Oblivious. (m)

satisfaction

♡ a/n: i couldn't answer the request directly but here it is-- and you guys know i love harry but yk... smut <3

♡ pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

♡ 1: do you think of me when you touch yourself?

♡ 24: has he ever touched you like this?

♡ 26: were you masturbating?

harry potter was one of the kindest people you'd ever met. the way he treated you was like royalty and you truly did think he deserved the world-- but you couldn't bring yourself to love him. every time you had sex with harry, you shamefully thought about draco malfoy instead. you were one of the many girls infatuated with the slytherin prince but what good reason could you have to throw away a good relationship over a fantasy? none. and that's what you told yourself every time you found yourself thinking of him-- the latest being tonight. a potion gone wrong in class by none other than draco malfoy had prompted you to skip out on dinner to take a shower and get the melted mystical ingredients out of your hair. you made yourself presentable as you were going to meet harry afterwards but sat on your bed and thought about draco again. his grey eyes had widened when his potion spat at you and he apologised. that's right, apologised. it's basic human decency yet all you could fucking think about was letting him pin you down and ruin you. looking at the time, you gave in and laid back and trailed your fingers between your legs, underneath your skirt. you circled yourself, about to touch yourself to the wrong person when the door flew open and you screamed.

draco was standing in your doorway, blushing heavily and his eyes darted to your hand, making you yell and throw a pillow at him. "turn around you bloody git!" you cried. "i just came to see if you were alright after our potions mishap!" he laughed. this was humiliating, why the hell was he laughing? "were you masturbating?" "no!" he raised a blond eyebrow as if he didn't believe you. "well i was about to before you so rudely interrupted." you huffed, cheeks burning. draco closed the door before stepping towards you and your breath hitched visibly. "potter doesn't satisfy you then?" he smirked, gazing down at you. "excuse me?" offended, you scoffed. "i mean, if he did you wouldn't be in your dorm touching yourself instead of meeting him." his fingertips brushed over your waist and he kept going carefully. "and you wouldn't spend your class time staring at the person he hates most." fuck. he had you. "draco," you warned-- against what? you couldn't say. "tell me love, do you think of me when you touch yourself?" the bastard knew the answer just as you knew you were dangerously close to doing one of the worst things you could. "shut up malfoy." you whispered without a hint of sincerity. "the real thing would be better y/n. aren't you the least bit," he licked his lips slowly, knowing damn well what he was doing to you. "curious?" of course you were. he laughed warmly at your silence and his hot breath hit your face. gods. closing the gap between you two, your lips crashed against his.

teeth grazed over each other and draco immediately set on exploring your mouth with his tongue, which you let him do happily. he shoved you against the wall and attached his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking at your skin roughly. harry was thrown from your mind and you were purely concentrated on draco's wet mouth on your skin. unbuttoning your top, he slid a finger underneath you bra and fondled you while rubbing through the fabric of your panties. a gasp left you, helping that awful smirk of his grow. you moaned when his finger slid into your entrance and pumped into you. quick paced and thrusting into you with heavy desire, draco kissed you again-- sloppily but filled with adoration. "always bloody knew you should be with me and not him," he growled, fingers fucking you harder. "you're mine-- and so is your dirty little cunt." you nodded, shaking from his motions and moaned breathily. "has he ever touched you like this?"you shook your head and groaned. "never draco." not even when harry was inches inside of your pussy had you felt this fucking good. he lifted your chin, thumping your head on the wall, and pressed another kiss to your neck. release came over you and your orgasm swam on draco's hand. his movements slowed and he helped you finish.

gasping and panting, you settled as he took his fingers out of you. he sucked the glistening juices off of his fingers and grabbed you by the waist. "you'll go meet potter now," he commanded and you nodded, eager to comply. "from now on, you're being fucked and loved the way you deserve." for once since you'd started seeing the boy you couldn't love, you felt true satisfaction.

Hate Or Love-Mark Tuan(M)

Request: Mark smut where he’s in a arranged marriage where he hates the girl ,but angry sex turns to love. Speedy I don’t think I can stop😂 too many ideas

Words: 2,530

You could feel him glaring at you from across the room once again. You wanted to be mad at him. But, you were more confused than anything. You hadn’t said much to him before the two of you got married; you didn’t know much about him. You hadn’t even seen him before your parents introduced you to the one you would be married to. From the moment you had met Mark, he always had this look of complete loathing whenever he saw you. You hadn’t even done anything. The first time you met him, he stared daggers through you.

It wasn’t unusual for people to have arranged marriages, but from the looks of it, neither one of you wanted this one. You didn’t hate him. You could just tell there was no way in hell this marriage was going to work. People kept telling you to give him a chance, but how could you when he wouldn’t even talk to you? Wouldn’t breathe in your direction? It was hard; you’d never been hated by anyone before. Especially for no reason. You crossed your legs on the couch, the material rubbing along your smooth skin as you moved.

Keep reading

hi omg i love your writing. could you please write a jackson jealous shower sex omg thank you ily

You’re Mine

You and Jackson weren’t dating, but you were however, fucking. Only on occasion though.

He didn’t have some type of claim on you, you were free to see people if you so choose to do. And you did. You were tired of only being a good lay. You wanted more.

So when Jinyoung started taking an interest in you, you were all for it. He was cute, and nice and funny. You liked him. Jackson did not like that.

He came home one day to see the two of you, on the couch laughing. Rage filled his entire body. He wanted you. No, he needed you and Jinyoung couldn’t have you.

He went and got a drink from the kitchen, some cold, gross coffee. Walking back out to the living room, he pretended to trip and dumped the coffee all over your head.

“What the fuck” you yelled.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry” he said. “Why don’t you go take a shower” he offered.

Grumbling you accepted. Fucking shit head.

You stripped off your clothes, and got into the shower, the hot water hitting your skin felt nice.

A few minutes later, the shower curtain opened and in came a naked Jackson, pushing you against the walk.

“I don’t like you talking to Jinyoung” he says, eyeing up your body.

“Jinyoung doesn’t just want to fuck me” you spit. He looks shocked.

“Neither do I, I want to be with you” he yells, slamming his hand against the wall behind you. “He would never be able to touch you like I can, make you feel like I can, make you cum like I can” he whispers in your ear, placing kisses down your neck. His fingers roaming from your sides, moving from your side to your lips, opening them up and stroking you.

“Don’t flirt with him again, you’re mine” he says pulling his hands away.

“Bend over baby” he whispers, slapping your ass.

Yes, you were his.

Daddy Dieter {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 23.1k

Warnings: Drug use, pregnancy mention, surrogacy talk, oral sex (female receiving), sex toys, unprotected sex, cream pie, pregnancy angst, doctors, breast play, talk of anal play, oral sex (male receiving), lactation kink, cum play, food cravings, angst, Dieter being Dieter, labor, childbirth. 

Comments: Your boss, Dieter Bravo is the embodiment of an adult child. You are shocked when he decides on day that he wants a baby. Even more shocked when he wants you to be his surrogate and have it for him. 

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says ’creator chooses not to use warnings’. You also agree that you’re the right age to be consuming anything here.

“I’ve decided I want a baby.” Dieter announces this just as easily as he’s decided to get a puppy. In his mind there’s not a whole hell of a lot of difference between the two. Both are small, need to be fed and will shit everywhere, both would love him unconditionally. He’s thought about it longer than anything else he’s decided in his life, almost two days. That article with Sandra Bullock about her kids making him yearn and wonder if it was ever going to happen for him. He wasn’t getting any younger and like most things he wanted, he wanted it now. 

Your eyes widen, shocked and in disbelief, until you burst out laughing. Dieter looks offended which makes you laugh even more. The man can barely remember to shower without you telling him he has to, how the fuck is he going to look after a baby?!? “You’re joking, right?” You ask him, raising your eyebrows. 

He pouts, looking at you with annoyance. “Why would I be joking?” He asks, tilting his head, “I’m perfectly capable of being a daddy.” 

Keep reading

GOT7 Mafia Reaction: When their fiancee runs away

||| @tory-ah asked: Can you please do a GOT7 version of you their fiancé running away? |||

Jackson Wang

He set off to look for you himself. He had a lot of connections around the city and it didn’t take him long until somebody told him your location. He practically burst into the cafe you were staying at and came up to you in quick steps.

“Y/N!” he said, trying to catch his breath. You could tell he was in a hurry to get here. 

“Jackson,” you started. “I’m tired of running,” you sighed. “Let’s just… Let’s just end this. There is plenty of fish in the sea. You will find someone else and-”

He slammed his fist on the table, startling you.

“No! I don’t care what you say but I don’t need anything but you, understand? (bonus points for you if you get the reference 😂) So you either come back on your own or I will just bring you back by force.”

Choi Youngjae

“Again?” he asked, staring at you. It’s been two months since he told you the truth about his job and ever since then you tried to escape exactly 8 times, all of which ended in failure. It’s not like you didn’t try something else but he didn’t want to break up with you and so you were left with no other option but to try and leave.

“I really don’t know why you keep doing this to me? Nothing has changed, has it? You just know more about what I do…”

That’s true but the fact that he has another side to him frightened you and you wished you never had to see it.

“Now,” he spoke again, his voice strict. “Stop causing me trouble or we will need to take some drastic measures again.”

Mark Tuan

You were about to step onto the train when strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you away. You didn’t even need to look back to see who it was, the grip which quickly turned into a warm embrace was all to familiar. 

“Mark, I…” you began.

He hushed you and started planting kisses on your bare shoulder, going up to your ear.

“Baby,” he whispered. “I got the whole city under control. What were you thinking?” he asked, sending shivers down your spine. You could feel the anger in his voice. “I’m sorry but now that we’re engaged there is no place for you to hide.”

Park Jinyoung

One week. That’s all it took for him to find you. You watched him enter the room, he said something to the guards and you two were quickly left alone. He came up to the table and took a seat in front off you.

“Y/N, look at me,” he said but you didn’t listen. “Why?” he asked again after a short silence.

“Why?” you chuckled, finally looking at him. “Are you seriously asking me that?! You never told me about your so called real job! I can’t-” you stopped when your eyes met his.

“Tell me.”

“I can’t be with a dangerous man as you,” you said, turning your gaze away. 

He tapped his fingers on the table, deep in thought. 

“Babe, there is no way I will let you go this easily,” he finally said, standing up. “We’re getting married and that’s final.”

JB/Im Jaebum

You unlocked the door to your new apartment and threw the bags down on the floor. You went to the bedroom and turned the lights on.

