#//sorry I went off a bit there that was longer than I intended

[beautifulsavagegarden]

Okay, so, let's put the brakes on for a second and consider. Lestat has lost his family in a way that Louis hasn't. His brothers were killed in the Revolution, his mother abandoned him and he doesn't even know if they are still alive and if they are then they care so little about him that they won't even give any indication that they are still alive. His father is obviously gone too and the family that he found in Nicolas and, to a lesser degree, the troupe at Renault's are also long gone. He has been alone for longer than he finds bearable at this stage in his life. He was cast out after meeting Akasha and now he has found the love of his existence who is tormented by the change in his relationship with his mortal family. Lestat understands that pain and he tries to help Louis through it, he tries to remind him that they are together and they are family to each other. For Louis to then yell that he lost his family, to essentially reject Lestat is so painful to him. It's utterly heartbreaking because here he is faced with, once again, losing his family. To have come so close to that and instead having a daughter, evil of his evil, and for Louis himself to say that they are; it restores a concept of family that both Lestat and Louis had been searching for. Lestat thinks to himself that this is it and this will make everything better for them all and that he will be happy, that this family won't be torn from him and he won't be alone again.

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE 1x2 | 1x3 | 1x4

[gothgoblinbabe]

The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony (pt.2)

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fem reader, soft dom!Logan, good ol’ face sittin’, sloppy oral (m receiving), swearing, use of pet names - babydoll, sweetheart, pretty girl - teeth rottingly sweet fluff, emotional(?) sex, mild angst, i think thats it but if there’s any more pls lmk!

Read pt.1 here

Summary: part 2 is finally here! I’ll be honest i think the majority of it is smut, but if you’re not interested in reading that, you can stop at the point where you and Logan drive home from the restaurant :) <3 this is probably the most detailed nsfw thing i’ve ever written so it’s a lil’ longer than what i’d usually write for smut but I really wanted to deliver on this one.

Taglist: @deardo11 @pastelpinkflowerlife @joyfulpeanutsalad @jonesem11 @carollinnasic @likeficsinthewnd @mrs-ephemeral 

Word Count: 9.5K

divider credit here and here

It had been about a month since the whole ordeal with Logan - the exchanging of fake rings, sweet nicknames and kissing in the driveway - and to everyone else, it seemed like nothing had changed.

You’d still taunt each other during training, bicker over the small things and butt heads on almost everything, but it was all accompanied by stolen kisses in empty hallways, nights on the roof spent stargazing and small, sweet moments in between. You were going to come out with it - tell the team what had been going on behind closed doors - but truthfully, you were both fearful of the possible outcomes. What if this didn’t work out? What, you’d go back to hating each other - for real this time? So you kept it hushed, intending to give the new ‘relationship’ - a word neither of you used, yet - a sort of trial run. Neither of you admitted it aloud but you knew this way, if it really wasn’t meant to be, it could save you the embarrassment of admitting you were both wrong.

As the days went on, though, it became harder for either of you to keep up the act and even more difficult to keep your secret. You came close to being caught more often, having to stutter out an excuse each time. Jean and Ororo still knew what was going on - having been the ones to greet you in the hall when you’d gotten back from that dinner party - but gave you their word that it would stay a secret. The former of the two even feigned surprise when Scott mentioned he thought he saw you nearly kiss Logan in the kitchen, insisting he must've been seeing things.

You’d been washing some dishes and handing them off to him to dry and put away, both of you alone in the kitchen after dinner. 

“Hey, do you wanna come up to my room in a little bit? Maybe watch a movie?” he offered in a low voice, standing so close that your arms touched.

Neither of you had actually had the chance to be alone like that yet and the idea made your stomach erupt in butterflies.

“Hm - If I didn’t know any better, Logan,” you chuckled, “I’d think you have some ulterior motive.”

“And If I did?”

Your cheeks hurt from smiling and you rolled your eyes.

“C’mon,” he cooed, “what do you think?”

You were looking up at him, your noses inches apart as he leaned down further. One of his hands came to rest on your lower back.

“Hey, guys, have you seen my - “

Scott’s voice echoed through the kitchen and you both jumped, Logan trying to put distance between you and nearly tripping over his feet in the process. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck and you kept your eyes glued to the dishes in the sink.

“Uh,” Scott tilted his head, “have you guys…seen my phone?”

“Nope,” Logan was quick to reply, drying and putting away dishes now like it was his job.

“Um, no - sorry,” you shook your head.

“Hm…okay,” Scott mumbled, clearly suspicious of whatever it was he’d just seen. You both exchanged a look of panic when he left the room.

“That was close,” you huffed, returning to the task at hand.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “and he’s probably the last one we want to find out - Summers is a blabber mouth.”

