touched. So you trail your hands lower until you find his aching length and take it into your hand, start stroking him lazily.
His breathing becomes labored, and his eyes flutter shut. Even just your hand feels so fucking good. His hips jerk forward, seeking more stimulation. Fuck, he can’t get enough.
One of his hands remains on your thigh while the other reaches for the camera. He boldly angles it directly at your cunt, snaps a photo of it, making sure to capture the way your slick folds glisten in the light, along with all of the purple flowers blossoming on your thighs. His tattooed hand is barely in the shot but is visible enough to make it clear it is him in this photo.
He tosses the photo in the same pile his clothes and your panties lay next to the bed, and then angles the camera towards your face and body to take another. He thinks you’re so pretty like this. Cheeks flushed, lips puffy because you always bite them right before you cum, eyes bright with afterglow. You look like an Angel, especially in this moment.
He’s sure you’re an Angel sent from the God he doesn't even believe in.
He snaps another photo and tries to steady his shaky hands because the way you’re stroking his cock feels borderline painful. Too slow; he needs more. Beads of precum drip down his cock as if it’s crying. It may as well be crying for you.
He quickly takes the photo, tosses it in the same pile, and then does the same with the camera without thinking. Is getting way too worked up with how you’re stroking his dick and looking at him like a Greek god.
Because he is one. You’ll say it time and time again.
He leans over your body and settles in between your legs. You remove your hand and wrap your arms around his shoulders, burying your fingers in his hair again. He grinds his cock onto your pussy, coating it in the remnants of your cum and juices, and starts kissing you slowly.
The kiss isn’t like the one with wine; this one is sweet, loving, still desperate, but more patient. His lips work with you in unison, your puzzle pieces coming together once more. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it makes you moan into his mouth, which causes his cock to twitch against your pussy. God, he loves the sounds that you make. Music to his ears, he’d play it on repeat if he could.
He slowly drags the tip of his cock down to your entrance which is well prepared for him, and even more slowly starts thrusting inside of you. He wants to feel you deeply, feel every ripple and ridge of your pussy, every pulse and throb. He wants to catalog it and replay it over and over in his head for when he misses you.
Jungkook is definitely gifted when it comes to his manhood. It’s not too long, a good seven and a half inches, but fuck he’s so girthy. When you first fucked him, you could barely handle how thick he was. Nowadays, you can absolutely handle it, but that first push always gets you fucking squirming. The pressure and stretch are nothing like you’ve ever felt before.
You let out a stuttered gasp into his mouth when he buries himself to the hilt, his balls flush against your ass, and he stays there for a moment so that you can adjust. You break the kiss, wincing a bit as you turn your face to try and hide the way it scrunches up as it always does the first few moments he’s inside of you.
He doesn’t like that. Not at all.
He pulls his face back from yours and steadies himself on his elbow as one of his hands comes up to grip your jaw. He turns your face towards him, doesn’t let you look away or try to hide.
“Uh-uh, you look at me when I fuck you. I wanna see every single detail of your pretty face if this is the last time I get you like this.”
You whine at him, your eyes fluttering shut and cheeks warming. For some reason, that’s embarrassing, like being called out for talking in class or some shit. But even then, your pussy clenches around his cock, because you love it when he takes control like that, when he makes it clear what he wants.
He shakes your jaw a bit when he notices you closing your eyes, causing them to open instinctively. He looks just as fucked as you do, his nostrils are flared, and he’s sweating slightly, clearly holding back.
“Eyes on me, Y/N. Don’t you fucking dare look away. Look me in my eyes while I make love to you.”
Fuck. It takes every single bit of strength you possess not to cry. There he goes, voicing the fact that tonight isn’t going to be some hard fuck. It’s making love.
That terrifies you.
Making love is something entirely different compared to fucking. Some people disagree, but you don’t. Fucking is mindless, meant for pleasure and pleasure alone. Sometimes, there's intimacy after, but it’s mostly just sex. Making love, of course, comes with pleasure, but that’s not its purpose. Its purpose is to come together with your partner, show each other how much you love them, let all of your emotions run wild and free while sharing the most intimate parts of your body together.
Fucking is like buying a bouquet of roses. You get to see them, water them, keep them on display, but the joy dies quickly because the roses die, too.
Making love is like growing a garden of roses. You can’t make love until you grow that love with someone; nurture it, watch it morph and evolve. And then the flowers bloom. The love bursts, the petals are vibrant in colors made up of you and your partner.
Both are lovely. Everyone loves buying a bouquet of roses, but few get to experience growing their own.
You’ve never made love. Tonight will be the first time.
And it will probably be the last.
You nod at Jungkook stupidly, keeping your eyes on his just as he asked you to. Once he sees your eyes remaining on him, he starts slowly moving his hips. His cock slides in and out of you, your arousal can clearly be heard by the noises your cream coating his cock every time he slides in and out makes. It’s beautiful.
This is beautiful… and so goddamn tragic.
He’s also fighting tears. Because, unlike you, he has made love before… or thought he did. He swore on his wedding night he made love to his wife, but it was nothing like this. You’ve barely even started, and he can feel the stark difference. God, it makes him question fucking everything. He never felt this way with his wife, with anyone, only ever with you.
But now isn’t the time to think of such things, to dissect the fact that maybe what he had with his wife was never actually love, but comfort. Now is the time to share your love together, one last time.
He starts moving his hips a bit faster. His arms reach under your body and wrap around you, trying to get as close as humanly possible. He rests his forehead on yours, keeps his eyes on yours, too. He starts panting, is fighting back tears. He is trying so hard not to cry right now.
“I love you.”
Fuck.
You let out another stuttered breath, and then your breathing picks up entirely as you fight back tears. Your arms are wrapped around him now, nails digging into his back like you’re afraid he will float away. Because you are, you’re so scared that if you let go, he will disappear. You don’t want him to disappear.
He starts pounding a bit deeper, grunting with each deep thrust as he grits out again,
“I love you.”
Fuck he needs to stop.
“Jungkook— nngh… don’t…”
He shakes his head, his breathing heavier, and his thrusts bordering on aggressive now. That’s not abnormal for him; sex with you both is regularly rough. But this is so different. It isn’t the dominating kind of aggressive but desperate, full of passion and love and grief.
“No, Y/N, look at me. I love you. I fucking love you so much, Y/N. I love you.”
And you break.
Crying for you also isn’t abnormal during sex with him specifically. It’s always intense, so sometimes you cry. Not out of sadness or pain; it just happens sometimes. He came to learn that quickly.
