Kinktober 2020 Day 10- Food Play (L. )

ALFIE SOLOMONS AS A BOYFRIEND

Warnings: NSFW, fluff

A/N: take this because i have nothing else to post

- in LOVE with u

- like so inlove with u

- PAMPERS YOU SO MUCH

- like he’d be at a meeting with tommy

- and he’s like

- “wtf, why are u taking so long? fine i’ll only have 20 percent can i fucking go home now”

- tommy’s like ...what

- he signs the paper and storms off

- because he remembered it was your time of the month

- buys so much food and other stuff you liked

- goes home and ur like what are u doing here

- “are u okay pet? does it hurt? do u want cuddles? do u want food? do u want to fu-“

- i feel like he doesn’t care for pda, but if u wanted he’d just let you

- but when a guy hits on you, he’d be kissing you all over for the whole day to prove ur his

- he’s clingy tbh

- just a big bear

- gIVES THE BEST CUDDLES OMG

- he lovesss being the big spoon

- he is one horny motherfucker tho

- he’d be like “omg 🥺 i love you so fuckin much, yeah? i’d give my life for u. i will protect u with all i fuckin have-“ then 5 seconds later he’d be pinning you down and would pound his cock in you over and over until his cum was dripping down your thighs, whimpering from the overstimulation :)

- you calm him down whenever he’s angry at work

- ollie just calls you all the time tbh

- “SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU FUCKING WOP. WHAT DO YOU THINK YO— oh hello, luv 🥺 what brings u here today? do you need anything? come here”

- his voice softens and his postures relaxes instantly

- would be thinking about you the whole day

- “okay so— alfie? alfie where are you going?”

- “i’m going to go fuck my missus or else my balls will turn fucking blue, alright tommy?”

- you asked him once “do you think other women are attractive, alfie?”

- “not really, no”

- only has eyes for you :((

- big dick

“Therapy”

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 3,180

A/N: *sigh* My sweet Youngjae. I had a quick idea and I felt like he would fit this role just because I think he is good at hiding shit behind that adorable smile of his lol.

Two voices ricocheted off the walls of an empty room, yours and your coworker, Suzy. This was the norm for both of you during a break away from working. You would come into her office and chat with her but it was mostly to bounce ideas off each other but you both would end up discussing every topic under the sun. From work to what was happening on in the outside world.

“… yeah so long story short, my mother is coming to stay with me a couple weeks. That should be very interesting.” Suzy stated, tossing her hand up in a bored manner. “So, what’s been going on with you? How’s your future husband?”

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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.

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Three Little Words - Adrian Chase x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: hi hello i'm back with whatever the hell this is. if i've said this once i've said it a thousand times but i don't really like this i just feel like i should probably post it bc i haven't posted anything in a couple days and if i don't post i'll lose motivation so :') here you go. enjoy.

Summary: There's three things in life that Adrian Chase is really, really fucking good at: crime fighting, D&D and running away from his feelings.

Warnings: afab!reader (i tried to keep it as GN as possible though), SMUT, language, unprotected piv sex, cockwarming

Word Count: 5.6k

•••••••••••••••••

Adrian wasn't sure when it happened, or how he had allowed it to happen. At first he thought he was seriously ill. He assumed the butterflies in his stomach when you were around (not to mention the ache in his heart when you weren't) was a sign of a serious, underlying health condition.

It scared him, and he spent weeks trying to figure out what was going on with his body and his mind and his heart, ignoring any and all internet articles that told him what he most definitely didn't want to hear.

He wasn't in love, that he was sure of.

....Or was he? No! He was ill. He had to be. There was no other explanation for the strange things he had been feeling.

Chris, however, thought otherwise.

"I think I might have a heart condition or something." Adrian told Chris, both of them sat on the couch in Chris' trailer. He had seen you earlier in the day (though he was certain that you hadn't seen him), and everything he had been feeling came crashing down on him all at once from just the short glimpse he had managed to catch of you. The butterflies, the tingles, the aches, the urge to just run over to you and pull you into his arms to let everyone know that you were his and he was yours. Of course that didn't happen, and instead he ended up on his best friend's doorstep, seeking whatever comfort Chris would offer.

"Dude, why would you have a heart condition?" Chris asked, bringing the beer bottle to his lips, taking a swig.

Adrian shrugged, "I don't know man, but there's something seriously wrong with me."

Chris scoffed at this. He couldn't help himself. After everything Adrian had just told him, it was obvious what was troubling him, and Chris had a feeling that he knew exactly what was going on, he was just refusing to admit it. Ever the expert at ignoring and running away from his feelings. "Yeah, there's something seriously wrong with you, alright..." He mumbled, rolling his eyes.

Adrian sighed, "See? I knew it. I knew you'd notice too! I'm paler than usual and my heart keeps doing this weird thing where it feels like it's gonna jump right out of my chest. I think I have a serious condition. I should probably see a doctor. I'm seriously ill."

"Dude. You're not seriously ill."

"....I'm not?"

"No. But what you are is seriously fucking stupid." Chris got up, throwing his empty bottle into the bin as he made his way over to the fridge. "You're in love, asshole."

He almost crashed the Vigilante-mobile three times that night.

Honestly, it was a miracle that he had made it home without being pulled over (or dying, actually). His mind was racing with thoughts of you and love and how he could have possibly allowed it to happen. He had no interest in paying attention to the road.

Instead, he thought about the night he met you.

It was late, and you were alone in the bar, knocking back beer after beer like your life depended on it. Adrian had no idea why you were there, and he didn't care to ask. He just bought himself a beer, sat down next to you and the two of you fell into easy conversation.

You kept smiling at him and laughing at his shitty jokes and laughing at the serious things he said that he would never admit were serious because he never wanted to see your smile leave your lips. It made him forget about the shitty day he'd had. Made him forget about Chris' dad and the butterfly mission and everything else that had been troubling him.

An hour later, you were resting your head on his shoulder, slurring out, "Hey.... Do you-... Do you wanna come home with me? You're really pretty and i think you'd look really nice in my apartment."

He agreed. Of course he agreed, and by the time both of you left the bar he was just as drunk as you (it didn't take long for him to catch up to you after the day he'd had).

When you were around halfway back to your apartment, his arm wrapped tightly around you as you stumbled through the streets, you learned each other's names. In the elevator of your apartment building, after you hooked your fingers around his belt loops and pulled his body close to yours, he found out what your lips tasted like.

You didn't have sex that night.

Instead, you stumbled into your apartment, attached at the lips with your hands in his hair and his on your hips, and as soon as your back hit the bed you were out for the count. Adrian couldn't even find it in himself to be disappointed because you looked so fucking cute when you slept.