You knew exactly what he meant. If you told Scott anything, he couldn’t keep it to himself. One time Jean had tried to plan a surprise party for your birthday and you already knew about it before she could even pick the decorations.

Jean and Ororo had thankfully kept their word, though. It was damn near torture for them to keep from shouting the truth aloud every time you got into your usual spats. The sly jokes, however, were another story.

“Will you two just kiss already?” Jean had blurted when you were pelting each other with beanbags during an outdoor game of cornhole. 

Ororo wasn’t any better. 

She was sitting next to you at dinner one night, Logan across from you. Everyone was chatting about their days or telling stories and she volunteered you to share.

“Anything new happening with you? You seem extra happy lately,” she was grinning.

Your eyes darted to Logan and then back to her, taking a deep inhale.

“Uh, nothin’ - nothin’ new,” you swallowed, "just happy.”

Logan was smiling to himself, his gaze focused on his dinner.

After everyone had finished dinner and vanished off to their rooms, he stopped you at the bottom of the staircase.

“Hey,” he nervously scanned the hallway while gnawing on his bottom lip, “can you meet me in the garden out back in fifteen minutes? I wanna show you somethin’.”

“Sure,” you nodded, “but the ‘something’ better not be beef jerky and a picnic blanket - which, by the way, is not a date.”

He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, a contradiction to the smile tugging at his lips.

“That was one damn time - you’re still mad about that?”

“Eh - not really, but I am gonna mention it in every argument we will ever have,” you joked.

“Oh, shut up, ya’ brat.”

 You giggled and he beamed at the sound, already undeniably smitten with you. He’d never been so sure of any other feeling in his life. Your serene voice, your perfect hair, the smell of your perfume, the way you walked, the way you laughed and smiled - it was all things he’d taken notice of before but chose to bury within himself, terrified of whatever it was that had given you so much power over him. 

Set on trying to impress you, he’d gone around the garden that morning and picked a couple flowers out of each different plant he saw. He felt a little ridiculous - his six foot frame and two hundred pound body towering over a bed of tulips and daffodils - but he reminded himself this was for you; to see that smile on your face that could bring him to his knees. He had fallen for you and he fell fast. He didn’t know when he’d truly realized it - maybe during one of your midnight conversations or during one of the movie nights when you made yourself comfortable under his arm - but it was a feeling so intense that he’d never experienced anything like it before. He’d never had that ache in his chest, the pain of wanting someone so badly that it physically hurts; the twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach when he thought of losing you, the way the thump of his heartbeat became so much louder and faster when he caught even a glimpse of you. Weeks ago, he probably would’ve made fun of the poor sap who was acting just as he was - like a lovesick dog on your leash - but he found himself finally starting to embrace the idea that there was someone for him in the way there was for Jean and Scott or Marie and Bobby. Maybe it wasn’t all permanent - nothing ever was - but whatever connection he had developed with you was one of the only things that he thought of first thing in the morning and right before he went to bed at night.

After what felt like the longest fifteen minutes of your life, you made your way outside and to the well kept garden. You admired every variation of flower in bloom while you walked, taking in the peaceful atmosphere of the garden in the moonlight. You planted yourself in the middle of the extensive displays of flora, nervously rocking back and forth on your heels. You scanned the landscape and that’s when you spotted him. 

Logan was making his way towards you and even through the darkness, you could see the bright arrangement of flowers held in his hands. Your heart felt like it swelled so much with adoration that it was going to burst. He’d done this for you, went out and handpicked every flower. Receiving so much affection from him was unusual, in a good way. Recently, he’d absentmindedly begun holding your hand in his at times, talking away while his fingers intertwined with yours like it was second nature. He’d play with your hair, kiss your cheek, embrace you from behind, even pull you onto his lap so you could nuzzle into his chest. Even when you weren’t alone, he was having trouble keeping himself off of you. He’d place a guiding hand on the small of your back or let his touch linger when your fingers brushed up against each other - small things, almost unnoticeable. It was a stark contrast to his behavior weeks before and you couldn’t have been happier. 

“These are for you,” Logan held the bouquet in front of you, pointing at some of the bulbs, “a couple of ‘em might be a little bent - I may have accidentally yanked ‘em out of the ground with more force than I needed to.”

You were beaming, your hands on your cheeks in excitement and surprise.  You delicately took the arrangement of flowers from him, admiring the beautiful ribbon that kept them together. Jean had helped with that, of course.

“Oh, Logan,” you pouted, “these are beautiful!”

“I wanted to give you somethin’ nice, y’know - after being such an asshole for so long,” he shoved his hands in his pockets. 

You knitted your eyebrows, “you didn’t have to, you know.”