But just like how he’s making love to you, these tears are different. You’re weeping for the loss of your lover, but also because you are still so full of love for him. You’re crying because for the first time since this mess started between you, you believe him when he says he loves you. Deep down in your core, in every single crack and crevice of your being, you feel his love for you.
You see it in his eyes as he looks at you, you feel it in the way he touches and kisses you, you hear it in the way he speaks to you when he says it. He loves you so fucking much, and you regret refusing to see it until your last night together. You wish so badly you could have savored his love more seriously rather than deny yourself of it.
You wish things were different.
So you cry for him. The moment the first tear falls, you don’t hold back. You let out something between a moan and a sob as he fucks his cock into you, and his hips stutter when he realizes you’re crying. He didn’t want you to cry, fuck, he doesn’t think he can handle that right now without crying himself. He just wanted you to know, needed you to know that you are loved by him. So fucking loved.
He keeps his eyes on yours, watches the tears fall. He tilts his head slightly and starts kissing the tears away, even as they continue to fall. Greedily kisses them away because they are for him. This will be the last time you water his fully bloomed flower, so he will be greedy. Because he knows that after this, his flower will wilt away, maybe he will, too. So he lets you cry and he kisses and fucks you through it.
He feels himself getting close, his cock starting to twitch and his hips grinding harder into your pelvis. He feels you getting close, too, the way your cunt starts pulsing in rhythm with his cock. You’ve never come at the same time before. He hopes that tonight, he can make it happen.
“Fuck, you feel like home… I love you so much…”
A strangled sob escapes your throat at his words. It’s like he can’t stop saying it, can’t get the words out of his mouth enough. You’ve yet to say it back because you’re afraid his glittery eyes will water, too. But god, you need him to know.
“I love you too, Koo… more than anything…”
And you were right. Hearing you say it amidst your tears, combined with the way your pussy starts rippling around his cock, throbbing and clenching directly after you say it, it’s too much.
He cries. Tries to hide it with a moan, but it’s no use because his tears fall onto your cheeks. You both start crying harder, and he starts fucking you faster. His arms tighten around your waist, and he starts kissing you. Lets you taste your melded tears, his sorrow, his devotion, his love all poured out into this kiss and his tears.
You both water each others flower for the last time.
You feel the familiar pressure building as you kiss him back, your tears mixing with his, the taste addicting. You hate seeing him cry; you know it’s going to haunt you for weeks. But right now, you’re consumed with wanting to be as close to him as possible, and you want to share this moment with him.
You wrap your legs around his waist, and your hips start matching his thrusts. The kiss turns a bit sloppy and uncoordinated because he’s very clearly about to cum; you can feel his cock start twitching and pulsing aggressively inside of you.
“I love you, Y/N. I love you. I. Love. You.”
He groans loudly, his voice sounds strained and distraught. “Come with me.”
You assume he means he wants you to cum at the same time as him. He wants you to cum together, which is definitely going to happen; you feel the string about to snap on both sides.
But really, it had dual meaning. Cum with me, but also come with me. Anywhere, everywhere, please run away with me, please love me forever and ever, please save a piece of your heart for me, please don’t stay away from me forever.
One last thrust and his pelvis grinds into yours as his balls draw up taught. He whimpers into your mouth, and his pelvis grinding into you, mixed with how fucking deep his cock is inside of you, is enough stimulation to your clit to cause you to hurl over the edge a second time. You cream all over his dick, your hips writhing beneath him as you whine and moan into his mouth. His cock jerks hard inside of you, shooting hot ropes of cum that seem endless. Your souls meld together much like your tears do, and you both cum harder than you ever have.
It’s like, in this moment, you are one. You both share a garden, flowers at full bloom, no pesky cages or fences to hinder you from flourishing together. There’s sunlight, and bees, and soil, and plenty of water. It’s peaceful, it’s heaven, it’s home. It’s where you both swear you belong.
Both of your orgasms seem to last eternally. It’s endless, his cock jerking and spurting in rhythm to the way your pussy milks him and pulses around him. He stays buried to the hilt until his cock tires out and your pussy stops milking him.
Even after, he stays like this. You both say nothing as you silently cry together, still connected intimately as you share little kisses between tears.
You made love. He made love to you.
You know damn well you’re ruined for any other man going forward after that.
He exhales a shaky breath and starts peppering your face with little kisses. Despite the tears, he feels lighter than before. There’s still that impending sense of doom, but he knows in his heart that you know he loves you now. That’s all he wanted from tonight…
And despite the sex being pretty vanilla compared to what you usually do, Jesus fuck, that was the best sex he’s ever had.
As he attempts to kiss all of your tears away, he starts whispering the sweetest shit to you, even as he continues crying.
“My baby…”
Kiss.
“My love…”
Kiss.
“My pretty girl…”
Kiss.
“My angel…”
Kiss.
“My heart…”
Kiss.
“My soul…”
Kiss.
“My fucking everything…”
Kiss, kiss, kiss.
Fuck, it makes you swoon hearing all of those sweet words. Not sweet nothings, but sweet declarations. Pure truth. You are and have been his everything despite how fucked up it all is.
You always will be. Fucking always.
You cry a bit harder, nearly blubbering now. He keeps crying, too, not quite as hard as you because he doesn’t want this to be harder for you than it already is… but he knows the moment he leaves you in the morning, he will cry twice as hard.
You realize you’re still clinging to him; there are definitely going to be red marks all over his back. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist, keeping him buried inside of you because that’s where you swear he belongs. He would agree with you.
But you remove your hands from his back and bring them to cup his face, and you feel so fucking drained from the intense sex and crying and the entire goddamn rollercoaster of today… but you don’t want it to end. Fuck, you’re so afraid for it to end.
You place a soft kiss on his lips, “I love you. I really do. Always have, always will, forever and ever…”
He smiles sadly down at you, nods. Because he knows. He never once doubted how much you loved him; every single time he was with you, he felt your love. Even when you were mad at him, you made him feel loved. He wishes so badly that he could’ve made you feel as secure as you made him feel.
You will never know how utterly thankful for you he is.
“I know baby, I know…”
You let out another choked sob and bury your face in his neck. He lifts himself off of you slightly, and he moves himself so that he’s lying beside you instead of on top of you. You cling to him again, refuse to let him go. Can’t. Won’t. Don’t want to. Can’t fucking bear it.
He gently slips his cock out of you and then wraps his arms around you, one hand coming to cup the back of your head and stroke his fingers through your hair, the other rubbing your back soothingly.