The two of you laughed about it the next morning as he fucked you before breakfast, lazy and slow, like you were lovers experiencing your only moment of peace together on a blissful Sunday morning. It hurt his heart when he left your apartment, but he left with your number and a request that he called you as soon as he had the chance because you liked him and you wanted to see him again.

So, he did just that.

In fact, he called you the next afternoon and within hours you were in his apartment. He left you alone in his room for a moment while he made you a cup of coffee, and when he came back he found you sat on the floor, a box in your hand.

"You play D&D?" You asked, glancing between Adrian and the boxed set in front of you.

Adrian wanted to crumple to the floor and die on the spot. "Yeah..." He grimaced before continuing, "It was a long time ago, though. I... I kinda don't play anymore."

"Oh. That's a shame. I've never played. I was hoping you could teach me." You shrugged, a pout on your lips.

It took every inch of willpower in his body for him to not get hard right there and then.

"O-oh? I mean... I wouldn't mind. I wouldn't mind at all, actually. In fact, I would love to teach you. I got bullied a lot in high school because I didn't hit puberty until my mid twenties and I spent almost all of my time in my parents' basement playing D&D with my brother and his weird friends.... But you didn't need to know that. And I should probably stop talking now and... just teach you how to play D&D." He smiled sheepishly and scratched at the back of his neck, but you didn't laugh or bat an eyelid at his rambling. You just nodded and grinned at him.

He spent the next hour helping you create a character, and then the two of you spent the hours after that playing. He tried to be as animated as possible, using any and all voices and facial expressions to keep you entertained. You smiled and laughed along with him, but eventually the laughter died down and when he looked over to make sure everything was okay on your part he realised that you were staring at his lips. But it was okay, because he was staring at your lips, too.

He had the best sex of his life that night.

A few weeks passed before he found himself at your door again, dressed in his Vigilante suit, the mask pulled over his face and a wound to his side. He wasn't sure why he came to you first. You had no idea about his secret life as the crime fighting hero. Maybe it was because your place was closer, or maybe he just wanted to see you again, to fall asleep in your arms after the stressful night he'd had.

He banged his fist against your door a few times before leaning himself against the wall, his hand clutching his side, feeling the hot, sticky liquid coat his glove.

You looked so cute when you opened the door in your pyjamas, a look of fear and confusion on your features as you stared as the masked figure standing across from you with his back against the wall, a steak knife in your hand.

He couldn't help but be concerned, though. Your self defence skills clearly weren't up to scratch.

"Who the fuck are you? Why are you here?" You asked, holding the small knife up in front of you.

"Oh, now you're asking who I am? You're supposed to ask that before you answer the door. Seriously, (Y/N), I can't believe you even opened your door at 2 in the morning without asking who's there or even looking through the peephole. Sure, you had enough sense to bring a knife, but I have a bigger knife. And I have guns. Imagine if I was here to hurt you or kidnap you. You'd be done for. Your mind is the greatest weapon you have when it comes to self defence. You have to think tactically and on your feet, and this," He pointed at you, "is a piss poor effort. You really need to be more street smart. In fact, I'll teach you. We can start tomorrow. I'll get you-..."

You scoffed, lowering your knife, "Well I'm sorry for not being fully prepared for a bastard in a mask to turn up at my door this late at night."

"Apology accepted, I guess. But I still expect you to be more prepared in future. You never know who's creeping around these days."

"Dude, you're the one creeping around. Now I won't ask again. Who the fuck are you, and why are you here?" You knew that voice, the way he stood, the way he rambled on, the way he used his hands when he spoke.

"Well..." He started, "I'm here because I'm bleeding out, obviously. And I really don't wanna go to the hospital because... y'know, super heroic secret identity reasons. So I thought I'd just.. come to the nearest apartment and ask for help."

"But my apartment isn't the nearest. I live on the second floor."

Adrian breathed out a laugh, "Yeah, you're telling me. Did you know the elevator's broken? I had to walk up two flights of stairs to get to here."

"Dude, I live here, obviously I know the elevator's broken. I just-..." You sighed. Deep down, you knew the masked figure at your door was Adrian all along, you were just hoping you were wrong. "Adrian, I know it's you under there."

Adrian wasn't sure whether to be relieved that you had figured him out so quickly. I mean, what else did he expect? He knew you were anything but stupid, and that he would've had to come clean to you at some point during the night when explaining how he knew which door was yours and how he knew your name. But what it really that obvious? When he gave it a moment of thought he decided that yes, it probably was that obvious.

You reached up and tugged at the mask, silently asking for permission to remove it, which he granted with a nod. When you pulled the mask over his head, he greeted you with a grin that honestly looked more like a grimace. "Surprise...?"

You let him into your apartment and patched him up as well as you could while you listened to him explain everything, something he was incredibly grateful for. It wasn't often that sweet-busboys-turned-masked-vigilantes could show up outside of someone's door and be treated with such care and kindness.

He had the second best sex of his life that night, made bittersweet by his injury and the fact that you broke down in tears shortly after, telling him that you needed time to think about him and everything you had learned about him and what he did over the last couple of hours.

So really, he had the best sad sex of his life that night.

As he drove his car home from Chris', occasionally swerving into the wrong lane or missing his turns or narrowly avoiding other cars on the road, he realised that it all made sense, and he couldn't deny it any longer.

He was completely, hopelessly and utterly in love with you.

The pieces all fit together perfectly. It was the reason he felt like he was going to burst with excitement every time you looked at him. It was the reason why he had been so reckless in the weeks you weren't speaking, so willing to risk his life (because what did he have to lose?). The reason why your smiling face flashed across his mind right before he fell to the ground on that field surrounded by dead bodies and dead butterflies.

The reason why he felt like crying when he woke up in a hospital room and saw you sleeping in the uncomfortable chair next to his bed.

You were there because Chris had answered one of your many calls. He didn't want to lie to you, and he figured you already knew about Adrian's identity anyway, so he told you everything. Naturally, you rushed to the hospital, and you never left his side.

When you woke up, you cried and peppered his face with kisses and told him that you cared about him and that you were so worried about him when he wasn't answering your calls.

"I'm not asking you to stop being Vigilante. I would never ask you to do that. I'm just... All I'm asking is that you be more careful. I don't wanna end up having to sit next to your hospital bed for three days straight again. And I don't wanna have to patch you up every couple of days. So please, just be more careful, okay?" You asked, his hand in yours.