“Hello Y/N,” somebody spoke from the couch. “I have been waiting for you.”

“Jaebum?!” you stuttered. “H-how did you find me?”

He looked at you with that ‘really?’ expression on his face. He leaned his head on his arm, checking you out.

“You cut your hair? Were you that desperate to avoid me? You know, you could have just told me if you didn’t want to get married anymore.”

“Alright,” you said, standing in front of him. “Jaebum, I don’t-”

“Aaand no,” he said, scooping you up from the ground.

“Jae! Put me down!” you struggled in his grip.

“That’s also a no,” he continued, throwing you over his shoulder. “We’re going home. Then we will talk.”

BamBam

“What is it?” he asked his men, annoyed that they called him out from an important meeting.

“It’s Y/N,” one of the men said. “We lost her, sir.”

“You lost her?!” he shouted. “How can you lose a grown up woman? She’s not a child!”

“We’re sorry but she outsmarted us and-”

“Shut up,” he interrupted them. “How long has she been missing?”

“Two hours.”

“Two hours?! Then what the hell are you doing here? Go find her!” he ordered. “I don’t care what it takes. Bring her home tonight!”

Kim Yugyeom

You had everything planned. You knew he will come back home later today, so you decided to use this opportunity to run away. But it seems even walls have ears in this city.

You took your suitcase and were about to head out when he walked in through the front door.

“Going somewhere?” he asked tauntingly, throwing his keys on the nearby dresser. “Did you really think it will be that easy?”

“Yugy… I can explain…” you said, setting the suitcase aside.

“Sorry baby but you’re not leaving me,” he said, taking a step towards you with every word. “Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever,” he finished, cornering you between the wall and his body. He leaned in so close you could feel his breath on your skin. “You’re mine, don’t you ever forget that,” he whispered.

A/N: Haven’t written for Got7 in a very long time. Makes me kind of sad tbh. I should be more active 😕

— crime of passion.

request: “Hi! May I request having passionate sex with angel!Johnny 🥺”

word count: 0.476k

warnings: smut, fluff, angel!johnny au

a/n: this isn’t super smutty i know i’m sorry it’s a bit different from your request but i couldn’t help but make this one soft and passion ridden with not just sex but love. i hope you enjoy it regardless!! <3

Angel!Johnny watched over you every night; he was your guardian. Soon after he was assigned to guide you he was falling in love with you, to the point where he was ready to expose himself. And when he did you were surprisingly calm, happy even, that there was someone, or something, out there looking out for your well-being.

He loved you deeply. You fell in love with him as well.

He especially loved the way your thighs felt in his hands when he was in his human form, the way they melted at his touch. You enticed him the way no other human had, or ever will. He loved the way you spoke his name when he was inside of you, making love to you with such passion it could make you cry.

“I love you so much.”

The first time he said it you both cried. How could an angel love a human? It was a crime against nature, some would say. They were not meant to be together.

“I love you too.”

But then you said it back, and it was like every missing piece of each other’s lives fell together, filling in for what was broken. You mended each other. He may be your guardian, but to him, you were the angel.

The cries you let out when he was buried deep, hitting your sweet spot so nicely, whispering sweet nothings in your ear of how beautiful you were, how much he loved you, were music to his ears. And the noises he made when you put his member in your mouth, and bobbed your head up and down at just the right pace, were like a symphony to yours.

Crime against nature? Not so much. But a crime of passion, yes, you supposed that’s what you could call it.

The nights you slept with him, his arms wrapped around you, were your favorite. Though he didn’t sleep, he lied awake for hours, keeping track of your breaths while he grazed your hair. The nights where he felt you were having a nightmare, so he would place his hand on your head, and take the fear away. The nights where you were sick and couldn’t sleep, so he made you some warm tea and showed you some of your favorite past memories.

It was not just lust he was after. Though he was to guide your heart without bias, he couldn’t help but point it in the direction of himself.

The Jake Problem - Part 2 (Jake Lockley x f!reader smut) 18+

Summary: There’s a lot of good ways to tell someone you love them for the first time… and then there’s whatever Jake Lockley is doing. (A sequel to the Jake Problem Part 1, but could be a stand alone too.)

Fluff, smut, angst??

Pairing: Jake Lockley x f!reader, hints of Marc Spector x f!reader x Steven Grant

Warnings: Mentions of abusive relationships, reader was in an abusive relationship, smut (18+ only), fingering, unprotected p in v (use protection), standard Jake Lockley warnings, marking (???), DID, Google translate Spanish, Jake’s not as kinky as he is in some fics, love that Jake but my version is a little softer, is this in character? idk

A/N: I’m so nervous. The pressure to write a sequel to something you guys love so much is unreal, but I’m so glad you enjoyed it! I haven’t written much smut before, so I’m genuinely unsure of how this turned out. But I want to give it a try, and still include my usual cuddly softness and some plot. If it flops, I’m deleting this and pretending it never existed. Second, I don’t speak Spanish at all, so this is Google translate Spanish though I did do some research to hopefully add some authenticity.

—–

The thought comes to him as he watches you wander the flat one morning in nothing, literally nothing, but one of his button down shirts. Jake loves you. In the few weeks since what he, Marc, and Steven had deemed the pizza incident, Jake had fallen completely and desperately in love with you. Your notes got tucked into his visor each morning. He eats any food you make him. Once he even made a sorry attempt at cooking for you, much to Marc’s amusement.

But he hadn’t told you he loved you, hadn’t even admitted it to himself really. Not until today.

Keep reading

tattooed heart | biker!austin butler x reader

summary: austin is the club president of a local outlaw biker gang- a one percenter. he lies, he kills and he doesn't apologize for it. he was one weakness- you. when he gets a distressed late night call from you he's quick to come to your rescue. the only problem? your own father was in the same motorcycle club that austin now runs, and after his death you cut all contact. when you two see each other again emotions run high and things get. . . a little out of control.

pairings: biker!austin butler x reader

word count: 12,074

warnings/notes: SMUT! violence, brief mention of dv (your ex), cursing, spitting, choking, blood play, unprotected sex, creampie, austin is obsessed with you, but what’s new? this one is wild and i might have to make it a series if ya'll like it enough, so feedback would be awesome.

masterlist

“That’s why you’re the treasurer, Marcus. You don’t run jack shit around here. You crunch the numbers, give them to me, and that’s what I go off of. That’s the definition of your job around here.” Austin sat up a little straighter in his leather work chair, jabbing his finger into the desk hard enough to rattle it as he spoke. “I don’t need you getting all high and mighty, trying to take charge of things. Xavier let all of you fuckers do whatever the hell you wanted while I was locked up, but I’m back now, so things are going back to the way they were.” All Austin wanted to do was go home and shower. It was nearly one in the morning, and he had barely gotten a wink of sleep over the last three days. The blonde had expected the Vice President to keep up with all of the prospects, club funds, and the general upkeep of the building as well as it’s members. It wasn’t too much to ask, right? Not when you were getting paid handsomely for it. Austin continued to run the more illegal practices himself while he rotted away in prison for two years, not trusting anyone else to do it. This- the mess on his desk- was the exact reason why he didn’t trust anyone. 

Marcus swallowed thickly, watching his boss nervously, as though he was a ticking time-bomb just waiting to go off. And maybe Austin was. He felt like it was only a matter of time before he absolutely flipped shit and destroyed either something or someone. No one had been keeping up with anything while he was gone. Austin had continued flowing money into this place, while all they did with it was buy booze, women, and lord knows what else. The building was an absolute wreck. There were holes in the walls, half of the toilets in the entire building no longer worked, and to make matters worse an enemy Club had broken into their garage two months ago and had stolen three of Austin’s classic bikes while he was still away. No one had the balls to call him up and tell him. 

What a nice fucking welcome home present. 

“If I come back here tomorrow and these papers aren’t dated and filed when I get back? I’ll have your fucking head,” He stood up roughly, leaning forward so that he could get right in Marcus’s face. “Are we clear?” His voice was eerily calm, using the same tone that he would when speaking to a child. The middle aged bald man hurriedly nodded, fumbling forward so that he could start scooping up the mass of papers. Austin kicked the leather chair he had just stood up from, hearing it clatter into the wall roughly behind him. “And fucking fix whatever the hell I just broke.” He muttered before walking out his office door. A few members were still hanging around, laughing amongst themselves as they sat around a poker table talking. The dumb assholes had the audacity to have their feet kicked up on the table, drinking Jack Daniel’s and shooting the shit as though they hadn’t absolutely destroyed the place. Austin’s eye twitched as he walked behind the bar, grabbing a fresh pack of Marlboros before sauntering over towards them. “What’s so funny guys?” They froze as they heard their President’s voice, all looking up at him with fearful, glassy eyes. “No, don’t quiet down now. I want to know what’s so fucking funny.” Austin had been out of prison for all of three days. The first two days he had tried to readjust to normal life, and today he was expecting to come back to the club, maybe fix a few things that were out of place, and then go about business as usual. 

He could barely sleep in his bed, now completely unused to a regular mattress, which had made it nearly impossible to keep his already ridiculous anger issues under control. Not only that, but he no longer had a bitch-boy bunkie to boss around and wannabe gangsters to treat as punching bags whenever he needed to let off some steam. Then he comes back to this? He was shaking, his sharp jawline ticking as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. He could barely resist the urge to bash the new member’s face into the table until the fuck stopped twitching. 

“You know what. . .” Austin grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He began wagging pointer finger at the group, all of them already shifting in their seats as they waited for the shit show that was bound to start any second. “I think I know what’s funny.” Austin grabbed an empty bottle of whiskey, lazily dragging it across the table before gripping it in his large hand. He stared down at the label for a few seconds, taking a steadying breath in through his nose before he finally looked back at the table. They flinched away from his heated gaze, the older member’s beginning to cower as they recognized the murderous intent in his eyes. “It’s how fucking disgusting this place is!” He reared back and tossed the glass against the wall behind them, the thing hitting the wooden surface so hard that it practically turned to dust. They all covered their heads, pushing their way out of their seats in an attempt to get away. “If you boys want to stay here and drink for the rest of the night, then by all means. Do it. But clean this place up first!” He stalked across the club, slamming the front door closed so hard that it shook the hinges, before straddling his Harley. 

The long drive home did wonders for his mood, but riding always did that for him. The cold air forced his hair off of his forehead and felt good against his hot face. Austin used the time that it took him to get from the club to his house to think. 