You cry and cry and cry. It’s pitiful how hard you’re crying; if anyone saw you right now, they’d be certain someone had died. It really feels that way, as if he’s dying while holding you right now. He feels like he’s dying watching you crumble like this, but he doesn’t dare stop you.
He doesn’t even reassure you because all that would do is give you false hope for something that may not happen ever again. For all you know, after this, you will never cross paths. He may just become a ghost to you…
A flower that bloomed in the spring and died come winter.
There were so many things you wanted to do tonight. You wanted to shower together, wash his hair for him, show him how to bake those cookies you know he loves, stay up and talk about a bunch of pointless shit, rewatch your favorite movies together, fuck a few more times, choke on his dick one last time, kiss him and touch him all over all night. So so so much more.
You didn’t want to stop here. You wanted to stay awake and savor every last second together just as greedily as him. But god, as you sob in his arms, you feel yourself growing so heavy with exhaustion that you can’t keep your eyes open.
“Don’t let me fall asleep, Koo, make me stay awake…”
He buries his face in your hair, his tears making wet patches in your strands. He inhales deeply just to get another whiff of your shampoo, fuck, he needs to figure out which one it is before he leaves so he can buy it and use it. Doesn’t even care if it’s weird. Wants to smell like you. Wants to be surrounded by reminders of you forever.
Like you, he’s been crying this whole time but so quiet that you don’t even realize it. He made sure you wouldn’t realize it. This is your time to get comfort from him, he can’t offer you reassurance, but he damn sure can comfort you through the pain that is his fault.
“Rest, baby… I’m here…”
You shake your head at him, keep your face buried in his neck even as your eyes start to lull shut.
“No, slap me, keep me awake… don’t wanna… sleep… please…”
He can feel your body start to go limp, can feel your tears running down his neck. He knows you’ll be out cold soon. You were fighting a battle you just couldn’t win, and god he wishes he could keep you awake. But he knows you’re emotionally overloaded right now…
And maybe if you fall asleep in his arms, you’ll rest peacefully for tonight. You deserve that, he thinks. You deserve so much peace and happiness.
“It’s ok Y/N… I got you. Just sleep. My baby needs rest, hm?”
You try so fucking hard to respond. But he’s right; you’re fighting a losing battle. Your body can’t keep up with your brain to the point you’re slurring your words. Maybe it’s the after-effects of a fight or flight response because it really felt like you were fighting for your love when making love tonight… fighting to keep hold of his roots as they slowly became untwined from yours. And now, you’re simply too tired.
“I… I love you… so… much…”
He lets out a shaky breath and closes his eyes. Holds you a little tighter. Because, fuck, your last words before lulling into a deep sleep were that you loved him. It’s as it should be, but for some reason, it wrecks him, knowing that this is the last time he will hear them.
When your breathing evens out, he pulls back, stares at you. Your brows are furrowed even in sleep, clearly troubled. But you don’t stir and your grip on him loosens. You are so fucking beautiful. He wishes so badly he could just stay like this, watching you rest, in your arms while you’re in his.
Holding each other, as if you’re both one person instead of two.
He knows he won’t sleep tonight. He’s just as overwhelmed as you, but instead of his body shutting down, his adrenaline has spiked. He’s dreading leaving this bed, dreading leaving you.
He stares for an almost pathetic amount of time. Just lays beside you and takes in every soft detail of your face, traces his fingertips over your features. He finds himself wondering, what if he married you instead? What if you met sooner? What if you lived with him and had his babies one day?
What if… he left his wife?
He has to stop himself there. He makes a pained noise and buries his face in your hair again because he knows he can’t think like that. He could leave his wife; he probably should, but he feels like he owes her his life, his devotion. He married her, for fucks sake.
And even if he did leave, he doubts you’d ever be capable of having a healthy and stable relationship. People in these situations rarely do; it’s a form of karma, he thinks. Husbands who cheat and marry their mistresses often get cheated on, or they end up do it again.
He swears, fucking swears on his life that he would never do that to you. But he knows you probably wouldn’t trust him; any woman in your situation wouldn’t. You’d always be left wondering if he’d turn around and do the same to you one day.
Oh, Jungkook, how badly you’ve fucked up…
He has no idea how much time has passed by the time he checks the little alarm clock on your bedside table. He honestly can’t recall when he got here or what time ‘one more night’ started, but as of now, it’s 5 am.
He wants to stay. Wants to fall asleep holding you, wake up and make you breakfast, draw you a cozy bath and massage your back for you… wants to treat you as a lover would.
But he knows that if he doesn’t leave soon, he won’t leave at all. The moment you open your eyes, he will beg again. He will cry and beg and plead for you to change your mind.
Which is way too selfish, considering he’s still a coward, still unwilling to leave his wife both out of fear and knowing the reality of what happens once he does.
So he places one last kiss on your forehead, breathes you in one last time, and then quietly extracts himself from your hold. Standing up and getting off the bed, he looks down at you.
He swears he can see the exact place you keep his stolen heart inside of you. He doesn’t want it anymore, it’s yours. Always will be.
He slowly starts dressing himself again with robotic-like motions. He isn’t crying anymore; he feels kind of numb at this point, or maybe his tears have just run out.
Acceptance? Or the calm before the storm? He isn’t sure.
He doesn’t bother taking a shower; can’t be bothered right now even if he smells like sex… smells like your sex specifically. He can blame it on being lazy, but he knows it’s because he wants your smell to linger a bit longer. He will shower later.
Once fully dressed he pads his way into the living room, grabs the bag full of stuff he packed for you. He takes it back into your bedroom and sits it at the end of the bed.
He carefully collects each Polaroid he took of you for himself and stuffs them in his wallet for safekeeping. After nearly considering changing his mind and taking the camera greedily, he decides he’ll leave it for you, even though it was a gift you got him. He knows you love it, but also knows you’d never buy one for yourself. And if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t think he could ever use it again without thinking of you. It would feel wrong to use it without you.
So he sets that on the end of the bed. He opens the bag, carefully takes out the clothing he packed for you, folds them, and arranges them in a neat pile. Next, he takes out the box of Polaroids; he made sure to put a label on it before coming that said ‘For Y/N.’ He sets the box next to the clothes and then carefully places the chain he packed on top of the pile of clothes.
He wants to arrange it almost as a surprise, hoping it’ll feel more like a gift and not so much like a goodbye this way.