He shook his head, waving a hand dismissively, “c’mon, none of that, princess. You deserve ‘em.”

Your heart felt like it would jump out of your chest whenever he’d call you sweet names. He’d called you princess before, sure, but only to tease you. The way he said it now was affectionate, as if to say you really were a princess in his eyes. You were head over heels for him already but you held your tongue, fearful that it was far too soon to admit something like that. The last thing you wanted to do was drive him away and lose the only relationship you’d had in years that made you absolutely lovesick to the point of losing sleep.

“I wanted to, uh - I wanted to tell you something, too,” he began, resting his hands on your waist. He seemed a little nervous with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

“So, tell me,” you smiled up at him. You’d be lying if you said you weren't a little nervous yourself, picking up on his hesitation.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, standing up straight and keeping his eyes trained on yours.

“I love you.”

You only blinked in response, lips parted in surprise.

“You don’t have to say it back if you don’t - “

“I love you - I love you, too.”

It was like letting go after holding your breath for so long, a sense of relief that couldn’t compare to anything else.

A wide grin crept onto his face, one he couldn’t hold back even if he tried. Your expression mirrored his - complete adoration for one another.

He was staring down at you the same way he had during dinner that night you first kissed. You’d wondered since then what it was, what made his pupils dilate when his eyes focused on yours or why he would tuck his lip between his teeth. You knew now that it was love.

“It’s gonna be even harder now to keep this - us - a secret,” he mumbled in a low voice. He brought his hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He cupped your cheek after, unable to keep his hands off you.

“Well,” you bit the inside of your cheek, “we could tell them? Tell everyone, I mean.”

“Do you think you’re ready? I mean - not that I'm not ready, but I don't want you to feel rushed into anything.”

Your knees could’ve buckled right then and there at how truly sweet he was with you. You took his words into consideration and had a realization.

“We haven’t even really figured out what we are yet. What would we tell them?”

He nodded solemnly, grazing his thumb over your cheekbone, “Yeah, you’re right.”

You hoped this would be it - this would be the moment he finally told you that you were his girlfriend, you were something - but he gave a small smile and dropped his hand from your face.

“It’s getting late, we should get back before anyone notices we’re gone.”

You simply nodded, clearing your throat to replace the exasperated sigh you were about to let out.

You followed him on the way back, mind racing for the entirety of the short walk and drowning out anything Logan was saying. You wondered if he’d ever ask you that one question at all. Maybe he’d said he loved you to keep you hanging on, wrapped around his finger. Maybe it was meant to be casual and you’d misunderstood. 

But there was a bouquet of flowers in your hands. You’d fallen asleep on his chest more times than you could count, held hands at any moment you could and he did just tell you he loved you. So, maybe he did mean it.

As you snuck down the hallway to your bedroom with the arrangement of flowers, you wondered how long you’d have to keep this a secret.

Unbeknownst to you, it wouldn't be much longer.

It all came to a head when the team decided to go out to dinner together, settling on some chain restaurant. You’d coincidentally ended up next to Logan in the large booth, the both of you on the very end of the table. You were all reading from the menus and Marie piped up from across the table.

“Honey, do you wanna switch seats?”

She was talking to you. You didn't look up from the laminated paper in your hands, responding automatically without a second thought.

“Nah, I'm fine.”

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and looked at Bobby, who only shrugged. You two never sat next to each other, usually bickering so intensely that you’d be asked to shut up or leave the table. 

The unusual interaction was soon forgotten when your drinks were brought over, the waitress placing them in front of each of you. She was pretty and her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Logan being on the very end made him the closest in proximity to her and you being so close meant that you could hear her hushed voice when she leaned down before she walked away.

“And here, this is for you.”

She slid a napkin onto the table, your eyes automatically drawn to the movement. There was a clear phone number written in ink, her name scribbled underneath next to a smiley face.

Everyone at the table had noticed the interaction and waited for Logan to speak after she walked away. Instead, they watched in curiosity as he silently slid the napkin under his drink, the ink bleeding immediately from the condensation on the outside of his glass.

“Okay, what's up with you?” Scott questioned from across the table.

Logan raised his eyebrows, “I don’t know, what's up with you?”

“I asked you first.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Marie chimed in then, leaning forward with her elbows on the table to interrogate him, “you always take girls’ numbers when they give ‘em to you. Why not hers?”

He shrugged, “just not interested.”

“I call bullshit.”

“Watch the language, kid.”

“Whatever, you’re so full of it!”

You pretended to be uninterested in the conversation, folding your napkin into unrecognizable shapes. 

“You know what? I think you might be in love,” she giggled, “you’ve been way too happy lately. Like, absurdly happy.”

You froze in place, gwaning on your bottom lip. 