He never used to be the type of person to overthink. If something upset him, he’d try his damndest to push it from his mind completely. If the unwanted thought ever bubbled back up to the surface, he’d punch something and move on with his day. He didn’t like wasting time worrying about things that were out of his control. 

But he liked to worry about you. 

In the thirty minutes that it had taken for him to get home, somehow his mind had landed on the subject of. . . well. . . you. He wondered where you were, how you were doing, and for a second he worried about whether or not you had learned to hate him over time. Austin knew that he wasn’t a very well liked person, and for good reason. People either feared him or were taught to. It was how he had functioned his entire life. How he had been raised. Lying, stealing, and killing were just a way of life for him. A means to an end, really. He had learned it from his father, and his father had learned it from his. 

Austin came from a long line of outlaws. They did whatever the fuck they wanted and never apologized for it. You join the Club knowing that there is a possibility that you might not make it out alive. Only the strong survive, and Austin had been bred to be mean because of it. Your father had been the same way. The two of your parents had grown up together, and had both been the leaders of the very same Club that Austin now ran. 

You had been raised up right alongside him, and to say that he didn’t have a soft spot for you would be a damn lie. Austin had one weakness, and that was you. He hated feeling vulnerable. He absolutely couldn’t stand it, but he never could shake you, no matter how hard he had tried growing up. You had hollowed out his bones, and sunk deep deep deep into his marrow. You were just as much a part of him as his own flesh and blood. 

You weren’t cut out for the life that you had been born into though. All that senseless killing always got to you. It got to you bad. This wasn’t what you would have chosen for yourself- The One Percenters. You were tired of keeping your distance from people on the outside, too afraid to get them caught up in all the wrong things. You wanted a normal life. You had wanted to get out. Once you're in the club though, even if you’re born into it, it’s hard to leave. Your father had been the Vice President, meaning you had heard just about all of the comings and goings of the Clubs activities. Having you out of sight was a liability. Austin didn’t know what it meant to live a normal life, but he could understand the attachment you had to the idea. He could imagine that sort of life for himself too, but only if you were involved. There was no point if you weren’t. 

Loving you was the only good thing Austin had ever done in his life. 

Whenever your father died, he knew what would happen. He knew that the door to your cage had been busted wide open, and it was only natural for you to want to fly out. He didn’t harbor any anger towards you for it. It was the way that you had chosen to go about it that upset him so much. 

He wished you would have at least left a note. 

If you were going to disappear, then that meant that you had to disappear for good. That meant that Austin, who was next in line to take his father’s place, had to go. No call, no text, and no warning. He hadn’t even gotten a proper goodbye. One second he was holding your sobbing form at the funeral, and the next second you were gone. It was almost like your old life meant nothing to you at all. Like Austin meant nothing at all. It had crushed him. Totally and utterly devastated him. It was the kind of hurt that you never got over, no matter how many years passed. Time didn’t heal all wounds. You had taken a big piece of him with you, and it was a part of him that couldn’t heal over; couldn’t be replaced. 

Weeks went by. Then months. Then years. He didn’t know if you had moved out of state. He didn’t even know if you were alive. That was the part that kept him thinking. Kept him worried. The thought of you being hurt haunted his nightmares, and caused him to wake up the next morning teary eyed and shaky. He couldn’t protect you if he didn’t know where you were. He couldn’t keep you safe like he had when you were younger. Austin had spent nearly every day with you for twenty- two years. Trying to live without you was like learning how to walk again after losing a leg. It just. . . it was never the same. A day didn’t go by that he didn’t think about you. Austin stayed true to your wishes though, even in his own grief. He didn’t look for you, and if anyone asked him if he knew where you were he’d merely say that you were off studying abroad. He’d lied about having tabs on you. 

So here he was five years later, still thinking about a girl that couldn’t care less about him. Austin didn’t have the ability to open up his heart anymore than he already had. It just wasn’t big enough. Every fiber- every inch: you owned it. You had him in the palm of your hand, and that’s where he’s always stayed. 

Becoming the Club President was the only thing he really could do, unless he wanted to incur his father’s wrath. So he maimed and he killed and he schemed his way to the top. 

But Icarus had flown to the sun on wax wings, and even he had eventually fallen. 

The murders continued to pile up, and no matter how careful he had been with everything, eventually he too had fallen from grace. Prison wasn’t too bad, not when you had seen and done the things that Austin had throughout his entire life. The first thing he had done was pick a fight with the biggest fucker in the place, and no one had messed with him after he had been sent back from The Hole. Sure, some of the men locked up in there were bigger than Austin was, but he didn’t need a shank to be tough. Austin was a mean motherfucker, and he wasn’t opposed to killing with his bare hands. He wasn’t afraid to get messy. He had spent two years like that, holed up in his room with people avoiding him like he was the plague. People who knew who he was began to talk, and the word quickly got out. He didn’t need to click up. Nobody approached him. 

He thought about you a lot while he was locked up. There was no way to escape those thoughts or numb the pain that they brought with them. No, instead he took the brunt of it all. He thought about all of the things he had said to you over the years that he had come to regret. The worst part were the things that he never did get the nerve to actually tell you. He wished that he had told you that he loved you, even just once. Even if you didn’t return the sentiment, then he could have at least gotten the chance to say that he had tried. He thought about what his life could have been like if he hadn’t followed his father’s lead. If you had stayed and had given him a reason to change, maybe then he wouldn’t be in these fucked up situations. 

Because the shittiest part is that Austin would have liked the opportunity to have lived a normal life with you. A life where he didn’t have to kill just to survive. A life that he could have actually been proud of. Sure, the money was great, but it wasn’t worth it. He would have been happy living in a boring suburban neighborhood in a boring little town, and driving a boring family car. He would have found a way to make it all work out. He could have given that all to you. He should have given that all to you. 

But life never turns out the way that you want it to. So he stewed in all that regret while he rotted away in prison. He had been told that he could very well spend the rest of his life there. People from enemy Clubs had heard about him being locked up, and took it as an opportunity to snitch. They rattled off name after name of people that had gone “missing”, stating that he was to blame. 

And he was. 

His lawyer had called him on a Thursday morning and told him that some mistakes had been made with his booking papers, and a lot of the witnesses were suddenly taking back their statements. The trial didn’t have a leg to stand on after that. Austin, after only two years, was a free man. 

But he didn’t feel free. Not really, at least. 

So when he got back to his house after the shit show with the Club, he had stalked right up the stairs and shut himself away in his room. The shower that he took was quick, purely habit as he scrubbed his body as quickly as he could. He barely even took the time to dry himself off, tossing his towel onto the floor next to the clothes hamper, and climbing straight into bed. Austin had rolled himself up in his old duvet and melted into his pillows, and for the first night in almost a week he actually fell asleep. He was a light sleeper though, so the second his phone started ringing he was up, wide eyed and reaching for the gun that he kept tucked in his bed frame. After his heart had stopped pounding from the initial panic, he picked up. “Hello?” He grumbled, rubbing his sleepy eyes roughly with the palm of his hand while he tried desperately to wake himself up. His members knew better than to wake him up this early over something that wasn’t an emergency. “This better be good. What fuckin’ time is it?” He squinted his eyes as he turned his head to look at the bedside table, trying hard to get the blurriness out of his vision as he focused on the digital numbers of his clock: 3:24. He hadn’t even been asleep for two hours. His lips parted, ready to lay into the person on the other line. Then he heard it. 

“Aus?” 

Your voice. It was your voice. 

The second that the sound of it reached his ears, he nearly doubled over. Austin had heard once before that a person’s voice is the first thing that you forget about a person as time goes on. For the first year he had been terrified that he might forget the gorgeous, unrestrained sound of your laughter or the lilting, melodic pitch to your voice. He had replayed memories over again and again in his head, hoping to hang on to the exact way you sounded, but over time he must have gotten it wrong. Your voice was far more beautiful than he remembered. 

He sat up in bed, quick to push the comforter off of himself so that he could get up. He couldn’t think of a single good reason why would be calling him after five years, and so late into the night. No matter how beautiful your voice was, he could hear the panic in your tone. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. His heart had flown into his throat, and he found it hard to walk as he stumbled around his room in the dark, trying to find a pair of pants. He didn’t know why, but he felt like he had to get to you right away. Everything would be alright if he could just see you. Touch you. He could hear you sniffling softly, tears in your voice as you softly said his name again, almost too quiet for him to hear. It felt like he was breaking. His hands shook as he struggled to pull his shirt over his head, quickly pressing the phone back up to his ear when he heard something loud echoing on the other end. “Talk to me, baby.” He murmured, opening the door to his bedroom so that he could take the stairs two at a time, rushing to grab his motorcycle boots that he had by the front door. “I need you to come get me.” You were whispering into the phone, trying to keep as quiet as possible. 

So you must not be alone. He held the phone against his ear with his shoulder as he tied his boots up, rushing to double knot them before grabbing his keys and wallet. “I-It’s bad.” That was too vague, and he was beginning to spiral into a panic. He was used to making sure that things went smoothly. Austin was an insanely capable person- but he felt helpless. “What’s bad?” He locked the door behind himself before jogging to the back of his house so that he could grab his bike out of the garage. He could hear your distress. “Y/n, please.” He begged after the sound of your sniffles began to get too much for him. His heart couldn’t take it. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. He couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t breathe now that he knew you were in possible danger. You didn’t answer him, and for a second he was afraid that you had hung up. He pulled the phone away from his cheek, letting out a breath of relief when he saw that the call was still active. “Alright, tell me where you are at least. I’m coming, okay?” You whispered an unfamiliar address to him, and he was quick to type it into his GPS. 

He nearly died when he saw the estimated arrival time. Nearly bent over and puked all over his beat up old boots. You had been right under his nose the entire time. Twenty seven minutes. He had been twenty seven minutes from you this entire goddamn time. “Stay where you are, alright? I’m coming to get you.” He didn’t hang up the phone, merely shoved it into his back pocket. He had a feeling that if he hung the phone up, he might never hear from you again. He had already lost you one time, he couldn’t do it again. Not after hearing the fear in your voice. 

Austin couldn’t remember a time that he had ever driven that fast before. If a cop had seen him, they didn’t even bother turning their lights on and trying to pursue. He was like a bullet being shot into the dark. Gone in a flash. He almost felt bad for your neighbors when he pulled into your driveway. He was quick to move his foot against the kickstand, swinging his long leg over the bike so that he could slowly begin approaching the house. All the blinds seemed to be closed, so he couldn’t see if there were any lights on inside. He dug into his back pocket, pressing the phone against his ear. “I think I’m here,” His eyebrow raised as he heard some rustling in the background, but nearly dropped his phone when you screamed. The man had wondered why he had been the one that you called tonight. You must have known the way that he had turned out. He was everything that you supposedly hated, and yet here he was. People didn’t call Austin for help unless they wanted their bike worked on or they needed someone dead.