Now that the bag is empty, his intrusive thoughts return. He wants so badly to turn into a little thief and take some of your stuff, too. You would have gladly offered it to him, anything he wanted, but you’re asleep. And he can’t stay much longer.
His intrusive thoughts win, and he can’t find himself feeling too guilty.
So he reaches down and grabs the panties you had on earlier, the same panties that he sucked on like a damn popsicle, and he puts them in the bag.
He quietly makes his way into your bathroom, looks around for a moment until he finds exactly what he’s looking for: the star pimple patches. He takes them, noticing that they’re in a cute little case with a face on it. He knows you love these things; they make pimples feel less like some kind of imperfection. He loves them, too. They remind him of a time when you showered him with love.
You won’t miss them, he thinks again. Not as much as he’ll miss you.
He greedily holds onto them, looks around to see if there’s anything else he can steal. He sees your scarf hanging on the back of your bathroom door; it was the scarf you wore one of the first times he took you to dinner. It’s honestly kind of ugly; it’s a dark and muted plaid, but you loved it because of how soft and warm it is.
It smells very strongly of you.
It’s his now.
He takes the scarf and decides that’s enough. He’s greedy, but he’s not an actual thief. Maybe more like a rat. As much as he wants to steal your shampoo, he decides just to make a mental note of the name because he knows you'll need it to shower when you wake up.
He stuffs the patches and scarf into the same bag and stands before you on the bed. Fuck. He doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t want to leave you.
But now is the perfect time; you’re sleeping soundly, dead to the world. If he leaves like this, there will be no hysterical begging or crying from either party.
Still, he finds himself procrastinating. He decides to open the box of Polaroid photos he packed just to make sure none of the ones he kept for himself snuck their way in. They didn’t. He knows they didn’t. But never hurts to double-check.
He comes across one photo in particular… it was a photo he took one night after you both had some very intense sex. He rented a motel that night because he was in Busan for business, and of course, he dragged you along with him. Busan is his hometown, and his wife has always hated it. She was born and raised in Seoul and always claims Busan is too boring, not lively enough. She always refused to go with him, even if it was to visit his parents.
You, on the other hand, you were so fucking excited to go. You talked his ear off the entire ride there, and once you arrived, you were so interested in everything around you. It was so fucking sweet because you told him the reason you were so excited was because it was a part of him. He was born here, which makes the place sacred. It was dramatic, but god, it was precious.
After you guys fucked that night, you both showered together. You got out of the shower before him, and you snapped a few pictures with the Polaroid; he made sure to put those in the box for you. At some point after, you were lying in the bed watching some cartoon on the motel TV, and he was smoking a cigarette. He noticed a vivid handprint from where he was slapping your ass while fucking you from behind. It was the first time he wasn’t really concerned about it, but proud. Because in some fucked up way, he marked you, even if it was temporary. You were his, and even if you doubted it, he was yours.
It was the same feeling he got tonight when giving you those hickeys. Just a little reassurance that you belong to him.
He took the photo to kind of solidify the feeling, preserve it. It was very aesthetically pleasing. One of his favorites, he’s realizing. He almost wants to take this one.
But instead, he decides to leave it with you, and before he does so he grabs a pin from your desk and writes:
I won’t let you forget us
-Kook
It’s cryptic, he knows. Maybe it’s selfish to leave a message like that… but perhaps it’ll keep you open for him. Not that he expects you to wait for him to get his shit together, god never. But maybe you’ll allow him to check on you now and then, maybe you won’t block his number, maybe, just maybe, you’ll save a piece of your heart for him…
He sets the photo down on top of the pile of folded clothes and steps back. He looks at the clock again, sees that it’s now 5:50 am. He has no idea how time passed that quickly because it only felt like maybe ten minutes had passed. He must have been moving slowly; his brain must have realized how much he was fighting this inevitable end.
As he stares down at your sleeping form, he genuinely considers staying. Considers refusing to leave.
And that’s exactly why he chooses this moment to leave. He has to get the fuck out of here before he does something stupid.
He walks over to you once more, leans down, and places a kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, then your chin, and starts peppering your face with kisses all over again. His heart is pounding fast, and he has the urge to run. With one last kiss to your lips, he yanks himself away and grabs the bag now full of items that don’t belong to him.
He wants to take in your space one last time, wants to linger and look around because this has been his safe space for literal months. But he fucking can’t. He feels his resolve weakening quickly by the second and knows one more second here, and he won’t leave.
He quickly makes his way out of your apartment, is nearly panting as he walks out of your complex and down to his car. His hands are shaking, his heart is beating at a scary pace, and he starts to feel fucking sick.
He borderline throws the bag in his back seat, and then gets into his car quickly. His hands shake so severely that he fumbles with his keys as he starts the engine. The moment the car turns on, he’s peeling out of the parking lot.
It wasn’t acceptance. It was indeed the calm before the storm.
He’s never felt like this before. He feels nauseous and almost panicky as he drives robotically down the morning streets of Seoul. His breathing is coming in so fast he gets dizzy.
It all hits him at once. This is the end. FIN. Over.
He swears he feels his flower die at that very moment. It wasn’t uprooted and moved to another garden; someone fucking stepped on his fully bloomed Bearded Iris. One second he was thriving, flourishing, and now he’s fucking dead.
He doesn’t even recognize the sounds of his own choked sobs as he drives down the street. He can’t breathe. He can’t fucking see. He feels like he’s dying, truly, he almost considers calling for help because he feels so full of despair and grief.
But who would he call? His wife? That's a fucking joke. You? He can't call you anymore. He can't call his friends either because none of them know. He's on his fucking own now.
Nothing could have prepared him for what it feels like to grieve the death of a love who is still alive.
He ends up pulling into a random parking lot once he’s a safe distance from your apartment. He slams his palms on his steering wheel and just fucking bawls. Tears fog his eyes, and he sounds almost childish because of the force in which he’s crying.
He knew the day he lost you would be the day that that he died. And right now, he is dying for you.
It isn’t until 10 am that you stir awake. You instinctively reach for him, but your hands only find cold sheets, meaning he left a while ago…
You didn’t expect him to leave so soon. You expected to be able to wake up to him one last time, so you’re disappointed when you realize his clothes aren’t on the floor anymore, and you don’t hear the sounds of him awake and making coffee in the kitchen.
But you suppose that was a smart move. If he had stayed, it would have just made it harder for you both, most likely.
You feel oddly… numb. As of now, no sadness. The only thing you feel is almost like a little zap in your chest; it’s subtle, to the point you aren’t even sure if it’s really there.
It’s off. Somethings not quite right.