He nodded in understanding, but after a moment he glanced up at you with those doe eyes, "....But if I do get injured you'll patch me up, right? Honestly, I don't think I can afford anymore hospital bills and you said yourself that-..."

"Yes, dumbass." You ran your fingers through his hair gently, "I'll patch you up."

"Thank god for that, because sometimes I pick fights with guys a lot bigger than me, or they're smaller than me but they have a weapon so..." He went on explaining, and you just listened to him, glad that he was safe and alive and back by your side.

So yeah. Adrian Chase was in love, and he had no idea how to deal with it.

The weeks following his realisation consisted of him swallowing down 'I love you' left, right and centre. He couldn't begin to count the amount of times he had gotten so close to saying it, to just biting the bullet and laying all of his cards on the table for you to either indulge him or shut him out. The suspense was killing him. He wanted you to know. Needed you to know, even. Yet that small voice at the back of his mind told him to keep it to himself, that you didn't love him back.

But everything you did made him want to get down on his knees and confess his undying love.

Your shoes at his door, walking into your apartment to see you wearing his hoodie that you had proclaimed your favourite, dancing around your kitchen to Britney Spears at 3am. Even the mundane things, like how you would both stand at the sink taking it in turns to wash and dry the dishes, had him literally swallowing down an 'I love you'.

If he was going to tell you, he wanted it to be romantic. In his head he planned to tell you at some fancy restaurant, or on a drive home with the windows open and his hand on your thigh. Any quiet, serene moment between the two of you would have been perfect.

He was balls deep inside of you when it happened, though. Far from ideal, in his opinion.

Adrian was on top of you, grunting and growling with his face nuzzled into your neck as he fucked you like his life depended on it. You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders while you moaned out his name along with praises, telling him how good he felt and how well he takes care of you.

When he came, he came hard. Panting, moaning and grunting against your neck. And then-

"Oh fffuck... I fucking love you."

You stilled underneath him, eyes wide, breathing shakily, trying to figure out whether you had heard him right or whether your imagination was playing tricks on you.

It was only when he came down from the high that he realised what he'd said, and that you hadn't said anything to him in at least a minute.

He pushed himself up slowly, "Shit. Shit. Fuck. Oh, fuck. Fucking fuck. I'm so... I'm so sorry. Fuck. I didn't..." He trailed off. He couldn't tell you that he didn't mean it because holy fuck, he meant it. But then would telling you that he meant it make things worse for him since he had literally told you he loved you while blowing his load inside of you?

So, he did what he did best when he found himself in a situation he saw no way out of.

He slipped his cock out of you and climbed off the bed, quickly putting his clothes back on as he gathered them from your bedroom floor. He had barely even pulled his jeans up before he was pulling your bedroom door open, leaving you laid on your bed, stunned with his spend leaking down your thighs.

You got up after a moment, pulling a shirt on and following him, "Adrian, please don't go! Can we just talk? Please?" But by the time you had made it to the front door, he had already closed it behind him. You brought your hands up to your hair, gripping it tightly, resisting the urge to rip it out then and there.

He had just told you he loved you and then... left? You wanted to scream, to break down, to bash your head on the wall and knock yourself out. Instead, you leant against your door and took a deep breath.

Adrian, on the other hand, was running away from his feelings. No, he literally ran home. As soon as he got out of your apartment building, passing your neighbours and pulling his jacket on as he walked quickly, he ran. Away from your apartment, away from you, away from his feelings. Away from everything.

He didn't see you for weeks after that.

It wasn't that he didn't want to see you. He missed you, and everytime you called he had to fight the urge to pick up the phone just to hear your voice greet him, even just for a few seconds. It was more like he was too embarrassed to see you. He feared what you would say to him. Would you be angry at him for walking out? Would you grill him about why he told you he loved you in that particular moment? He had no idea how you would respond if he was to sit down and talk to you, so he simply avoided you.

Two weeks later, he came home and found the door of his apartment unlocked. He was on guard immediately, reaching into the pocket of his Fennel Fields uniform and grabbing the small knife he carried with him at all times (he bought one for you too... fuck, even knives were reminding him of you).

Adrian pushed the door open slowly, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of an intruder or an attacker. He didn't find one. Instead, to his shock, he found you laid on his couch, bare-legged and wearing only his hoodie.

You sat up straight away, "H-hey. I'm sorry for coming here uninvited. I just... You weren't answered my texts or calls and I got worried, so I asked Chris for your spare key." You shrugged. You figured that there was no way Adrian would let you in willingly. He had done nothing but ignore you for two weeks, so you had no choice but to turn to Chris. He gave up the spare key to Adrian's apartment almost immediately (he honestly seemed a little confused as to why he had it in the first place).

Adrian shook his head, "N-no... No, it's okay. This is fine. You just... I didn't expect to..." He looked down, realising he still had the knife in his hand. "Oh, shit." He dropped the knife, jumping back when it almost fell right on his foot. "I forgot I had that in my hand. I wasn't planning on stabbing you, by the way. I just got it out just in case it wasn't you. Not that I knew it was you. So maybe I was planning on using it. But I wouldn't have been planning to use it if I knew you were here beforehand." He breathed out an awkward laugh, following it up with a quiet, "Sorry."

He didn't know whether to curse Chris or thank him. He was being forced to face his feelings, but he wasn't sure that he would have ever gathered the courage to do it if you weren't right there on his couch.

You smiled at him, "Don't be sorry. I'm the one being kinda creepy. Sneaking in here uninvited. If you stabbed me, I wouldn't be angry. Well, I probably would be angry. But I'd understand."

Adrian nodded, a small smile on his lips, "Yeah."

The two of you just stared at each other in silence for a moment, until you sat up on your knees and patted the spot next to you. "Why don't you come sit?"

"This... This isn't one of those interventions, is it? Because I swear I've only killed half as many people as I used to since the whole butterfly thing. In fact, I would go as far to say that i've been slacking recently, and-..."

"No. This isn't about... whatever the hell you're talking about. Just come sit. Please." You were practically batting your eyelashes at him.

Who was he to resist when you were sitting there looking all pretty in his clothes?

Adrian almost tripped over his feet as he made his way over, sitting down on the couch next to you. He wasn't sure what to say or do, mostly because he wasn't sure what you wanted to say or do.

You didn't let his awkward demeanour deter you.

Slowly, you reached over, your fingertips brushing against the back of his neck. Instinctively, he leaned into your touch, basically moaning when your hand found it's way into his hair, scratching at his scalp gently. "I've missed you, Adrian."