Seeing as he didn’t see a motorcycle in the driveway, he was guessing it was the latter. 

Somebody was in there with you, and you were scared, hurt, dying- fuck, he had no clue what was going on. All he did know was that the front door was locked and he had to get to you. The One Percenters were moraless creatures who usually didn’t give a damn about anybody but their own families. The rules were simple, yet usually easy to work your way around. There was one thing that was sacred though. Never lay your hand on a woman. This was worse though. This was twenty times worse, because whether you knew it or not, you were Austin’s woman. This - whatever was happening in there - warranted death, and if anyone in the Club found out that Austin didn’t kill whatever cock sucker was inside of that house, they’d start to question who he was as a man. 

He didn’t remember kicking the door in. He didn’t hear the wood splintering or glass breaking. All he could hear was the pounding of his own heart, the blood rushing in his ears. “Who the fuck is downstairs, Y/n? Huh? Who the fuck did you call?” Austin jogged up the stairs, and the second that he turned the corner he saw the fucker staring right at him. The blonde was quick to try and look around the other man’s shoulders, desperate to find you. He needed to make sure that you were alright first, and then he would decide what he would do. He had just gotten out of prison, and he didn’t want to go back any time soon. Killing the fucker was out of the question. Half of the neighborhood must have heard him break down the door, and he was sure that he had a time limit. The cops would pull up any second.

“Who the fuck are you?” Austin liked it when people tried to act tough. Your boyfriend must have thought that he actually stood some sort of a chance. 

Austin didn’t answer at first, just squared off his shoulders as he waited for you to come out of the room. He could see you in the shadows, trying to walk up to the door, but the other man was quick to hold out his arm, using his body to keep you trapped. That didn’t sit well with Austin. “Hey!” He screamed, blue eyes narrowed on the other man. “She’s coming with me.” For a second the other guy just stood there, his arm pressed against your chest as he kept you trapped in the room. 

“Are you fucking stupid? I’m not letting her go anywhere with you.” Austin had only gotten a quick glance of your face, what with the house being so dark, but he could see a bruise on your cheek. Whether it was fresh or old, he didn’t know. All he knew was that you had been hit. In the blink of an eye Austin had lunged forward, grabbing the man by the front of the shirt and ripping him out of the doorway. He used the man’s weight against him, tossing him onto the floor like a ragdoll before climbing over the fucker. He began bringing his tattooed fist down, connecting it with the other man’s face again and again. Your boyfriend must have hit his head during the fall, because he was too stunned to move for a few moments. Too stunned to fight back. He tried to buck Austin off of him, but the blonde was like a rabid animal. His eyes were wild, his breathing was erratic, and he couldn’t find it in himself to stop. 

He knew that he shouldn’t be doing this sort of thing in front of you though. He had to stop for your sake. Austin grabbed the man by the front of his shirt again, hearing the stitches beginning to pop with the strength of his hold as he yanked him up, wanting them to be face to face to get his point across. “If she wasn’t here right now I would fucking gut you. Do you understand?” Austin had popped blood vessels in both of the man’s eyes, and he could tell that he was having a hard time focusing on anything else other than the immense pain in his face. The President was used to vocal answers at his orders. “Speak!” Austin screamed right into the man’s back, watching him flinch back. “Y-Yes.” Your boyfriend’s voice was quiet, but it was something. Ever so slowly the blonde stood up and off of the man’s chest, stepping around him so that he could get to you. 

You had been crying at some point, but had stopped right around the time that you had heard Austin arrive. He made sure that his grip was light on your wrist as he reached out to grab you, bringing you into his chest so that he could wrap his arm around you. He had you, and you were safe. He kept repeating that to himself, trying desperately to contain his anger. Austin started to walk you down the hall, but stopped as he noticed the man on the ground, watching you closely as you walked past. 

“Don’t fucking look at her.” Austin let go of you, motioning for you to make your way down the stairs. For a few seconds it looked like you weren’t going to obey him, almost like you were worried for the other man’s safety. The look in Austin’s eyes pushed you forward though. Made you want to get the hell out of that house and away from that horrible, horrible man. Austin looked at you like you mattered. You were safe with him, you knew it. Once you were down the stairs and out of sight, Austin reared his foot back, aiming for his upper chest. It didn’t take too many pounds of pressure to break someone’s clavicle, and he could tell by the satisfying wet popping noise that he had done just that. 

“God, I’ve barely even touched you and you’re screaming like a little bitch.” Austin crouched down, resting his elbows against his thighs as he took in the sight of him. He wanted to make sure that he memorized the fuckers face, because if he ever saw him out in public. . . 

“If you so much as breathe her name again and I find out? I will hunt you down like the dog that you are and skin you alive. I’ll rip every tooth out of your goddamn head and burn you down until you’re nothing but ash and I’ll make sure you’re still alive for all of it.” And with that Austin calmly stood up and made his way down the stairs, feeling around in his back pocket for his keys and phone. You were standing outside beside his bike, your arms wrapped around yourself tightly. “Hey,” He called out to you, reaching out to rub your shoulders up and down. “You’re going to be okay.” You melted into his soothing touch, because it was Austin.

Leaving Austin behind had been one of the hardest decisions that you ever had to make, but you had done it in the hopes of being able to actually live. Now that he stood in front of you, his blonde hair wind mussed and eyes wide, it really hit you just how much you had missed him. The way that he was looking at you now, you also realized that he was still very much your Austin. Just. . . with a lot more tattoos. “I want to make sure that you’re alright, but we have to get out of here. The cops will be here any minute, and the last thing I want is to be charged with breaking and entering along with assault and battery.” He was quick to hop onto his bike, turning his body to gently pat the leather seat behind him. “Come on. You remember how to do this, right?” He teased softly, trying to lighten the mood. It was becoming hard not to stare at you. Even bruised and tearstained, you were still the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. 

He thought that he might go mad with tenderness at the mere sight of your face. You wiped at your cheeks roughly with the back of your hand before flashing him a shaky smile, climbing on back and wrapping your arms around him. He tried not to allow himself to get too excited as he felt your cheek press against his shoulder. He tried not to allow himself to hope. 

Unbeknownst to Austin, you were currently feeling the exact same way. You didn’t want to allow yourself to get sucked back into the Outlaw lifestyle, but if you thought that it was hard to say goodbye to Austin back then, now it would be soul crushing. No one had ever cared as much about you as Austin did, and seeing the way that he had protected you tonight? It put thoughts in your head. It made you doubt whether or not the life that you had been trying to live was really for you or not. You had tried your hand at being the dotting, innocent girlfriend in the hopes of getting everything you had ever thought that you wanted. A white picket fence, a stable future, and a loving partner that you could settle down with. You wanted to get married and have a family. 

You weren’t shocked by how far out into the wildness Austin lived. He was up on a mountain, the roads long and winding. Anybody that didn’t know the twists and turns like the back of their hand would get lost. The biker had always felt most comfortable in nature, and it made sense that he would want to be away from the hustle and bustle of their overpopulated city. Not only that, but it would make it near impossible for anyone that Austin didn’t want to know where he lived to find out. 

His house was a humble two story wood cabin with a large porch and dark green shutters. Time and weather had caused the paint to begin to chip off, and the grass and weeds in the front yard were overgrown. The place was still beautiful, but in need of some basic repairs and upkeep. “I’ve been gone for a little while, so it doesn’t look the best.” He mumbled, sticking his house key into the knob before opening the door wide for you. You could feel his eyes on you the entire way up the porch steps. It made your skin heat up and the hair raise on the back of your neck. After being tightly pressed against his back for nearly thirty minutes, you were finding it hard to look at him. You hadn’t allowed yourself to really stare at him since that first time you saw him walking up the stairs to you, because what you had seen, even in the dark, had knocked the breath out of your lungs. He had always been gorgeous, what with his sandy blonde locks and bright blue eyes. His lazy smile had always lit a fire inside of you, and the nervous habit that he had of biting his lips always left them plush and oh so pink. 

So as you brushed past him you couldn’t help but look up. You let your eyes soak up the sight of him. 

And you instantly regretted it. 

Never in all of your life had you ever seen a more beautiful man. His eyes were still that same antique bottle-blue that you loved so much, framed by thick, heavy lashes. Under the light of the porch his hair looked like liquid gold, now wavy and wild from the wind. His gorgeous, boarding on effeminate facial features were a stark contrast to the rest of him. He had filled out over time, his shoulders broad and strong. You could see his muscles even through the black shirt that he wore. His arms looked more than capable, the veins visible after the physical strain of the fight- and they were completely tattooed. There wasn’t an inch of skin that was visible to you that wasn’t covered- aside from his neck and face. Even his knuckles were tattooed, albeit badly bloodied, and suddenly you were overcome with the urge to grab his hands and examine them. You wanted to trace the line of all of his tattoos. Ask him what each one meant to him. 

You knew that you were being obvious with your staring, but you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander down. He was wearing light wash jeans on his long legs, the hem of his pants tucked over his bulky black boots. You had wondered what that rattling sound was that you heard when he jumped up onto the porch earlier, but you could now see that he was wearing a chain wallet. After a second he cleared his throat, closing the door behind you. “You’re probably exhausted. Uh. . . Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” He nodded almost to himself, his throat working as he thickly swallowed. “Let me just take a shower, and then I’ll move down to the couch.” He grabbed the banister as he walked up the stairs, his boots thumping loudly against the wood. 

The spell hadn’t been broken, but you took a second now that he was out of sight to look around the living room. He had a leather couch, a dark brown blanket tossed over the black of it haphazardly. The coffee table had a few beer bottles on it, but other than that the house looked clean. He had always taken good care of his things. Austin was a man of pride, and he liked to keep the things in his life orderly. The cabin was warm and cozy, the polar opposite of the home that he had been raised in. Austin was what some would consider Outlaw royalty, and with the kind of jobs that they took, the money poured in quickly. His childhood home had been a gaudy palace; extravagant walls had been built sky high to help hide the skeletons that had been stuffed into every closet. 