You ignore the weird hollow feeling as you sit up and stretch; you realize you never showered, and you smell heavily of sex. So you get out of bed, and you make your way into your bathroom. You start the shower after using the bathroom, and as you wait to warm it up, you look at yourself in the mirror.
Fuck.
You are literally littered with marks. Your neck, all the way down to your chest, all the way down to your thighs. Purple and pink love bites all over you. He seriously fucked you up.
You feel that zap again.
You shake your head and tear your eyes away from the mirror, don’t notice how your star patches are missing from your skincare tub on your bathroom counter yet. You step inside the shower and spend a good while letting the hot water wash over your body, washing the remnants of sex and sweat off of your skin.
After about half an hour, you step out. Dry off. Get dressed. That’s when you walk back into your bedroom and notice the pile of clothing sitting on your bed. Clothing that isn’t yours.
You slowly approach it and quickly recognize the strong scent lingering on it: his cologne. You unhurriedly pick up each piece of clothing, see the shirt and hoodie you often attempted to steal from him, accompanied by one of his favorite jackets.
He left pieces of himself for you.
Zap.
You set them aside and pick up the chain and photo. Fuck, you love his chains. You always loved them because, one, they’re fucking hot, and two, you loved how they would dangle above you when he was fucking you. You doubt he realized it, but sometimes you’d bite it as he was fucking you, tug on it like a damn dog playing with their favorite chew toy just to see if it would break. It never did, and you never stopped being fascinated with his jewelry.
Zap.
You look at the photo and immediately recall the memory. Busan, now one of your favorite places, all because of him. It was such a good little trip. You tried a lot of street food you never had before, saw a lot of pretty things, and he fucked you beautifully that night. It was rough, passionate, and he left hand prints on your ass, and much like him, you loved it. This was one of your favorites, for sure.
But then you read the note.
I won’t let you forget us.
Zap. Zap. Zap.
You drop the photo and the chain on top of the clothes, let out a shaky breathe. Still, you aren’t really feeling much, maybe a bit of nostalgia accompanying the zaps… but no despair, no yearning or grieving…
Calm before the storm.
You decide you need some coffee and painkillers. You have a lingering migraine from all of the wine and crying last night, so you leave your bedroom and make your way into the kitchen.
You start making your coffee and swallow the painkillers dry. You lean against the counter as your coffee brews, then freeze when you look at the floor.
The purple wild flower lays there, stepped on by he-who-shall-not-be-named’s boot. Wilted and destroyed, the petals disconnected from the stem.
The flower is dead.
And now you break.
Those zaps you were feeling, you suddenly understand. It was your fight or flight kicking in again, and instead of your brain responding to it, it blocked it out.
Can’t fight it now.
You drop to your knees, start breathing heavily because you feel like someone placed bricks on your chest. Your heart aches, literally, it hurts, it feels like it’s going to explode and you feel like you can’t breathe at all.
You start crying again… no- you’re fucking wailing. You’re crying out for the loss of your flower, for the death of a lover who isn’t even dead, much like Jungkook had earlier.
It finally hits you that he isn't coming back. He's gone, and now, you're expected to move on. Your heart aches for him. Without him, do you even have a heart?
No, you really don’t, not right now anyway. The moment he stepped out that door, he took it with him. He fucking stole your heart just like he stole your pimple patches and perfume.
All you can do is cry for him, except right now, you don’t have him to cling to for empty comfort. Instead, you reach for the dead wildflower, hold it in your palm, bring it to your chest, and cradle it close as if you can somehow bring it back to life.
Bring him back to you.
Little do you know, he’s currently curled up in his bed at his second apartment. He hasn’t stopped crying since he left. He went back home, took the stolen perfume, and sprayed it all over his damn bed, and now he’s hugging a pillow as if it’s you. Imagining that it’s you, that this is all just a horrible dream, and he will wake up soon.
Both of you are lovers, stars who collided, planets who aligned, flowers who grew side by side.
But it was at the wrong time. And now you’re paying the consequences of your paths crossing when they shouldn't have.
So far away in the matter of hours when you were once so close, yet you’re both doing the exact same thing; clinging to shreds of each other and wishing so fucking badly that things could be different.
Both of you left each other without returning your hearts. Both of your flowers got stepped on instead of uprooted and re-planted somewhere safer.
Spring has passed, no longer bees buzzing and flowers blooming, but the cold harsh winter is coming.
It will be a while before either of you bloom again, if at all.
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The Farmer's Daughter 15
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Walter Marshall
Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)
Part of the Backwoods AU
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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Walter sighs as he shuts the hood of the truck. He tuts and faces you, keeping his hand on the metal, his other going to his hip. He looks at you then the sky behind you. The rain has stirred the scent of mud and grass and left a glaze over everything. 
“You’re lucky the thing didn’t blow up in your face,” he says. “Maybe the rain saved you.” 
“Oh, I... didn’t know,” you utter nervously. “Timothy said it was fine--” 
“Yeah, well, shows how much he knows,” Walter stands straight and pushes back his curls, “he’s not ready. He’s too young. I’ll make sure he learns. Be sad if he through away all your dad’s hard work, huh?” 
“Y-yeah, I guess,” you swallow. His words remind you of the imbalance. You need him. That’s the reality that brought you all the way up here. 
“Right, well, I’ll deal with it later. I got some chains I can use to get it up to the house but we should head into town then go see your mother. Make sure she isn’t worried sick,” he steps towards you and brings his hand up under your chin. You fight not to shy away, “what were you thinking? Putting yourself in danger like that?” 
“I... I had to come see you--” 
He smiles, “that’s sweet but I’d rather you wait and have you in one piece, sweetheart.” 
You nod into his hand and wince as he leans in. His thumb rubs your chin as he tilts your head up and he presses his lips to yours. Your surprised by his gentleness, though his beard grazes your roughly. You let him kiss you as he swoops an arm around to wrap you up. 
When he parts, your breathless and dizzy. His eyes gleam down at you, “wife,” he rasps out, “we’re almost there.” 
The shift in his mood puts you off. It’s just like back in the kitchen, one moment he’s terse and short, almost disappointed, the next he’s almost delicate and content. He releases you and takes you by the hand. You follow him back up towards the house. 
You wait outside as he runs in to get his keys. As he comes back out, you open the door of the truck and brace the interior. You put your foot on the small metal step to pull yourself up and gasp as you’re lifted from behind. Walter helps you into the seat and you wriggle free with a meek ‘thank you’. 