At first, you were angry at him for just walking out like he did. He had told you that he loved you. Sure, he chose a... weird moment to tell you, to say the least, but you were confident that he meant it. But soon your anger turned to sadness, and your sadness turned to longing. You just wanted to see him again, to ask him about that night. To tell him that you loved him too. He didn't make that so easy, though. Now that you were in his apartment, sat next to him, touching him, things felt right again.

You still had a lot to talk about, and you knew how you were going to make him talk, but you were just happy to bask in his company for now.

Adrian glanced over at you, "I-I missed you too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He breathed out.

He was purring under your touch, and you were inching towards him slowly, until you were close enough to use the hand in his hair to turn his head towards yours, pressing your lips against his in a gentle kiss.

What started out slow and gentle soon turned hungry and desperate. He had forgotten just how much he had missed you in the time he'd been away from you. Your lips on his were enough to send him dizzy, and you soon found yourself being pulled on to his lap, straddling him.

Your fingers worked at the buttons of his red shirt, while his hands slipped under the hoodie, caressing your thighs and working their way up to his hips. He let out a gutteral groan when he realised that you weren't wearing underwear.

Your wetness pressed against the rough denim of his black jeans was enough to get him rock hard (then again, it didn't exactly take much to get Adrian excited).

You pulled the shirt down his shoulders, running your hands down his bare, toned chest until your fingers came across the button of his jeans. "I want you, Adrian. Can I...?"

"God, yes. Fuck. Holy shit. Yes." He wasted no time in helping you. You sat up on your knees while he pulled his jeans and boxer briefs down just enough to free his cock, already rosy red and swollen and glistening with pre-cum, ready to take you.

Adrian hadn't touched himself once since the night he left you. Everytime he tried, all he thought about was you, and then he found himself too sad to even think about making himself cum. So now, he was desperately horny, ready to fuck you into next week before you eventually made him talk about feelings and love and all that other shit he would rather avoid.

You slid down on to his cock, and he threw his head back, eyes squeezing shut as he let out a low moan from the back of his throat. "Ffffuck..." The grip he had on on your hips tightened, bruising and harsh as Adrian resisted the urge to thrust into you at a punishing pace.

You let out a breathless moan at the feeling of his cock stretching your walls, delicious and slightly painful but it sends you dizzy and you started to consider maybe just fucking him right there and saving everything else for later. But then you remembered who you were dealing with. So, you rolled your hips once, smirking as he all but lost his mind underneath you, and then you settled down into his lap, his cock twitching inside of you as you cupped his face in your hands and made him look at you.

He looked up at you with wide, doe eyes. His lips parted in confusion and his eyebrows furrowed. "I-... Fuck... What...? What are you doing? I thought we were-... Fuck. Fuck, please."

"Adrian..."

"Fuck. Oh, fuck..." He tried to thrust up into you, his feet planted firmly on the ground and his thighs straining, but you tightened your knees against him. "God... Fuck, I need you. Please-..."

"Adrian, we should talk."

"Talk? Fuck, you wanna talk now?" His voice cracked. "Fuck, fuck. Okay. I can talk. M-my name is Adrian Chase, also known as the crime fighting hero Vigilante. I'm 30 years old. I work at Fennel Fields. My Facebook password is Eaglylovesvig420. Remember to capitalise the E, that's very important. I'm-..."

You giggled, cutting him off. "Not quite what I was looking for, but good effort. I already know your Facebook password, though."

"....You do?"

"Yeah. You mumble in your sleep. It's adorable, actually." You leant down and pressed a kiss to his nose. He looked so fucking cute, and it was taking all of your strength and willpower to hold your hips in place, to not just give him exactly what he wanted.

"W-what did you wanna talk about then?" You were clenched around his cock so good, squeezing him just right. It was driving him insane how good you felt, and how little you were doing about it.

You weren't sure if he was playing dumb or if he was genuinely clueless. "Us, Adrian. We need to talk about us."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Us? What's there to talk about? We're fine. Never been better, actually. We're perfect. Wait-... Fuck, you're not breaking up with me, are you?" He asked, panic in his eyes.

"You've been avoiding me for two weeks. Dude, I thought you broke up with me."

"Oh... Sorry? That's my bad. I was just... I got busy." He wasn't exactly sure what to say about that. How to explain to you that he panicked and figured the best way to deal with his feelings was to run away.

"Did you mean it?" You asked, running your thumb across his cheek.

"M-mean what?"

"When you said you loved me. Did you mean it?"

Silence. Then, a quiet, "Yeah." Followed by more silence, until he broke. "I know I said it at a really bad time since we were having sex and it probably just came across as me telling you that I loved you because you let me come inside of you, which felt fucking amazing, by the way, thank you for that. But I promise it wasn't just the sex and that I did really mean it and you can ask anyone and they'll tell you that I'm in love with you. I'm being serious, even ask Eagly."

You smiled down at him. It was so funny to you how quickly he lost his mind, how easy it was to get him to talk about anything when you were sat in his lap, his cock buried deep inside of you. He hadn't realised that you were weaponising sex against him as a means to get a confession, and if he did realise, then he didn't care.

"Adrian?"

"Huh?" He was looking up at you with wide eyes, so sincere as he waited with baited breath for your response to his confession.

"I love you too."

"....Oh."

"Did you seriously think I didn't love you?"

"I-I don't know... I'm not good with feelings. You probably know that. I kinda ran away from my own feelings. Like... literally ran away. I ran home." He admitted sheepishly, but that made you laugh so his embarrassment soon subsided.

"Well, I love you. And I'm here now, and I'm not planning on going anywhere, even if you try to run away from me again. So..." You spread your knees apart, smiling at the hopeful look in his eyes, "I think you should fuck me good now."

He wasted no time.

One hand on your hip in a tight grip, the other on the back of your neck, holding you up as he snapped his hips up, fucking you at a brutal pace. You balanced yourself, hands on his shoulders, throwing your head back as you let out a broken moan.

You couldn't even think straight as he drilled into you, your mind completely flooded with Adrian and his cock and how good he was making you feel.

When you glanced down at him, he looked how you felt. His hair disheveled, glasses on the end of his nose, his face sweaty and flushed a dark red. His teeth grazed over his bottom lip as he focused on the way his cock disappeared inside of you over and over again.

The gasps and moans in the quiet room were soon interrupted by his voice. He couldn't help it, he had a dirty mouth when he was inside of you.

"Fuckkk... Always feels so fucking good. Love fucking you like this. You look so beautiful... Looking down at me while you take my cock like a good slut. Fuck... My little slut. The slut that I'm in love with. Ffffuck. I'm so in love with you. Tell me you love me." He growled.

"Fuck. Oh, fuck. I love you." You whined out, breathless.