This house felt lived in though. This felt less like just a place for him to sleep, and more so a safe haven for him to crawl back to after a long day at work. It made you feel more comfortable as you slowly made your way up the stairs behind him, following him into his bedroom. This room was also clean, aside from the overflowing clothes hamper. His furniture was black and minimalistic, and directly to the side of his king size bed were french doors that led out to a small balcony that overlooked his backyard. “You have a nice house. . . It’s very you.” You complimented, moving over to the bed so that you could awkwardly sit down. He was in the bathroom, riffling around in one of his cabinets before he found what it was that he wanted. He moved back into his bedroom, showing you a small washcloth that he had wet with cold water. “Let me clean you up a little bit.” He mumbled, sitting down next to you on the bed so that he could run the cloth over your cheek. You hissed, flinching back and out of his touch. Your bruised cheek was starting to get more and more sore as the seconds passed, the initial adrenaline finally working it’s way out of your system. He apologized under his breath, reaching out to grab the back of your head so that he could keep you in place. He was gentler this time as he ran the cloth over your face. “That’s going to be a nasty bruise tomorrow, but other than that you look-” He stopped himself for a second, as if he just realized how close he was to you. For a few seconds the two of you just stared at each other, taking in the small changes that time had made to each other’s features. “Aren’t you going to go take a shower?” Your voice sounded small. Unsure. The trauma of the night was beginning to sink in, and even though you wanted to ask him a hundred questions, you knew that a few moments alone in the room would do you some good. You needed to breathe, and maybe cry a little bit. You didn’t want him there for that. You wanted to be able to fall apart in private. 

He seemed to get the hint. Austin nodded his head, wordlessly standing up and tossing the wet cloth into the laundry basket. He started to close the bathroom door behind him, but you were quick to call out to him. “Wait!” He paused, whipping his head back as he stared at you expectantly. He was eager to hear what you wanted to say, almost like he was waiting for something in particular. “Can you leave the door open?” You weren’t sure why, but the room almost felt too big, like it might swallow you up if you were left alone. You at least wanted to know that he was just another room away. He looked a little confused for a second, but nodded anyway. He understood that there were things that had happened before he had gotten there. Things that had been said to you that were beginning to weigh heavy. Your bones felt too brittle to carry the burden of them. “Of course.” He left the door open a crack, and you politely turned your head, letting him get undressed without your watchful eyes. 

You could hear his clothing hit the floor, one garment at a time. First it was the loud thudding of his boots hitting the checkered tiles, then the soft fluttering of his t-shirt. Ever so slowly you leaned back against the bed, letting your feet dangle uselessly over the side. Your heart began to pound as you heard the zipper of his pants, then the soft jingling of his wallet as he placed it down on the sink counter. “Are you alright?” He finally spoke up. You turned your head then, looking through the doorway of the bathroom. You caught his reflection in the mirror, and he held your gaze. It wasn’t just his arms and hands that were tattooed. Your suspicions had been correct- he was absolutely covered. He let you stare at him, watching you patiently as your eyes moved from one tattoo to the next. He seemed to be a fan of the old american style, all thick black and red lines. He had always been perfect, but now? Your eyes felt like they would start to burn if you stared at him for too long. The sight of him was almost too much. 

He felt the same way about you though. He watched the way your hair was spread out around your head, your lips glossy and parted slightly as you thought about how to answer that question. He could feel his pulse in his throat, and the sight of you laid out on his bed? He had to take a step away from the mirror, turning on the showerhead to hide himself away. “I will be. I’m just glad you got there when you did.” Because you were sure that it would have gotten worse. Your ex boyfriend had always been self conscious, and he liked to take it out on you. When you were home just a few minutes late from work, he thought that you were cheating. If you turned your phone over after texting a friend, then you must be talking shit. It was a never ending pattern of pointing fingers, accusations, and brutal screaming matches. You were raised to stand up for yourself though. You refused to allow yourself to be spoken down to or made to feel like a fool. Tonight. . . tonight was the straw that broke the camel's back. You always knew that he could be ruthless with his words, but you never suspected that he would ever hit you. The One Percenters were horrible people, but you’d never seen your father raise a hand to your mother. There’d be occasional bickering and drunken screaming matches, but the next day they would be attached at the hip like nothing ever happened. You just expected that was how things were supposed to be. 

This new life that you had insisted on living wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be. Maybe you had screamed too loud, or maybe you had pushed your boyfriend too far. . . but he hadn’t pulled his punch either. You absentmindedly pressed your finger against your cheek, feeling how hot the bruise was under your touch. You were sure that tomorrow it would be swollen and purple, but for now it was just an angry red. 

“Did he do that a lot?” Austin closed the shower curtain behind him as he spoke, ducking his tall frame under the shower head. He closed his eyes tightly, letting the water soak through his hair and warm his face. “Hit you, I mean.” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer, because it might make him want to turn right back around and finish the job. “No. . . tonight was the first time.” A beat. “And the last.” He nodded his head softly, placing his shoulder against the cool tile. The stark differences in temperature made his skin raise with goosebumps. He knew that tonight wasn’t the night to question you. You had been through enough, but he wanted answers. 

He wanted to know why you had to shut him out so completely. There were things that you wanted to know about him too. Things you had been wondering over the years but were never able to ask. 

“So you’re the new boss, huh?” He scrubbed at the crusted blood on his hands, chewing on his lower lip as he hesitated. “Yeah.” You filled your cheeks with air, closing your eyes tightly before releasing it with a loud sigh. “Is the Club doing well?” Austin wasn’t sure if you really cared about how they were all doing. You hated it enough to leave, but you were trying to make small talk, so he humored you. “It’s a wreck. I nearly broke Marcus’s neck this afternoon when I saw the state of things.” You hummed, remembering the older man’s laziness. Your father had hated him.  “So I guess you’re not doing too hot as the president then.” He let out a quick laugh, the sound echoing in the bathroom. Your lip twitched up into a small smile at the sound of it. It was the first time you had heard him laugh in years. It was a nice sound. 

“I was locked up for two years. They know to act right when I’m around. They took advantage of the fact that I wasn’t there to watch over them.” You sat up quickly, looking into the bathroom. The mirror was beginning to fog up, and the shower curtain was drawn shut. “Prison?” You questioned. “Yeah, prison. I set fire to one of Howard’s buildings. Burned up at least a million dollars worth of product. It was originally arsen, but then some of his men started snitching. A couple of other charges were pinned against me. They got dropped though, don’t worry.” You rolled your eyes, letting out a small huff. This was exactly what you didn’t want for him. He was too good for all of this bullshit. Too smart. “Well I’m glad you’re out then.” You weren’t sure what else to say. He could tell by your tone of voice that you weren’t pleased, and he didn’t take too kindly to feeling judged. He clenched his jaw, the muscle ticking as he tried to stop himself from saying something. He never did have a filter though. 

“You still had my number saved in your phone.” He finally spoke up, his voice huskier than it was just a second ago. You swallowed, licking your lips nervously. This was one of the questions that you didn’t want to answer. You knew exactly where this conversation would go, and you didn’t have the energy for it. “Yeah, I did.” 

“Why though?” You heard him suck in a small breath. “No call. No text. Five years is an awfully long time.” You took a second to breathe, taking in the smell of the soap that he was using. It was wafting out from the bathroom, mixing in with the natural pine scent of his home. “I didn’t want to confuse you.” You regretted phrasing it that way. You even went as far as to bite your tongue the second that the words left your lips. It was true though. You didn’t want to confuse him or yourself. You set boundaries. Hard boundaries, and it was painful for the both of you. He let out a humorless laugh, the callous sound making you flinch. You wanted to cover your ears and curl up into a small ball. You hated how cold you were suddenly coming off. This wasn’t how you guys used to act around each other. You were both walking on eggshells. The two of you were acting like strangers, and it physically hurt. Your words tugged at Austin’s heart. Kinda made him want to cry. 

“Yeah. . . Yeah. You definitely wouldn’t want to confuse me. You’re right.” He spat the words out like they were poison, pulling the showercurtain to the side so that he could lean his head out. He stared at your blurry reflection in the mirror. “That’s such a half assed response, and you know it. Bull-fucking-shit. You wanted to live some perfect little life, and I didn’t fit the bill, right? I wasn’t good enough, so you cut me out like I never existed at all.” Your jaw dropped and you were quick to stand up and off of the bed. Your heart was beginning to pound again, your adrenaline kicking back up as he raised his voice at you. “I’m not going to accept that response, so you better come up with a better one, Y/n. We grew up together. You tossed me to the side like I was garbage and then only called me when you wanted me to knock a few of your ex’s teeth out.” He pulled the showercurtain shut roughly, the fabric rustling. 

You didn’t want to fight. You didn’t want to play into this. You took a few steadying breaths, picking at the skin of your nail with your thumb before speaking up. “I don’t want to do this with you, Austin. Not tonight.” Even though he couldn’t see you, you still threw your hands up in the air. Austin had a temper. You should have known saying something like that would have gotten him riled up. 

“No, I’ve waited five years for this conversation. Five. So no, this can’t wait until tomorrow.” You rolled your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to keep your own anger under control. “Can’t you be a little bit more sensitive to the situation? Jesus christ, Aus. Tonight isn’t the night. Leave it!” He laughed then. Loud, uncontrolled laughter. The kind with absolutely no humor behind it. All emotions. “You’re crazy. . .” You mumbled under your breath, taking a step closer to the bathroom. 

“Yes! Yes I am.” He was quick to snap back, supposedly hearing you even over the running water. “Crazy for thinking that you actually cared about me. I gave you the space that you so desperately wanted. . . but god dammit- I would have taken anything you had given me. You could have texted me. Emailed me. You could have called me from a payphone. Send me a mother fucking smoke signal! Scraps. You’ve got me begging for scraps, Y/n.” He was acting as though the two of you had been something more than just childhood friends. Nonetheless, your stomach still churned with guilt. You were beginning to feel like a wounded animal being backed into a corner. You were in the wrong. You knew that you were, but you weren’t going to be made to feel like an asshole twice in one night. 

“Well fuck me for wanting a fresh start, Austin. Fuck me for wanting to feel safe for once in my god damn life! I knew what would happen eventually. I didn’t want to get myself mixed up in this fucked up lifestyle any more than I already was.”Could he really not see where you were coming from? He was talking about setting fire to a drug lord’s storage building like it was nothing. How could he not see how messed up this all was? “You knew what would happen? Meaning. . . you knew how I would turn out. Am I getting that right? You just knew I’d turn out like my father, so instead of mentioning it to me and giving me the chance to talk to you, you just disappeared. Yeah, cause that’s a normal response.” Your jaw dropped. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “Are you really trying to tell me what a normal response is? Seriously?” He scoffed, but you continued. “You kill people, Austin. Kill them.” 