He kisses your cheek before he shuts the door. You focus on buckling the belt as he rounds the front of the truck. He climbs into the driver’s side and turns the engine. He sets off, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the corner of your seat. 
You sit quietly, watching the hills roll by. This is it. This is your life. You’re going to married and a wife and you’re going to be tied to this man and these lands forever. You never really thought it out, you just expected life to unfold before you. 
He pulls up to the bank and turns into the lot. He steers into one of the angled spots and kills the engine. You tap your fingers on your legs before you regain your bearings. As he opens his door, you do the same. You get out, hopping down with a small oof. You catch yourself on the door. 
Walt stomps around, “hey, hey, careful. Don’t hurt yourself.” 
“I’m fine,” you smile, “really, I can manage.” 
“I just don’t want you twisting your ankle,” he says. 
“Um, okay, all good,” you show him your foot, “really.” 
He stares at you. His cheek ticks. He takes your hand and shuts the passenger door. He tugs you away towards the front of the building. As you follow the sidewalk down to the entrance, you pass a few other curious pedestrians. You don’t miss there gazes and the low whispers between them. 
You go inside and find the bank empty. Walter drags you to the counter and taps the bell on it. You stand on your toes to see over the high desk and see a head pop out of a back office. The woman looks unimpressed as she goes to bang on the door next to hers, “customers.” 
She quickly retreats as you wait. The next door opens and another woman emerges. She’s taller than the other one, slimmer too. She struts over as she tugs straight the collar of her blouse. Her pretty pink lipstick clings to one lip as the other is faded to its natural hue. 
“Hello, folks, how can I help you today.” 
“I’d like to speak with an advisor about a mortgage,” Walter says as he lets go of your hand, instead hovering his large one along your lower back. 
“That’s exciting,” she chimes, “you and... I didn’t know you married?” 
“Not yet,” Walter exhales, “anyway, do you got someone available? I don’t really have time to sit around.” 
“Sure, sure, Pete should be able to help you out. I’ll just take you to an office.” 
The woman, Marska, comes around the desk and waves you down the hall. She takes you into an office and leaves you there. You and Walter lower yourself into the stiff chairs. He reaches between to offer his hand. You take it and nervously stare at the empty desk. 
There’s a tap on the doorframe and a man enters. Pete. You’ve seen him before when you came to the bank with your mother. 
“Morning,” he says as he swaggers around to sit behind the desk, “lovely to see you folks bright and early.” He offers his hand across the desk and Walter reluctantly lets go of yours to shake it. Pete looks at you and you hesitantly shake his hand. The man beside you shifts and huffs. “So, we’re looking into a mortgage, huh?” 
The manager smiles as he leans back nonchalantly in his chair. He looks between you and Walter, “gone and snagged yourself a young one, huh, Marshall?” 
Walter growls and crosses his arms, “I have a down payment.” 
“Uh, yeah, of course,” Pete rolls his chair closer to the desk, “just making some small chat. Big news, the two of you.” 
“Is it?” Walter challenges. 
“Marriage is a big deal, isn’t it?” Peter chuckles nervously. 
“You would know,” Walter sneers as he sniffs, “you got something on your cheek.” 
You only notice at the mention of it. Your eyes retreat from the window to Pete’s face, the smear of pink along his cheek. You look away, embarrassed for him. It must be true what they say about him and Marska. 
“Uh, thanks,” Pete wipes his face with his sleeve, “let’s just jump in then.” He puts his hands over the keyboard and clears his throat. You can see a trickle of sweat along his hairline as Walter’s disapproval burns through the small office.  
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holylulusworld · 7 months
Text
Big grumpy bear (3)
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Summary: He’s grumpy. You are sweet. A match made in heaven.
Pairing: Alpha!Walter Marshall x OmegaReader
Warnings: a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, grumpy alpha, scenting, fluff, mentions of injuries
Catch up here: Big grumpy bear (2)
Big grumpy bear masterlist
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You’re out of your mind. 
With a bag slung over your shoulder, a backpack on your back, and a basket full of groceries, you walk toward Walter’s house.
You’re not mad at him per se. It’s just that he got hurt and didn’t call you to ask you to take care of him, as he should.
You had to hear it from one of his colleagues. Rachel. His former lover, as you got to know a few months ago.
You’re fuming as you stand in front of his door and need to take deep breaths to get her stupid smirk out of your mind.
“I gotta take care of my alpha,” you cheer yourself up.
Walter is still a big grumpy bear, and always tells you he doesn’t like all the attention you give him. A lie, of course. In secret he loves that you take care of him, you’re sure about it.
Knocking at his door, you take another deep breath. Walter can say what he wants, but you’ll take care of him. He’s not going to stay alone while injured. 
“What?” Walter opens the door; he huffs and stares down at you, a gruff expression on his face. The alpha didn’t expect you to come to his home. “I got a few days off.”
“I know,” you tut. “I had to hear from Rachel that you got injured.” You walk around him to enter his house. “Come back inside. It’s cold, and raining. I need to check on your injuries. And I’ll cook for you.”
“Y/N…wait,” he closes the door, and follows you back inside, hot on your heels. “I can take care of myself.” Walter watches you place the basket on the kitchen counter before you drop the backpack next to your bag. “What’s all of this?”
“I had to bring a few things here, didn't I,” you smile softly as you unpack the basket. “I need clothes and toiletries while I take care of you. Now, sit on the couch, and I’ll be right there to check on you. I know how to nurse someone back to life.”
“I’m not sick,” he huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. You watch him wince as his ribs are undoubtedly broken. “You can go home. Thanks for the visit, though.”
“I didn’t ask, alpha,” you put your hands on your hips. “I want you to sit on the sofa and wait for me. I’ll take care of my alpha.”
“I’m not your alpha,” he tries again, but his heart beats a little faster when you grab your bag and follow him toward the living room. “Seriously, you don’t have to waste your time.”
“Walter, I’m not wasting my time here.” You place the bag next to him on the couch. “I need you to take off your sweater. Let me check on your injuries. I know you’ve got broken ribs and bruises.”
“How’d you find out?” He grunts. “Did you steal my medical file, or extort my doctor?”
“Don’t be silly,” you giggle, and pat his thigh. “I asked nicely, and they gave me the information because I was worried about my alpha.”
“I’m not…” he sighs deeply. Fighting with you is a lost cause. “Fine. If I let you check on my ribs, will you leave me alone?”
You give him a stern look. “I won’t leave you here all alone while you are hurt. I will take care of you. Now, let me help you get out of your sweater. You are in pain; I can see it.”