Adrian couldn't help but grin. He was fucking you like a wild animal, in love and unashamed of his feelings. The need to hold himself back, to hide how he really felt about you, was gone. He was yours, he belonged to you completely. He was yours to kiss and hug and hold and fall asleep next to every night. And the best part? You loved him, too. You were his, too.

"Say it again."

"I love you. I love you. Fuck. Oh, Fuck. I'm so in love with you."

That was enough to send him over the edge.

His hips stilled, stuttering up occasionally, and his body writhed under you as came inside of you. His lips parted, eyes squeezed closed and panting while rope after rope of his hot cum coated your walls.

Adrian's grip on the back of your neck loosened, and you collapsed against his chest, his cock softening inside of you. You nuzzled your nose into his neck, whimpering as you tried to catch your breath, peppering gentle kisses over his soft, sweaty skin.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him. He never wanted to let go of you or be apart from you again. "I love you..." He breathed out.

It was crazy to him how easy it was to say those three little words now that he had finally faced his own feelings.

You lifted your head up and gave him the biggest grin, leaning down to press your lips against his, mumbling a barely audible, "I love you too." Against the corner of his mouth before resting your head on his shoulder again.

A few moments of silence, and then...

"Hey, (Y/N)?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Please don't tell anyone my Facebook password. I have some serious progress on Farmville, and I know that if Chris ever found out he'd-..."

Your giggle cut him off and you shook your head, "Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."

••••••••••••••••

Tags!! (sorry if i've missed anyone <3)

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Mine - Jasper Hale (smut)

Request by anon: I love what you write sooooo much! Could you do one with Jasper and possessive sex? Also I think you are my favorite writer on Tumbler! Stay amazing!

Thank you my love, enjoy. xxx

The way his eyes were following her around the room, taking in her every move, wandering down the sides of her dress, made her knees weak. She looked beautiful, the way her dress was perfectly taking on the shape of her body, her eyeshadow made her (y/e/c) eyes pop, lips tinted in a darker red color. 

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BBY YES. I’m a curvy girl too and MY GAWD boxer daddy dom losing a match or having a rough match and taking it out on the reader is just *chefs kiss* boxer Steve has NO issue lifting us plus size girlies and taking us against a wall 🤤 I just love your writing and I think you doing boxer Steve would be AMAZING

In Your Corner (Boxer Steve X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: Boxer Steve invaded my dreams and now consumes my waking life. Fuck I need him. Lol.

I hope I did your ask justice!

Warnings: Daddy Dom Boxer Steve and Plus Size Sub Reader and all that implies (I regret nothing!), SMUT and angst, hella dirty talk, degradation (slightly), spanking, choking, pinching, rough play for sure, there's no details of the fight but there are mentions of the aftermath, slight bullying at the beginning with Steve's friends. I think that's it.

Word Count: 4449

Steve’s eyes focused on his coach in front of him as he danced around the man preparing to swing. You absolutely loved watching him train right before a fight. He was always dedicated to the craft but he became more determined right before and the passion drove you wild. 

When you both attended high school together, he always seemed like a douchebag with his “King Steve” status. You ran in a different circle, which was mostly any circle that wasn’t the popular kids. They always found ways of making fun of you because you had a little more meat on your bones than they did. You did take note at the time that Steve never taunted you with them but he never stopped them either. 

“Fuck off, Steve Harrington.”

“Hey, would you just relax?! I just wanted to come apologize for Tommy and them. You’re not a pig and you’re definitely not ugly.”

“Wow, thanks for that. Now I can die happy. If you will excuse me, I have to go find my journal and put our initials together in hearts.”

As you turned to walk away, his hand shot out to grip your arm, tugging you back towards the concrete wall. 

“Would you wait a minute! I’m…I’m trying to tell you something here. I…I’m not like them. I want to get to know you better.”

Your sarcastic laugh lights a fire in his eyes that you would later come to fall in love with. 

“Steven, whether you like it or not, you are exactly like them. You laugh along with them and don’t stop them from being mean to people. You hang out with them and give them your time like they matter. I imagine your dad is the same with colleagues; pretending that he cares about stupid, menial bullshit just to fit in.”

His head ticked to the side at your comparison to his father as you stepped closer to his towering frame. 

“You want to get to know me better? Become a real man and stand up for yourself. BE yourself.”

After that moment, he completely changed, disconnecting from his friends, and focusing on other things. You found him in the library a few times scanning certain books or at the computer looking up videos. After graduation, he disappeared before finally resurfacing a year later at a party one of your old high school friends was hosting. 

At the time, you had a date on your arm but as soon as Steve entered the room it was like no one was there except for you and him. His smile was brighter and he had a lot more muscle than you remember him having especially in his arms. When his beautiful brown irises met yours, you knew it was all over. You’d do anything for him, all he had to do was ask. You tried playing coy, you really did; smirking salaciously in his direction or crossing and uncrossing your legs a bit wider than normal to display the red silk panties underneath. 

When all he would do in return is tilt his head and grin at you, it riled you up, huffing as you stomped away to the bathroom. Before you could do anything about it, Steve followed you in, attaching his lips to yours as he quite literally ripped your panties of your body. You marveled at his strength as he lifted you onto the bathroom counter and sunk his admittedly large cock into your cunt. 

“Oh my god, Steve. So—f-fuck—so deep.”

“Fuck, baby. Your pussy is just making a mess, you’re so wet.” He grabbed your hair and forced you look between your bodies. “Look at how you just fucking coat my dick.” Once he felt like you had gotten a good enough look, he pressed your face into his shoulder as he thrust his hips faster into yours. “That’s right, honey. Fucking—mmm—fucking hold on to Daddy while I make you cum.”

Your pussy clenched tighter around him at the name and he grunted at the feeling. 

“Yeah? You like that, pretty girl? God, you feel so fucking good. Cum on Daddy’s cock, Y/N.”

Your nails dug into the shirt on his back as the coil snapped and you whimpered into his chest. 

“That’s it, baby. Good girl. Such a good girl coming hard like that.”, he murmured. One of his palms landed flat beside you as the other clung to your lower back as rolled his hips. “Fuck—I’m gonna cum inside you.”

Steve wasn’t asking; he was telling you what he was about to do and at that moment you really didn’t care. The hand on the counter flew up to grip your throat, pushing you back against the mirror as he roughly pumped his seed into your body.

When he released you from his hold and helped clean you up, you half expected him to leave you there alone in the bathroom, walking back out into the party as a satisfied man. Instead, he took your hand and guided you towards his BMW offering to buy you dinner. 