He didn’t respond, but you kept going. “What you just said? It's a moot point. You turned out just like your father.” He was the one that had brought it up, so he didn’t really have a reason to be so angry. He still ripped the shower curtain back open though, sticking his whole torso out so that he could stare at you through the crack in the door. “Don’t you dare fucking say that shit to me. Don’t even try it.” His voice shook as he tried to keep himself from shouting. “You have no idea what plans I had for my life. You know I didn’t want to do this shit. You knew I wanted to try and get out too. It might have been easy for you, but it sure as hell wouldn’t have been that way for me.” Austin had always talked a big game while growing up, but he never acted on it. Was it so wrong that you never took him seriously? 

“I thought that you were just blowing smoke up my ass.” You were torn. Seeing him again was nice. . . too nice. It made you want to stay and suffer through whatever aggression he had saved up for you. This was getting to be too much though. You didn’t have a way of escaping, and your boyfriend had broken your phone after he saw that you were talking to Austin. You ran a shaky hand through your hair, feeling your eyes well up with unshed tears. “I fucked up, okay? I did you wrong, I know. Can you not see why I did all of it though? Can you not see where I’m coming from, even just a little bit?” You kept your voice quiet and even, and it seemed to work. You could hear Austin taking steadying breaths. You knew that he cared about you- maybe even in a romantic way- but you had no idea that it was to this extent. You loved Austin. You had ever since you were kids, but you saw what kind of a person his father was. You didn’t want to put yourself in that situation. You didn’t want to end up like your mother, yet here you were, standing in his bathroom with a bruised cheek and an even more damaged ego. 

“I would have gotten out with you. I would have found some way to hide the both of us. Burner phones, hideaway houses- anything. Fuck. . . anything.” He had probably stopped bathing a while ago. He was using the shower as an excuse to hide himself away from you. If he looked at you he was sure that he would break down. Get too vulnerable. The anger was steadily burning away, like alcohol to a flame, and all that was left was a crippling sadness. He leaned his forehead against the tile, closing his eyes tightly. You both knew where this was going, and neither of you were ready for it. It had to be said though. It couldn’t wait anymore. 

You had to lean against the bathroom doorway, your legs feeling too shaky and unstable underneath you. “But now you’re in too deep.” Your voice was thick with unshed tears, the realization of the situation hitting you like a ton of bricks. 

Because Austin loved you. And you loved Austin. He was caught in a trap, and there was no getting out. “I’m branded for life. I-I’ve done so much shit, Y/n.” He was trying hard not to cry. He hated crying more than anything, even if it was you that he was doing it in front of. He refused to appear weak. 

You didn’t want to know how many people he had hurt over the years. How many people he had killed. “There’s no way you would have meant it, Austin. You would have eventually regretted it. I did what I had to-” “I loved you. I really fucking loved you.” 

The words hung in the air for a second. Echoed around the bathroom and reverberated in your chest. There it was. The words the two of you had never had to say out loud because it had been crystal clear your whole lives. No matter who the two of you dated, it was always there. It was the reason why nothing ever worked out. Nothing ever stuck, and feelings never evolved. Because he was always there with that wide childlike smile and those big blue eyes. Austin was always there to save the day, always there to help you out when you needed him the most. He had never complained either. Not even once. No one could ever replace him. He had always been the love of your life, and for him it was the same. “I wouldn’t have left you. Not ever. I wanted a life with you. . . were you really that blind? Was I not as obvious as I always thought that I was? Do you need me to spell it out for you now?” You stumbled away from the door and into the bathroom, reaching out for the showercurtain and gripping it hard in your hand. “I would have risked my life trying to get the both of us-” You ripped the showercurtain back in one swift move, staring at him wide eyed. 

He didn’t shy away from your gaze either. He turned to face you, his sandy hair clinging to his cheeks and neck as he looked at you. Despite all of the anger and all of the sadness that was settling into the pit of his stomach, his eyes still softened when he looked at you. It was almost as though you two were seeing each other for the first time that night. Really seeing each other. Austin looked at you like you were the only thing that really mattered. Like you’d hung the fucking moon. No one except for Austin had ever looked at you with eyes so sad and yet so lovely. You didn’t just hear the words that he had said, but you had felt them too. It sent your heart into overdrive.

You stepped into the shower, clothes and all, and wrapped your arms around him tight. You had done twenty seven years of waiting. 

No more. 

No more. 

You pressed your lips against Austin’s, and the second that you did he had you pinned up against the tile wall, the cold ceramic pressing hard against your back while the water relentlessly streamed down your front. You were soaked within seconds, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the feel of his warm, naked body pressed up against you. Your lips moved against one another’s in a furious display of passion- all teeth and tongues. The two of you kissed as though you had been doing it for years- everything fell right into place. His soft lips moved in sync with yours, warm water pouring into your open mouths, but you swallowed it all. You wanted to take everything that he was willing to give you. His strong hands grabbed at your hips, fingers pulling against your wet clothes that were acting like a second skin. He pressed even harder against you, breathing you in. 

You took the opportunity to move your hands down his strong shoulders, to the muscles of his back, fingertips dragging against his skin as he softly took your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking it into his mouth. The noise you made spurred him on. He wondered how he could have survived so long without having you this way. 

He felt that if you ever stopped kissing him that he might die. He needed you like he needed air. Your hands explored his exposed skin, fingertips pressing against every ridge and sharp edge of his muscle. They made their way down until they were pinned in between your chests, slowly inching inching inching- “Please.” He gasped into your open mouth, blue eyes opening to look into your own. He wasn’t above begging you. Wasn’t above falling to his knees if it meant that he could have you. Your fingers brushed against his length, thumb sliding along his head. It felt like the air had been punched out of him. The feeling of your small hand wrapped around his cock was almost too much. Because it was you. 

You were touching him. You were touching him. 

You pumped your hand a few times, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. He melted against you, leaning his shoulder against the wall as he pressed his forehead into the top of your head, nuzzling his nose into your wet hair. “Let me fuck you. God, let me fuck you.” His muscles shook as he tried to hold himself back. He squeezed his eyes shut so hard that he saw stars behind his eyelids. He wasn’t used to steering off his own urges. He was used to acting out on his anger. Acting out on all that hate that had turned him surly over the years. He felt you nod, and in a second he was fumbling to turn the water off. In the blink of an eye he had your legs wrapped around his waist, the two of you dripping water. He didn’t care. Not at all, because he had you laid back against the bed before you could even object. His eager hands were ripping at your wet clothes, peeling them off of you as quickly as his shaky hands would let him. His chest was already rising and falling at a rapid pace, eyes half lidded, lips a bright pink from your constant lip-locking. You let your eyes dip down, and god you nearly came just at the sight of him. You pushed your wet hair out of your eyes, arching your back as you tried to help him remove your pants. His eyes were darting across your body, trying to look everywhere- memorize every inch of you. “You’re beautiful. So, so beautiful.” He assured you as he slipped your pants down your legs, tossing them into a soggy heap on the floor. 

You wanted to tell him to just go ahead and take you. You needed his cock inside of you. 

You didn’t care about the foreplay. You just needed to feel him. You couldn’t think of anything else aside from him. Your mind was like a broken record. Because the sheer size of him alone was bringing you to near tears, but it was the desperation in his eyes that was your undoing. It was the way his strong, large hands shook as they danced over your body. They grabbed your hips, ran across your heaving stomach as you gulped back deep breaths, and squeezed your breasts tight. You couldn’t find the words to tell him that you wanted him to go ahead and make love to you. Couldn’t shape the syllables. Your tongue felt too thick in your mouth, and your throat felt like it was closing up. 

He gave your lips a warm kiss, trailing them down your chin and along the front of your throat. He paused there, feeling your pounding pulse against his mouth, letting his tongue lap against the wet skin. The sensation of his lips against you had you tilting your head back, your thighs pressing against his length. The both of you moaned at the same, his deep voice vibrating against your throat. His hands moved down your body, sliding easily along your soaked skin. He stopped once he found what he was looking for- and good god you thought your heart was going to stop. Austin pressed his fingers against your folds, feeling your slick, feeling everything. “Ah, fuck.” 

Everything about you was beautiful. Your body, your expressions, and the little noises he seemed to be effortlessly pulling out of you. The feel of you wasn’t enough though- he couldn’t survive off of that alone. He needed to taste you. He slid down your body removing his hands so that he could place them at your thighs, pulling them apart so that he could get a good look at you. You raised up on your elbows, watching him with half lidded eyes as he just laid there on his stomach and stared. If this had been anyone else you would have been self conscious, but you saw the look in his eyes. Saw the way his tongue darted out and licked his lips. “This is the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” He was in complete awe of you. He knew that if he ever got lucky enough to see you laid bare in front of him like this, that you would be beautiful, but this? It was too much. You were too much. Even if this was just a one time thing for you, there couldn’t be anyone again for him. Not after this. You had ruined him. Completely. 

You had reached into his chest and ripped out his heart, and he was alright with that. 

He separated your folds with his fingers, really drinking you all in before he finally pressed his lips against you. You were quick to cry out, back arching up and off of the bed as your hand flew down, gripping at his wet hair. He set a devastating pace, his tongue flattening out as he licked along your clit, two fingers moving up to slip inside of your entrance. His fingers immediately curled inside of you, pressing against all of the right places. You were glad that he didn’t have any neighbors, because you screamed. How long had it been since someone had taken the time to pleasure you? Too long. Your thighs tried to close, the pleasure becoming too much. It was building too quickly- and you didn’t want to cum yet. 

“Stop. Stop- please.” He didn’t stop though. His eyes flew open, watching you as he felt your walls begin to flutter. He wanted to watch you come undone. “I want to cum on your cock- please.” That made him pause. You tightened around his fingers as he slowly pulled his face away from your core, his needy eyes pinning you down. “You asked so nicely,” He slowly pulled his fingers out, crawling back over you like a wild animal. His gaze was too heated. You had to turn your head to the side and shut your eyes tight. “Please, Austin.” He purred. Purred. 

“Such a good girl,” He pressed his fingers against your lips- the ones that had been inside of you- and you opened your mouth. He pressed his fingers against your tongue, watching you hungrily as you sucked them clean. “So perfect.” He mumbled. You couldn’t take it. You’d never felt so needy in your life. Your quivering thighs moved to wrap around his middle, positioning him at your entrance yourself. That was the final push that he needed. 