“I’m…” Walter gives in. You are already tugging at his sweater, and he simply lifts his arms to let you shove the sweater up his body. “Satisfied?” He asks when you drop the sweater to the ground.
“Oh no! You are black and blue,” you whine while running your fingertips through the soft curls on his chest. You’d enjoy touching the alpha, but he’s injured, and you don’t want to hurt him. “I got my first aid kit.”
“Y/N,” he wrinkles his forehead but allows you to carefully touch him. “The doctor checked on me. He gave me pain meds and told me what to do.”
“I don’t care. To make sure that you don’t strain yourself, I’ll stay here and take care of you. I will ice your ribs to help you with healing and pain relief.” You are unimpressed by his grumpy demeanor. “After I’m done with your ribs, I’ll start cooking. You will rest a bit and let me help you.”
“You won’t leave me alone, right?” Walter cocks a brow. He should know by now that you are determined to take care of him. He grumbles under his breath and watches you rummage in your bag. “Uh-what’s for dinner?”
You smile widely at his question. “I will make your favorite meal, alpha. After, we can watch a movie, or talk. Of course, you need to rest and take your pain meds. But I’ll take care of all of this. You don’t need to worry about a thing.”
Walter grins as you help him put his foot onto the couch. He watches you hover over him, and he can’t deny, having you around is nice…very nice…
Part 4
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shslbunnylover · 4 months
Note
hii!! i love your fics so much. i really wanted to request a christmas oneshot with melissa x reader. where they’re married and they decide to surprise each other gifts (the readers gift to mel is the lingerie set mel has been wanting to see in the reader).
(very spicy please with some fluff and smut)
★★★𝘼 𝙜𝙞𝙛𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚★★★
Character: Melissa Schemmenti
Summary: See ask above!
Requester: Anonymous
Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @lilfartbox1
Trigger warnings (DL, DI): Smut, Mommy kink, Praise, Degradation, Top Mel/Bottom reader, Dom/sun dynamics, Vaginal fingering (Reader receiving), Oral (Reader receiving), Clitoral stimulation (Reader receiving),
Genre: Smut
A/n: This was such an awesome ask! Absolutely loved this idea 🤭
Word count: 2.2k
...
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...
You sat on the couch with your wife, laying your head on her chest as her hands fondled your hair, her nails occasionally scratching softly at your scalp. The smell of her perfume clouded your nostrils, leaving your brain foggy with only thoughts of her inside of it.
The outside smells of cookies made and candles burned were nothing more than an afterthought when your body was engulfed in the scent of your wife,
"I still don't understand how nobody at the checkout mentioned a girlfriend, like at all," Melissa's laugh broke you out of your thoughts, her eyes rolling at the ridiculous scene playing on the TV in front of you two.
"That would have been an interesting conversation, because knowing Buddy, he would have said something like 'It's for my dad actually', you know? I wish they had added that in the movie," You replied, adjusting yourself so that your head lay on the redhead's shoulder.
"I wonder how awkward that would be to film though," Melissa thought, her soft and nimble fingers wrapping strands of your hair around themselves mindlessly as if it were natural to her. "But the bloopers must be even more fun to watch,"
As the scene where Walter Hobbs is opening the gift naively given by Buddy played on the TV screen, you looked up to see your wife licking her lips with a smirk before speaking.
"Say, I'd like to see you in that," She nudged you, causing you to laugh.
"I don't think I'd look good in it," You giggled, burying your face into her out of embarrassment and the thought of yourself in such an underwear set.
"Oh come on hon," Melissa rolled her head back, looking at you with raised eyebrows and an even fatter grin. "That body of yours would fit perfectly into it, and it'd match your face, all red like that,"
You stuck your tongue out at your wife, narrowing your eyes while a new idea found its way into your head. You looked back down at the screen to watch the rest of the movie, leaving you with a miniature smirk on your lips.
You spent the rest of that week trying to find the same lingerie set from the movie, hoping to get it in time for Christmas as a surprise for Melissa.
"Damn it, why is the evil Jeff Bezos website not working?" You groaned, putting your head in your hands, closing the computer, and placing your elbow on the cold steel shell of the device.
"What's wrong hon?" Your wife asked, opening the door to your shared bedroom, only to see you visibly frustrated.
"It's nothing, my love," You smiled, pulling her in for a soft kiss.
"Alright..." Melissa looked at you with a doubtful look, squeezing your shoulder before leaving to take a shower.
You sighed, looking out the window to admire the darkness of the night, smiling softly as you noticed a couple of snowflakes stick to the window before eventually melting from the warmth of the glass.
You thought hard for a moment before you felt a lightbulb go off in your head.
"Ava..."
"So, it's usually about 40 bucks off my shop, but because you're my employee and my best friend, it's half off," Ava smiled mischievously at the situation you were in.
"Thanks, Ava," You rolled your eyes, handing her the cash before grabbing the bag. "We will never talk about this, Amazon was down," You blushed.
"Will do, baby boo," The principal smirked, shooing you away to resume watching Love Island.
You shot your friend the middle finger, shutting the door to her office, and stuffing the bag inside your purse.
When Christmas morning finally arrived after what seemed like just a blink of an eye, a warm blanket of silence covered the house. It had been such a hectic morning of gifts and surprises that the silence felt good. The two of you sat side by side, taking in the moment and the ardency of one another. The fire brought a comfortable warmth around you, and a delicious breakfast made by your wife sat untouched on the table, as it was meant for later. All that mattered now was sharing the day together and enjoying the silence. No sounds of unwrapping or exclamations of surprise, just the calm air lingering between you two while you looked through the photo book Melissa had given you.
"So Princess, do you like it?" Melissa asked, watching as you held a soft photo book from your wedding.
"I love it so much Mel," You replied, tears brimming at your eyes as you flipped through each photo, laughing softly at the goofy ones.
"But, I still have one more gift to give you," You smiled, shooting her a wink and standing up to go to your bedroom to get changed into the surprise.
Your partner sat there while you got dressed, texting Barbara a thank you for the help with the photo book, unaware of the spicy surprise waiting for her.
You swiftly pulled the straps to the lingerie onto your shoulders, your fingers moving to graze softly on the fluffy edges of the fabric.
"You almost done in there, hon?" Melissa laughed at how long you were taking while she cleaned up the wrapping paper.
"Y-Yeah I'll be out in a second!" You replied, opening the door and stepping out into the hallway.