That night he told you where he had been and what he had been up to. Steve left Hawkins to train and study boxing. You couldn’t help but giggle, knowing this was the same kid who lost almost every fight in school. He smirked in your direction as if he could read your mind and invited you to his next fight which was just outside of town. 

Watching him up there as he fought was a unique experience to be sure. He changed before your eyes into this more confident, determined man as he focused on his opponent and swung his arms. After winning, you brought him back to your apartment where you two barely even made it in the door before you were climbing on top of him.

“Can I ask you something?”, you asked and he answered with a soft but exhausted hm. “What triggered this? What made you say, ‘I’m going to leave Hawkins and get hit in the face for a living’?”

Steve rolled onto his side to face you as he reached out to brush some stray hair out of your face. 

“Short answer…you.”

“And the long answer?”

“When you compared me to my dad and talked about me trying to impress those other assholes, it triggered something in me. I definitely don’t want to become my dad and I hated the way you looked at me when you said I was just like those other kids. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I did some research and came across boxing. Y/N, you have no idea how liberating it was for me when I threw that first punch and hit the bag in front of me.”

Your fingers tenderly caressed his face as his own hand slid down your back to bring you closer to him. 

“I always thought about you. I told myself whenever I came back here my first goal was to find you and FINALLY get to know you better.”, he chuckled.

You smiled as you blushed as his words. “What if I had been with someone!?”

“Pfft. Then I would fight him.” Steve leaned back and pretended to box the air making you laugh.

“Or what if I saw you and I was like ‘Ew. Look at the god-awful Steve Harrington! With the muscles and the pretty hair. Ugh!” His lips cut you off mid-cackled as he rolled his body on top of yours. 

“Then I’d fight for you. You’re mine, pretty girl.” The way his eyes were penetrating yours had you shiver at the intensity. His face hovered as his nose grazed the tip of your own. “Can you say it for me, honey?”, he whispered, your eyes fluttering closed as he trailed kisses down to your neck. 

“I belong to you.”, you moaned as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“Mmm…you belong to who, baby girl?”

“I belong to Daddy.”

Three years had passed since then and you couldn’t be happier or prouder of everything Steve had accomplished. Next Friday was supposed to be a big fight. If he won, it would lead to more eyes on him which in turn would lead to more revenue. 

“Hey, Y/N. How are you doing today, angel.”

“I’m good, Jimmy. How are you?”, you beam at his coach. 

“Oh, never better, baby. Never better.” As you climb up the ropes to hang over the ring, Steve hastily runs over to you as he pulls off one of his gloves and helps you into the area. “Do you want some gloves, missy? Give Steve here some real competition.”

You giggle as your boyfriend tilts your head up for a kiss. “God, no. He’d knock me out in a second.”

“What’s the matter, honey? Scared?”, Steve teases. 

You playfully glare at him as Jimmy brings you some gloves that are your size and places you across from him. You both do the gloved fist bump you’ve seen him do with opponents numerous times and take your stance. 

Steve smirks as you circle around each other and after a few moments you take your first swing that he swiftly blocks. Both your moves at each other are light and joking, not in any way meant to harm. 

“That’s good, baby girl. You have to twist your arm a bit more.” You concentrate as he shows you the move and once you follow through, he claps his gloves together making you smile with pride. “That’s my girl!”

You grin as you fall into his chest and he pretends to fall over bringing you down with him. 

“Let’s hope you do better than that on Friday, yeah?”, Jimmy asks as Steve nods. “Alright, I’m out of here. Harrington, I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon for our last training session and talk strategy for the fight, alright?”

“Thanks, Jim!”

“You are…disgustingly sweaty.”

Steve turns his attention back to you as you lean forward to grab his wrists and remove his gloves. 

“Yet you’re still on top of me.”

“I’m doing it to hide the gigantic erection in your shorts right now.”, you whisper.

“Hey, it’s not my fault when you walk into the room, I get all hot and bothered.” Once his hands are free, he rests one on your thigh as the other comes up to caress your cheek. “Did you have a good day today?”

“I did. My boss was only half an idiot today.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to talk to him?”

“Yes, Daddy. I’m sure.” You grin leaning down so your lips are just above his own. “I can handle one stupid, ignorant man.”

“I know you can, sweetheart. I just hate the way he talks to you. He better hope he doesn’t say any bullshit in front of me.”

“Oh, big tough Daddy. I like it.” 

Steve smiles as his hand glides to the back of your neck and roughly brings your face closer to his. “You know you love when Daddy takes care of you.”

You bite your bottom lip as he begins grinding hips up against your own. 

“Do you wanna take care of Daddy while he takes a shower? Say it.”, he commands when you nod your head.

“I want to take care of you. Please, Daddy. Let me help you relax.”

His grin grows as you both rise to your feet and he helps you down from the ring. As soon as his feet touch the floor, he lifts you into his arms, and you giggle as he carries you into the empty locker room. 

############

The night of the fight came and Steve was more than ready. You stayed by his side until exactly an hour before he was meant to exit to the ring, kissing his lips before hugging him tightly to you. 

“Good luck, baby. You got this.”

He curtly nodded as you gave him one last comforting smile. You understood he had a process and this was usually how he was before a fight. He was zoned in and prepared, ready to take on the world. 

As the ushers walked you to your seat in the front, you froze when you saw who was sitting beside you. 

“Hey, Y/N! How are you, sweetheart?”, Mrs. Harrington cooed as she got to her feet to give you a hug. 

“I’m…I’m good. What are you two doing here?”

“This is a big fight, right? I don’t know why my son didn’t invite us. ‘You can watch it on TV he says.’”, Mr. Harrington rolls his eyes.

As the announcer began to speak, you panickily looked around, trying to figure out what you should do. He never had his phone on him on nights like this and the match was about to start so you couldn’t go back to the locker room. 

Please don’t let him notice them.

Steve entered the ring with his usual bout of confidence that made you swoon. You continued to pray as you watched them introduce him and rattle off some of his stats. His eyes found yours for a moment before he looked beside you. Your heart shattered into a million pieces when you watched this version of him and the high school version have their own fight within his beautiful, brown orbs as they noticed his father. 

When his focus shifted back to you, you silently mouthed that you loved him, and again he nodded before the match finally began. 

***

Steve angrily stalked into the apartment you two shared and headed for the kitchen, grabbing a glass, and filling it with the hardest liquor there was. Your eyes carefully watched him as he moved about, finally stomping outside onto the patio, and lighting a cigarette. 