“Fuck! Austin!” You screamed as he thrust into you. Every. Inch. You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see. Couldn’t feel anything else but him. He was the only thing that existed. Your eyes shut tight, but the hand that wasn’t holding himself up quickly moved to your face, grabbing your chin in his hand tightly. “Eyes open.” And you obeyed. You hated authority. You always fought against it, but there was just something about him. You couldn’t deny him. 

His hips snapped against you at a pace that you didn’t think was possible. He fucked you like he was hoping your bones would meld. Like he could somehow absorb into your body. He was inside inside inside. Pressing against every part of you. He continued to hold your face in his hand, his grip tightening as he let out a growl of pleasure. His eyes fluttered, mouth dropping open as he pressed you into the bed. It had been years since he had been with a woman, and even if he hadn’t the pleasure would still have been too much for him. Because you were his woman. 

His one. 

He raised up on his knees, reaching down to grab your hip so that he could take you with him. The angle. The angle. He was fucking you so deep that it hurt. Brought tears to your eyes. But it was good. Too good. His other hand reached out, grabbing the headboard for leverage, his torso leaning over you as his hips continued their near impossible pace. “Oh fuck.” He wished he could have taken a picture of your face, but he settled with storing it deep into his memory. He wanted to relive this moment. Again and again. His cock twitched inside of you, you bliss stricken expression almost too much. He didn’t want to cum. He wasn’t done yet. His hold on the bed frame tightened, and you let out a yelp as you heard the wood crack behind you. He hissed, clenching his teeth in pain as he felt the splintered wood dig into his palm. 

You turned your head just in time to see a few drops of blood soak into the sheets, dripping off of his hand. Your eyes widened, and you were quick to turn your head. You were going to ask him if he was okay, but the second you saw the look on his face you knew that he was more than okay. The pain kept his orgasm at bay- snapped him out of it. He tightened his hold on the splintered wood, the muscles in his jaw working as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. After a second he put all of his wait on his knees, fucking up into you so that he could remove his hand. He took a second to look down at the deep gashes, licking his lips before his eyes found you again. He could have needed stitches- he didn’t care. He dropped his injured palm down to your neck, wrapping his fingers around your throat. You could feel the hot blood smear against your skin, and you weren’t sure why- but never in your life had you ever experienced anything quite so sensual. So personal. 

Because he was marking you. 

He added pressure to his hold on your throat, cutting off airflow. You reached up, clawing at his arms and his chest, mouth opening as you let out a strangled cry. You were cumming. You could feel it. 

He could too. It pushed him to fuck into you harder, his large palm still pressed against your throat, two of his fingers moving up to pull at your bottom lip. He hooked his fingers into your mouth, pulling it open for him- and then he spit. Spit. 

You swallowed it too. 

Then you came undone. Eyes rolled back, head pressed hard against the mattress, and thighs quivering. He pulled an orgasm out of you so earth shattering that you were sure that you wouldn’t have been able to breathe, even if he wasn’t still choking you. Your walls clamped down around him, and that was all it took to have him following close behind. He came with your name on his lips. Again and again he said it, driving his cum deep deep deep inside of you. He loosened his hold on your throat, and you sucked in a breath, choking on it. Your chest heaved as you tried to regulate your heart, and he was in a sad state as well. He was gulping down air, blue eyes wide, his arms shaking as he loosened his hold on you. 

Slowly he pulled out, looking down as he watched with grave interest as his cum began leaking out of your entrance. He moved his hand down, using his fingers to gather it up. Pushing it back in. For a few seconds the two of you just stayed there, staring at each other, trying hard to calm yourselves down. “L-Let me get a towel.” He could barely speak. His mouth felt numb and his eyes felt wet. “No,” You shook your head, licking your dry lips. You shut your eyes for a second, listening to the pounding of your heart and his panting breaths. “Leave it.” 

“Okay. . .” He trailed off, and you opened your eyes just in time to see the realization dawn on him. “Okay.” His eyes softened, his lips twitching up into a small smile. You wanted him. All of him. It was acceptance, no matter how vague. You wanted this.  You loved him. You loved him so much it felt like you might burst, your ribs aching under the pressure of it all. You were fucked. This life- no matter how messed up you thought it was- you could make it work. You would make it work, because it was Austin.

Your Austin.

@bookklover23 @medleyj @idkwhattthisisss @dharnwjs @slutforsomegoodlettuce @crackerbarrelslut @macey234 @nightfiress @keepdrivingrr @melodydior @luvvrrrrr @mymamalife @wwebby657 @shynovelist @ssstrangersblog @harrysthecraic @hangmanswhore @jyvnho @alqvarde @bcofl0ve @mslizziesblog @ggxsan @screaching-cookie @fantuhsise @areuirish @hxllvely @lelifesaver @milaa24 @meladollsims @poppet05 @shrekstheloml @randomwriter888 @idc123sworld @vane28282 @mirandastuckinthe80s @girlblogger2002 @rockerchick05 @screechingstrawberrysong @simpforevery1 @girlabirla @dre6ming @obetrolncocktails @fairyjanes @jensenswinchester @lo-bells

john, johnny seo (m)

Pulling his legs up on the couch, he wraps himself up in a ball, chin resting atop his knees. There’s a cool breeze passing through the living room from the balcony where Mark and Haechan jump around, helping you put up washing. You always call on them at times like these, their energy tenfold that of their hyungs and most importantly, their willingness to help. He hears you yelp as Haechan drops a white pillow case, quickly warning him about playing around with Taeyong’s linens and he apologises just as fast. Mark sniggers just out of your view, Haechan sticks out his tongue. Then you’re all laughing again, the two of them handing you sheets then running back inside as you slide the balcony door shut.

Your gaze doesn’t even pass Johnny’s as you sit, wedged between the couch’s arm and Jaehyun, shifting as you make room for Jungwoo, who rushes to sit on the ground between your legs. He practically purs at your touch, the back of his head resting on your knee as you scratch his scalp, sending him to sleep in mere seconds. Jaehyun just leans into you, his freshly washed hair flicking cold drops on you when you push him off, he flinches at the obvious threat in your eye. When he pouts in apology, your lips purse, holding back a grin as he offers you one, pushing his hair back before you finally let him relax into you again.

A few moments pass before you ask Doyoung to explain the plot of the drama he’s watching, unfamiliar with it though interested. Usually annoyed by interruptions, Johnny suspects he’ll refuse. But to his surprise, Doyoung pauses it, divulging everything he can conjure from his memory alone before rewinding through the current episode to give you context, names, settings. Johnny loves how engrossed you are in what Doyoung’s saying. How your hands never cease scratching Jungwoo’s scalp, how you keep the motion steady as your jaw drops, giving small nods as you follow his narrative, the drama astounding you.

You ask if you can watch too, and this is when Yuta interrupts, talking about football starting soon and Doyoung having already hogged the television this week. A fight for the controller breaks out. Nothing too crazy but you’re mindful of a sleeping Taeyong, his balled up figure not far from where Johnny sits. A hush falls over the room when you silence them, their eyes journeying to his dozing frame before they give up, offering you the remote. With a tilt of your head, you gesture towards Taeil, who just hovers behind the couch, unbothered.

This was a regular non-work day in the 127 household. The world spinning, life continuing. There’s so much domesticity here, and that makes life all the more enjoyable. Johnny thinks you have had something to do with that. How you dote on Haechan yet still see through his charm. How you care for Mark, and praise him constantly. How you pamper Jungwoo, your gentle touch settling him. How you challenge Jaehyun yet soothe him with your words. How Doyoung can confide in you, his every thought yours for the taking. How Yuta crumbles for you and gives you your way. How Taeyong finds peace in you and safety in your nurturing. How Taeil has an ally in you, a companion, a friend.

And Johnny?

He didn’t really know. You cared for him deeply. He knew that. Not the way you did everyone else, just in the way you trusted him. To step up when he had to. Whether it be caring for the youngest or shouldering responsibility for the eldest. You’d begun to rely on Johnny how you didn’t anyone else. But that didn’t mean he didn’t need you like they did. Sure, Johnny could take care of himself and everyone else. He found joy in being someone they needed, in being their support. But, there are days where he too craves your soft touch and praise. Where he wants to lay his head on the soft skin of your thighs and feel your hands in his hair, a song filling the air as you stroke the expanse of his cheeks, a finger trailing the highest points of them before you leave a soft kiss.

Johnny wants your attention. He craves it. Like the rest do but so much more. He wants you to look for him in a room of people and go to him. He wants you to be his refuge. He wants you.

“John?” But for starters, he wants you to call him Johnny. “Hey, are you okay?”

It’s nearing midnight and he’s standing in the center of your room, while you hover at your door. When he doesn’t say anything, you approach him, closing the door behind you. He slept in here when you were off on a schedule and he forgot his charger. He’s holding it in one hand while his other inspects a photo, it’s of the members - minus him.

“Noona, why don’t you like me?”

You don’t think you hear him right—no. You definitely didn’t. So you walk around him to find he’s crestfallen, a frown you can’t stand the sight of taking his face. “What do you mean?”

“Like the others. You don’t treat me like them.”

You look at the picture and immediately return to that day. You’d all been walking the streets of LA, the sun was high but so were your spirits. You remember his camera never once left his hand, always snapping shots of you all. He’d been the one to take the photo. That’s why you loved it. He captured you all so well, his eye for lighting and skilful focus. Johnny did everything so well. It was hard to believe you were his senior. He had always been just that bit better than you in every way and yet, it’s only now you’re seeing what that is doing to him.

“You treat the members like you love them more than me.” The idea he felt less loved by you made your breath shake, his eyes still not meeting yours. “Do you not care about me?”

“How can you say that?” He looks up then, the hurt on your face making him regret it instantly.

“You don’t talk to me like you talk to them. You don’t even call me Johnny. You don’t play with me or hang out with me. You never ask me to do anything or want my help at home. It’s like I don’t even exist.” He doesn’t realise this all upsets him until now. Now he sees a version of the group without him. A version that you might see in your mind. “Am I just your colleague?”

“Johnny.” He doesn’t think you’ve ever scolded him. Not once. He hates it. “Don’t. Don’t ever say that.” He’s hot under your gaze. The way your brows crease, the anger in your eyes. He doesn’t know at what. At him, yourself. But he can’t lie, the attention is nice. “Of course you aren’t. You’re so much more than that.”

“Then why?” It’s barely even a whisper, but you hear him, the want. The need. “Do you think I don’t need you like they do? That I don’t need you to hold me when I’m sad? To t-touch me?”