Your arms folded in front of your body as you walked behind Melissa, tapping her softly on the shoulder and watching her turn around swiftly.
"So, what-" The redhead was cut off by the sight of you in the lingerie.
Her mouth was hanging slightly open, all the moisture in there going straight to her core.
The lingerie sat tightly against your body, showing off every inch of your figure. A warm red fabric with white trimming covered the top part of the outfit, clinging to your curves and framing your breasts beautifully. You paired the underwear with a pair of white fishnets and red lipstick, as you knew Melissa loved when you wore that shade of red.
"Oh...Jesus Christ Hon," Melissa gasped, walking up to you and cupping your breast with her hand and your chin with the other. "You look delicious," She practically groaned, pinching your nipple tightly to elect a whimper from you.
"F-Fuck-" You let your head fall onto her clavicle, biting your lip almost as roughly as your wife was being with your tits.
Her palm fell from your chin, pushing you back from her embrace to get the perfect view. Her soft and gentle fingers trailed over your exposed skin, your flesh raising once the tips finally left the area.
"I can't believe this is all mine, these tits, this face, everything about you," Your wife spoke in a husky tone, moving her lips to your neck, leaving soft blue marks on your otherwise [skin color] skin.
"P-Please Mel-" You pleaded, the pain causing the heat in your core to bubble up.
"Ah ah ah-" She tutted, pinching your nub tighter. "What do you call me?"
"Mommy..." You corrected yourself, pressing your body against her, moving your hips so your clit rubbed up against her thigh.
The older woman quickly and harshly swatted your button, watching with a grin as you shivered from the sudden sting.
"Good girl..." The redhead chuckled. "Now, I'm gonna take full advantage of this Christmas present," She spoke, grabbing you and dragging you upstairs.
When she finally made her way to your bedroom, she pushed you onto the bed with a simple flick of her hand, her green eyes watching how your tits bounced as your back hit the mattress like a predator stalking its prey before going to devour it.
"Please do mommy, I got this just for you," You breathed out, spreading your thighs apart to reveal your soaked cunt.
The redhead's emerald eyes widened, and an amused expression made its way onto her facial features.
"Fuck...now this is the bow on top," Melissa licked her lips, wasting no time and immediately burying her face in you, her tongue working wonders as it plunged in and out of you, only pausing to k the tips of her fingers.
Her digits swiftly went to rub on your clit, moving in circles that shot chills up your spine.
Your body was engulfed in a deep warm feeling that started from within and spread out to the rest of your body. Your brain clouded with nothing but a feeling of intense pleasure, relaxation, and even ecstasy as you cried out her name.
"Yeah princess, taste so good," Your wife hummed into your sensitive pussy, the soft vibrations adding to the waves of pleasure pulsating throughout your body
You can feel yourself breathing heavily and panting as your body began to tremble with pleasure.
"Mommy, I-I...Oh God!" You cried, your legs shaking violently from the stimulation on your sensitive button.
Your hand dug into her hair, your thighs clenching around the sides of her head.
Her tongue flicked around your folds, the sweet taste of your release settling on her tastebuds as she savored each lick she gave to your sensitive pussy. Her green eyes rolled back into her head, internally questioning how someone could taste as addicting and as delicious as you did.
But she wasn't done with you. She wanted to hold off your release for as long as possible like always. She was always such a tease, and with your new outfit, the redhead only wanted to watch your body squirm around even more than usual.
"Such a fucking whore," Melissa sighed, removing her mouth from your pussy to your dismay, releasing a laugh from her pretty pink lips when you let out a pleading moan.
The redhead ran her hand through her hair, licking her lips clean of your juices before running her hands up and down your body, squeezing at your breasts to elect more of your delicious sounds for her to relish in.
"Please, Mommy, don't tease!" You whimpered, rubbing your thighs for any sense of relief from the ache between your legs.
Melissa didn't respond to your whines and pleas, only spreading your legs with her strong hands.
"Surprising me with lingerie, knowing I'd fuck your brains out," She growled, bending down to kiss your neck, nibbling at your earlobe before plunging three of her fingers inside your tight hole.
Your toes curled tightly and your back arched, your hands that were gripping at the sheets the only thing keeping you from going completely off the edge.
"Oh f-fuck!" You choked out, your voice turning into a mixture of whimpers and cries as your wife's slender fingers rubbed up against your walls, collecting a white ring at the bottom that increased in visibility the more she pumped in and out of your tight walls.
"Yeah, such a good girl, taking my fingers with your pretty pussy," Melissa muttered, trailing her mouth down your figure before finally attaching her lips to your puffy clit, giving you the much-needed relief.
"Ahh~!! God! I'm going to come! Going to come!" You practically sobbed, your eyes rolling back into your head, the feeling of the redhead sucking on your sensitive nub too much for you to handle.
Just because of her fingers' movements, carefully perfected after years of being your partner, your body immediately became nothing more than a malleable and shaking sex puddle.
"God damn it, you're so easy hon," Your wife smirked, her expression predatory and seductive as she edged you on, her thrusts increasing in speed before slowing down whenever you were about to finish.
"Only for you- Please- Mommy, I need to come!" You cried out, wrapping your hands around Melissa's biceps for more connection to her, your fingernails leaving soft crescent moon indents in her milky skin.
"Then do it baby, make a mess on my fingers and my face," Melissa purred, giving your clit tiny little kitten licks with her agile tongue.
"Fu-Fuck-!! Mommy~!!" You screamed, your back relaxing as the relaxation from your release took over your body, a soft 'oomph' coming from the mattress once your body fully hit the soft plush.
You laid there, your eyes hooded and legs shaking, watching as Melissa sat down next to you, pulling you onto her lap.
"That- Holy shit..." You muttered, unable to say anything else due to the fogginess inside of your head.
The redhead opened your mouth, pushing one of her soaked digits inside, allowing you to clean it whilst tasting yourself.
"I think that was my favorite gift this year," She winked suggestively, pulling out of your mouth.
"I'm glad," You laughed, your head clearing up from how dumb-fucked you were. "Merry Christmas, my love,"
"Merry Christmas Amore," Melissa smiled, stroking away the hair that clung to your forehead. "Why don't we go get that breakfast I made? I don't want it getting cold after all,"
"Good idea," You agreed, attempting to stand up, only for your wife to sweep you off your feet and into her arms.
"I think you need to give these things a little rest," She teased, squeezing your thigh softly before making her way down the stairs.
...
If you enjoyed reading this, don't forget to like, reblog and comment! Thank you and you are loved <3
-Akira
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