Nights after a lost match were always the worst, you never knew how he was going to behave. Sometimes he would do like he had just done and sit outside for hours smoking and drinking till he passed out on the furniture. Other times, he would take that anger out on you and you allowed it. You allowed him to be rough with you in bed till you both were fully spent. Even when he was upset, he needed to make you feel good to. 

More than anything you just hated how hard he was on himself. He always gave 110% in everything he did but it wasn’t enough for him. If he lost at something he was a failure and there was nothing you could say or do to make him feel otherwise. 

Normally, you left him to his thoughts but you couldn’t do that tonight. You knew he was in a lot of pain, not just physically but emotionally as well. Slowly, you stepped outside and tiptoed to the other chair that was next to him. 

Steve was leaning back lazily with his legs stretched all the way out as he held the cold glass to the bandage just above his eye. Occasionally, he brought the cigarette to his busted lip before dangling it back over the arm of the patio chair. 

“Baby…”

“Go away, Y/N.”

You heavily exhale as you try again. “Sweetheart, you did really well. Don’t let your dad or anyone else make you feel like you didn’t do a good job.” As you spoke, he casually got up, tossing his cigarette, and walked back inside. “There will be other fights like this one.”

“Y/N, I’m only going to say it one more time. Get…away…from…me.”

“No.” His head leaned to the side at your answer. “Baby, everything’s going to be okay.”

Steve sarcastically chuckled, taking another sip of his drink before abruptly raising his arm and violently throwing his glass against the adjacent wall. 

“You wanna play, baby girl. Let’s play. First off, fuck you. Don’t stand there and pretend like you understand anything when it comes to boxing or my job, alright? You are my girlfriend not my coach or my manager. Your job is to stand by my side and shut the fuck up while I do what I need to do.”

Oh, that’s how he wants to play tonight? He had just entered another ring and you were the challenger. He needed to spar with you and he knew you were a worthy opponent. You knew how to challenge him and you didn’t take his attitude or temper lying down. He needed you to put him in his place so he could properly put you in yours. 

“Secondly, we needed this fucking win tonight. You like this apartment, the pool, that fucking outfit you’re wearing? All of that cost money, Y/N.”

“I see…so this is all my fault? I’m the one that wants expensive things apparently? I’m not some gold-digging trophy wife, Steve. I work and I help pay for things around here. I have never once asked you to buy me anything extravagant because I don’t fucking need it. And yes, I am your girlfriend but I actually fucking listen to you when you talk. You will have more fights. If you wanted a girl who would be silent and just swipe your credit card, you should have looked somewhere else!”

He fumed as you yelled at him, his fists clenching by his side as he listened and his angry eyes never leaving yours. You pointed your finger in his face as you stepped closer to him. 

“You can blame me all you want, Steve Harrington, but you needed to win that fight for you and your fucking ego.”

“Take off your dress.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said…take off your dress. You don’t need these nice things anymore? That’s fine. I can return that and the other fancy things I bought you. Tomorrow when I wake up, I can go look for one of those studio apartments for you so you can move in there.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I don’t need you to help me look. I can find a new Daddy on my own who won’t act like a fucking baby.”

There it is. That particular look in his eyes that tells you he’s in the right headspace. He may not look like he’s in control to any outsider looking in but you’ve been in love with his man for three years. You knew. 

You two stared at each other for a few seconds before you turned and bolted to the bedroom. You could hear him hot on your tail before he practically tackled you onto the bed. Your hands tried to push against him but he was too strong, straddling your waist as he pinned your wrists to the mattress. 

“You want to find a new Daddy? HUH?!”, he screamed in your face. “You think someone else can take care of you as well as I have?” Steve shifted your hands so he could hold them with one of his own he climbed off you and reached under your dress to bring down your panties. A couple of his fingers roughly slid into your core as he set a brutal pace. 

“Little girl always talks a big game but when we get down to it, you’re always still so fucking wet for me.” Your eyes squeezed shut as you moaned, still trying to fight against hold but not wanting him to let go. You buck your hips but it just pushes him to be rougher as he curls his fingers inside of you. “There you go, baby. That’s the spot right there, right? Daddy knows. I know every fucking inch of your body and how to please you. You think anyone else can make you cum like I do?”

His palm released your wrists and quickly slid down your throat, gripping it just so between his thick fingers as he watched your eyes roll back. Your hands feebly reach for anything they can, settling on taking hold of his knee. Steve always made sure to have some part of his body near you that way if you couldn’t speak but felt like you needed to tap out you could. 

Just like with his boxing, he had rules and regimens in bed. He always wanted you to feel safe and gave you strict guidelines for how to get his attention should you need to. Three taps meant stop but right now all you were doing was grounding yourself as you focused on your own high. 

You whimpered, digging your nails into his skin as you came. While you laid there panting, he climbed over your limp frame and yanked off your dress. With hooded eyes you watched as he removed his clothes before tugging you to the edge of the mattress like a ragdoll and flipping you onto your stomach. 

His strength always amazed (and intimated) you. Being a bigger woman, you weren’t exactly light and all the men in your past never even bothered to try lifting you into their arms. When Steve did it that first night you were together, you were awe struck. More than anything, you swooned at the fact that he didn’t even hesitate; he just did it knowing he could.

The first time you questioned him about it he looked at you like you were speaking gibberish. 

“Honey, you’re not heavy.”

“Uh oh, I think you’ve been hit one too many times. You’re going blind.”, you giggle.

Steve grinned slightly before his face got serious. “Y/N, just because past relationships couldn’t handle a beautiful woman like you doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you.”

“I know. I just…no one’s ever even bothered to try and lift me let alone everything else we do.”

He stepped forward and lifted your chin with his fingers. “You have a real man now, baby. You and your curves don’t scare me.”

You smile, lifting up on your toes to kiss his lips. “You don’t scare me either.”

His rough, calloused hands lifted your hips and spread your ass cheeks apart before his palm came down hard as he spanked you. You moaned when you felt him spit into your cunt before aggressively breaching your entrance with his cock. 

“Daddy!”

Steve’s arm came into view beside you as you felt him hover over you and begin rolling his hips. 

“You want to act like a fucking brat, I can…I can treat you like one.”, he grunted. “No more fucking dinners, fa-fancy clothes, fucking nothing! You—f-fuck—can just be Daddy’s toy. Huh? At least until you find your new Daddy who’s not a fucking baby.”

His fingers gripped your hair as he stood up and thrust into you so hard the bed shook underneath you.

Your eyes fluttered closed as he continually hit all the right places inside of you, overwhelming your senses. Tears began streaking your face as you felt the warmth build in your tummy again. He really was the only man that knew how to satisfy you. 