This isn’t Johnny. Not the one you’re used to. The loud, boisterous Johnny who, and though now you think you’re wrong, is immovable. Independent Johnny, who you wished and prayed to be more like than anyone. Johnny who you envied for his resilience and his drive. Johnny who intimidated you for so long. He saw the good in literally everything. It drove you a little insane, the idea you’d never meet his standard. That there existed someone so impenetrable, you would always be lesser.

But then, maybe that was never Johnny. That was the Johnny you made him out to be. The Johnny you unknowingly pushed him to be. The Johnny he thought you needed. That was John.

This is is Johnny.

Johnny’s eyes bore into yours. They’re pained and so frighteningly lonely yet so breathtaking. As if there’s been so much behind them and your forced image and expectation of him kept it there. If you dwell on it too much, it might crush you beyond repair. So you rid yourself of it. The idea this was a man who could carry the weight of the world because he merely acted like he could. You forget what you thought. You just accept what you see.

Johnny needs you.

You raise a careful hand to his cheek, shocked by how quickly he responds. He nuzzles into your open palm, shuddering breaths leaving him as he sinks into your touch. It’s a sight to behold. The skin that smooths between his brow, the slight lift of the corners of his mouth. You feel like you’re like this for hours, your arm grows tired. Your heart constricts when you pull it away and he whimpers, his hands twitching at his sides as if he wanted to stop you.

“It’s okay.” You whisper, his eyes following you as you move to your bed. “Can we sit down?” He just follows you, the bed dipping on your left as you watch him sit. “Johnny?” He turns, his eyes following as you lay down. “Do you want to cuddle?”

He nods then, embarrassment filtering in at the idea. Had you really never done this with him? You shake your head, happy to have it happen at long last. You pull his head to your chest, his arms loop around your middle so naturally you wonder if you’d been mistaken. Until his legs do the same, winding with yours. The feeling is unfamiliar though welcomed. How thick his thighs feel between your own, how long his limbs are. He is undoubtedly huge yet he fits so perfectly around you, you can’t help but think you were made to be his comfort. He squeezes you tighter as you shift, your giggles filling the air as he nuzzles himself further into your breasts. This isn’t new for you. It was awkward in the early days, but it’s far from that now.

Running your fingers through his hair, you giggle as he groans, the deep rumbles are again, nothing new.

You offer a slight tug for his attention, thinking it might be about time to talk. To acknowledge your mistakes.

It’s now you realise how new this is for him. How his cheeks flush against your chest and hands on your hips are brand new sensations for him. Your dull nails scratching along his scalp and gentle snag on the ends. They all make his eyes hooded, his breaths a bit ragged as he gulps, looking up at you. “Sorry.” You immediately know what he’s sorry for. It’s pressing on your thigh. It’s firm and painfully obvious. You just smile, stroking a thumb along his cheek and staring into his eyes.

“It’s okay, Johnny.” He thinks you might be an angel. How gentle you are, how understanding. But he thinks you might be fallen when you ask him, “Do you want me to take care of it?”

He should say no. You’d done everything he needed and more. He hadn’t meant he needs you for this. This is more of a want. This isn’t something he needs but it’s what he’s always wanted. And he knows it’s stupid, he knows you just feel bad and he knows it’s desperate. He knows he’ll hate himself. That blurring the lines between you any further won’t satisfy him. But you’re here, waiting, with kind eyes that hold him captive. Your fingers still card through his hair, moving it out the way for you to get a better look at him. No. You’re not just looking at him. You’re seeing him. It’s all he ever wanted. He decides he likes getting what he wants.

His nod is ever so slight, you only see it because of how attentive you are to him. You feel it in your hands, the small shift in his neck. You hear it in the sheets, the fabric moving with him. He watches you smile at him, your offer no longer hanging in the air though the insinuation does. He’s scared he missed your point, frightened he’d messed this up. But then your eyes drift. And you’re not just watching him, but staring. At his lips. The small part in them, where he draws small, careful breaths. And you’re moving, bringing yours to his in a kiss so soft, he can’t help but flinch. At how fragile you think him to be. How differently you see him now.

“I won’t break you know.” He teases with a small laugh, his hands gripping your hips a tiny bit harder, as if showing you the force he could handle. “I can take it.”

“Johnny,” his smile falls slightly, noting the hints of sadness in your eyes. “I’m sorry I put so much pressure on you. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.” He doesn’t want to cry. He isn’t broken. He’s just lonely. But then your voice cracks and he thinks he just might. “I want to show you I’m sorry. I-I want to be what you need.”

That’s all he wants. But he can’t help feel overwhelmed by the affection. The intimacy he’s wanted for so long, pouring out of you like a faucet. He trusts you though. That you’ll take good care of him. That you’d know what he wants. That he’d be in the safest hands. So he nods as he leans in, his hunger cloaked by desperation as his lips mould with yours, your hands cupping his cheeks, fingers scratching his nape. A groan rumbles in him, pouring into your mouth as you press your thigh to his crotch, pulling back to watch his jaw clench. He watches your eyes fall to the space between you, his hips circling into your thigh as he watches you intently, his lip caught painfully between his teeth. He’s surprised when you moan at his actions, his pace slowly building before you stop him.

“Use me.” He’s lost because that’s already what he’s doing. “Use me, Johnny. Fuck me.” He doesn’t believe you. Not until you’re practically begging. “I-I want to help you. I want to be what you need. Fuck me. Please.” You press your forehead to his, fingers still digging into his hips, you’re so close his eyes cross. He sees the lust in your gaze though, it’s almost lethal. “You can use me. Please use me.”

Not a single part of him is torn. He’s practically trembling in anticipation at the thought, his hands scramble to free you of your shorts, stripping you in one swift motion, freeing himself nearly as quickly. He pauses as he sees holiness if your gaze, a reverence reflected back in your eyes. You nearly quiver, the once omnipotent being bared out for you. His hooded eyes and flushed cheeks. His leaking tip, twitching as you reach out to stroke your fingers along his abdomen. He nearly giggles at your touch, earning a soft one from you.

“You’ve always been so good for me, John.” He frowns, scared that is no longer the case. “Let me be good for you now.”

He leans down then, a hand balancing him beside your head, the other pumping him a few times. The feeling of your fingers on his skin is heavenly. How you squeeze his shoulders and stroke down his arms. Never a misplaced pressure. Your touch is planned yet free, your hands passing over the expanse of his back, enjoying the feel of him beneath your palms.

“You feel so good,” you whisper, his breath hitching. “You’re so good to me, Johnny. Thank you,” He presses his forehead to yours again, his nose rubbing against yours as you gaze up at him. “My perfect Johnny.” He kisses you to hide his blush, though the heat beneath your hands is a give away. “My perfect boy.”

He’s beaming. It’s the prettiest sight you’ve ever seen and you want to scream because you could’ve seen this all along. You could’ve made Johnny so happy and saved him the pain of—

“Don’t do that,” he says, seeing the regret in your eyes. “Forget about it. You know now.”

You do. And it dulls the pain for a moment, and his kiss numbs it but his cock sliding into you, wrapped snuggly in your slick walls, banishes it. You can think of nothing else. Nothing but the delicious sounds he fills your ears with. The grunts that pour out of him as you clamp around him. The kisses he peppers your lips with, his mind full of you.

“Can I ask you something?” He asks anyway, lips now concentrating on yours, his hips still. You nod, eager to please. “Where should I come?”

“Wherever you want.”

He’s in love. He ignores the brief thought as he tucks his arms under yours, craddling your head so he can rest his body on you, your chest heavy though your vision fills with him. His hips roll without warning. He moves them in small circles, his lips moving in time with yours, tongues tangle together. He deepens the kiss every time you whimper, the sound urging on his thrusts, the intimate winds of his hips abandoned as you scratched down his back, your hands squeezing his ass, pulling him further into you. Your lips slack as his thrusts increase in speed, the sound of skin slapping skin fills the room along with your whines. He isn’t muffling them anymore, he’s watching you. How your jaw hangs open, letting your whimpers pour out. With a small change in his angle, your eyes screw shut, making it harder for you to take his thrusts. He rises to lean on his hands, snapping his hips rapidly into you, his tip hitting the spot that has you crying out for him, all other sounds erased from his memory at the sound of that. John falls from your lips as you struggle to hold on. John trapped behind a moan as his thumb circles around your clit. John crawls its way up your throat before you open your eyes at his request, only to see him.

Johnny.

Who snaps into you for the final time as he lets go, his seed spilling into you. He fills you completely as you milk him, the walls of your cunt coated in your mingling arousal as you clamp around him, refusing to let him go. Not that he wants out. So you both just stay like this, his wet forehead pressed against yours, the air in the room cold on your damp skin.

You blink away the fatigue so you can see him, sighing contentedly when he beams down at you. You’ve seen him smile like this, but never at you. You want to see it always. “You okay?” He asks, wiping your forehead dry.

Nodding, you do the same, finding your palms just as wet. But yes, you are okay. And so is he.

basement confessions

stanley uris x reader

– one-shot

– synopsis: You hated Stanley Uris. Stanley Uris hated you. Why the Losers’ Club thought a sleepover and a game of truth or dare would fix that was beyond you, but anything’s worth a try. (aged up au: 18) 

– notes: requested by @katherinewhat ; “heyheyhey i would like to see a imagine/fanfic whatever u want to call it, where (y/n) and stan hate each other ever since they were kids. But then the losers club is just sick of them fighting so they have a sleepover and play truth or dare or something; then lock them in bill’s basement and are forced to make out *cough* sorry make up ;) anddd (y/n) is terrified of bill’s basement so stan try’s to calm her down??” okay so I love this fic, i hope you do too!! as always, let me know if you want an add to the tag list. It’s a little on the long side (3k+) so i put a keep reading tab on it. (this also has a splash of reddie thrown in there)

click here to read the unofficially official part two: ailing confessions 

“Truth or dare, Y/N?” Stan asked you, as he tried to hide the small ghost of a smirk that slowly inched its way on to his face.

And at that moment, you knew you were fucked.

“Jesus Christ,” Bev muttered under her breath in reply before you could voice your own irritation. Jesus Christ, indeed. Currently, all the Losers were sat around in a circle in the living room of Bill’s house playing this stupid game Richie had suggested. Truth or dare. Though you fought against it, asking in a sarcastic tone, “what are we, twelve?” you were easily ignored. It wasn’t that you were scared to play the game or do the dares. You just knew one person in particular would try to make you do the most miserable, horrible stuff he could think of. That person was Stanley Uris.

Keep reading