He noticed your lips moving but couldn’t hear what you were saying. Steve’s palm smacked your ass as he yanked you to your knees till your back was against his now sweaty chest. 

“What’s the rule?”, he growled “If you’re talking I…I need to fucking hear you. What were you saying?” When you don’t answer, he stops pumping into you before reaching down to pinch your clit between his fingers making you whine and try to pull away from him. “Answer me, little girl.”

Your head lazily falls back on his shoulder as you continue to cry. The hand that was in your hair loops around to your chin, turning your lips to his as he softly placed a kiss on them. 

“I love…you… Just want…you.”, you panted out as best you could. 

Steve released your nub from his grasp and wrapped his arm around you stomach as he began thrusting into you again. 

“Cum, baby. Cum for Daddy.” You laid your arms over his own, clinging to him as your body spasmed and you did as he commanded. “That’s my girl. Fuck… my beautiful girl.”

As he chased his high, you continued to try and whisper things in his ear. 

“MY…Daddy. No one could…make me…feel this good. I’m…oh my god… so proud of you, baby. Please…cum, Daddy. I need…need it.”

His hips began to sputter and he grips you tightly as he roughly pumps his release inside of you. You both were still like that for a while, trying to catch your breath as he held you. 

“I’m going to pull out now, ok?”, he whispered.

“Okay, Daddy.”

You winced as he cooed softly, placing feathery light kisses on your skin as he praised you. He detached from you for moment; long enough for you to hear the shower turn on before he was back by your side and lifting you into his arms. 

Steve wasted no time taking care of you as he cleaned your body and washed your hair. 

“I DO listen to you when you talk. One of the things I love about you is how passionate you about boxing. I remember in school you always seemed like, I don’t know, you were coasting by. On our first date, you told me about the maneuvers and explained things to me.”, you smile as you continued. “Your hands were moving a mile a minute and your eyes lit up. It was amazing.”

His fingers lightly gripped your shoulders as he turned you to face him. “I may not know everything about it, Steve, but I know you. I know there will be another fight and I know you’re going to win because you are the most dedicated man I’ve ever met. You’re not going to stop until you get where you want to be.”

He pulled you into his arms, pressing your cheek to his chest as he kissed the top of your head.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you and said all that stuff. I don’t really feel that way. I was just upset.”

“I know, baby.”

After turning off the water, he quickly grabs a towel, drying you both and guiding you back to bed. Steve grabs his boxers and throws one of his big, baggy shirts over your head making you laugh. 

“I love that you speak your mind and challenge me. Hell, if you hadn’t done that in school, I never would have gotten into boxing.”

“I’m so proud of you, Steve. I really am. Whether you win or lose, buy me fancy things or give me gifts from the dollar store…” Your smile grows as he laughs and kneels down in front of you, laying his head on your thighs as you gently pet his head. “I’m always going to be in your corner.”

Take It Like A Puppy (M)

Summary: You and Hoseok have been best friends since you were young. Your friendship with him, was struck as odd since you were a cat hybrid, while he was a dog hybrid. But that didn’t matter, that is until you both start attending university. What happens when one of you unexpectedly goes into heat?

Pairing: Jhope x Reader

Genre: Smut (M), hybrid!au, Cat hybrid reader, Dog hybrid Jhope

Word Count : 5.5k

A/N: This story contains graphic descriptions of sex, cum play, bondage, oral, etc. Heavy dom/sub undertones. Lmao this is just a sinful read. I’m a sucker for hybrid aus, so i had to make one ;) Anywho, this is a mature read! You have been warned!

You’ve known Hoseok since you were nine years old. At the time, you were just a quiet little kitten, who didn’t have many friends. Hoseok, was an annoying hyperactive puppy, who everybody adored in your class. He didn’t really bother you that much, until you became desk partners. That’s when he thought it was okay to pop your ‘personal space bubble’ and sniff you, every second he got.

“Why do you keep trying to smell me!” the nine-year-old you shouted. This was the third time you caught him in the act, ever since you became seat mates a week ago.

“I’m part canine! That’s what we always do!” Hoseok explained, with a smile on his face. He didn’t really know you that much, only that you were always super quiet. But he wanted to change that, he wanted a feline as a friend for once.

“Well can you stop? Its kinda weird,” you replied uncomfortably.

Including you, there were only two other cat hybrids in your class, the rest were a split between bunny, dog, and fox hybrids. Thus, you were extremely uncomfortable with this puppy trying to get up all in your space. Besides, you were quite afraid of dog hybrids since they could become aggressive easily.

“No, you’re weird,” the puppy joked.

You finally turn to glare at him, then let a hiss seethe through your teeth.

Keep reading

Piss Off Your Parents

Piss Off Your Parents Ship: BadBoy!Jungkook | RichGirl!Reader Description: Roommates!AU | BadBoy!AU | FakeDating!AU | In an effort to piss off your parents you move in with their worst nightmare- a boy with tattoos, a rock band, and an irresistible charm. Warnings: Dom!JK, Daddy Kink, D/S Themes, Spanking, Pussy Spanking, Intercourse, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Creampie, Fingering, Oral, Multiple Orgasms, Squirting, Size Kink, Hair Pulling, Praise Kink, Lots of Pet Names, Angst, Fluff, Drug Use (it’s just weed) Word Count: 16,411 A/N: Based on the song 18 by Anarbor! This ends my hiatus! I’ve been writing this for literal months so I hope you guys like it. Happy Early 3rd Year Anniversary!

Keep reading

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell series index

Summary: When you were ten, Taehyung adopted you and gave you a home. Now that you’re eighteen, the sudden change in your scent perplexes and confounds him.

Pairing: wolf hybrid!tae x human!reader (all bts members are hybrids)

Warnings: smut | talk of ownership (reader is tae’s pet human) | daddy long legs syndrome | extensive discussion about the dynamics of consent | will add as i go along

A/N: This is finally done!! When I started this I really didn’t think it would become such a massive fic, both in terms of wc or popularity, and I’m glad it was well-received. if you enjoyed this series, please consider buying me a coffee! 🥰🌺

Final word count: 63k

Chapter 1 

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4 

Chapter 5 - final

Taeil, to camera: Johnny is our master horticulturist. He knows all the scientific names for everything. Right, John?

Johnny: Yup.

Taeil: Like this! What’s this?

Johnny: Those are, of course, tomatoes. Or, Soulja-Boy Tell'ems.

Johnny, to camera: Whenever Taeil asks me for the Latin names of any of our plants, I just give him the names of rappers.

Taeil: And those over there?

Johnny: Those are some Diddies, some Bonethugs and Harmoniums right here. Oh, those Ludacrises are coming in great!