It was true, though. He was waking up early, smiling more, making more jokes that weren’t at Scott’s expense - they really had never seen him so happy.

“Um,” he hesitated for a second when you stole a glance at him. He was smiling to himself already.

“I guess you could say that.”

Everyone turned to stare at him in mild disbelief, including you.

“What? I was just kidding! Oh my god, you didn’t tell us?” Marie exclaimed, “spill it!”

Jean and Ororo were smiling wide behind their hands and exchanging knowing looks.

“Well, she’s real pretty,” he started, “and she’s sweet.”

You were trying so hard to fight a smile, covering your mouth with your fist as you leaned an elbow on the table.

“I never thought i’d hear you talk about someone like that,” Marie knitted her eyebrows and stuck out her bottom lip - the kind of face you’d make when a kid confesses their first crush.

Logan rolled his eyes and scoffed, a grin stuck on his face. Marie was still asking questions, determined to not let the topic go till she knew every detail.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

Logan was nervously chewing on the inside of his cheek. He looked like he was thinking of an answer.

“Uh… I don’t know. I haven’t really asked her.”

You must have been pink all the way to the tips of your ears. You brought your glass of water to your lips, hoping it would help cool your face. 

“Why not?”

Marie was really not gonna let this go and you dreaded to hear the answer come out of his mouth.

Logan sighed, picking at the skin around his fingernails as a nervous habit.

“Just a little nervous, I guess. I don’t wanna screw it up.”

“A girl that makes you nervous? When do we get to meet her?” 

Your eyes were stuck on the wood grain of the table, both of your hands covering half your face at this point.

“When the time is right,” he responded, taking a sip of his drink.

Ororo rolled her eyes.

You’d all finished eating a good while later and the check came. After you’d both put cash down, he mumbled under his breath with his hand shielding his mouth.

“Meet me outside in a second, okay?”

He slipped out of his seat and you watched him disappear around the corner.

No one had noticed him leave his seat, too engrossed in conversation. After a minute or two, you muttered something about using the bathroom before you left the table and swiftly made your way back to the entrance you had come in through. It was starting to rain a little, barely drizzling.

Logan was standing in the parking lot with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. He beckoned you over when he saw you, taking your hand in his and leading you to a spot outside that wasn’t directly in front of the door. His nose was starting to turn pink from the cold evening air and your cheeks were doing the same.

“So,” he swallowed hard, brushing his thumb over your knuckles, “I guess it’s about time I asked you, huh?”

“Ask me what?’

You were smiling so wide that your face ached. You knew exactly what, but of course you wanted to hear him say it.

His expression mirrored yours and he let go of one of your hands so he could cup your face.

“Would you be my girl?”

It may have been a little juvenile - the teasing, the hiding, the avoidance of labeling what you had - but it had worked.

“I already am,” you told him, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. He happily reciprocated, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you even closer.

If either of you had taken a second to look around you first , you would’ve spotted the rest of the team turning the corner the second you kissed him. 

“No way!”

Marie’s squeal echoed through the parking lot and both of you jumped, turning towards the sound. You both stood in stunned silence, Logan’s arms still locked around your waist.

“Uh…” He was like a deer in headlights.

“I should’ve guessed,” Scott clicked his tongue, irritated that he hadn’t figured you out sooner.

“Guessed what? We’re - uh, we were just - “ Logan shot you a look, hoping you’d be able to think of something on the spot - even with his arms still locked around you. You could’ve squirmed out of his hold, made some unconvincing excuse about having something in your eye and needing his help. You almost did. Looking up at him, his features highlighted by the flood lights that illuminated the nearly empty lot and his cheeks peppered in rain drops, you had a realization. You didn’t want to lie. You didn’t feel the need to anymore. You weren’t afraid it wasn’t going to work or that you might be better off as enemies rather than lovers. Everything felt like it was finally right - as if every piece of your life finally fit into its perfect place. If you were wrong - fuck it. You’d deal with the consequences later if you had to. 

“Kissing. We were kissing - we’re dating,” you sputtered out to your friends, looking back to Logan after. You almost expected him to be embarrassed, to tell you to keep your mouth shut.

 But he was smiling. He was smiling wider than you’d probably ever seen. He leaned his head down to kiss your forehead affectionately, mumbling into your hair, “I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, huh?”

You hummed in affirmation and peeked back at everyone else. 

“How? Since when? Oh my god, I need to know everything,” Marie was as giddy as could be, nearly jumping up and down.

“Since they went on that mission where they had to pretend to be married,” Ororo piped up, “they liked pretending a little too much.”

You all began walking to the two cars you came in, Logan’s arm draped around your shoulders. He was holding you so close that you were practically stepping on his boots.

“Aw,” you heard Marie whisper to Bobby from behind you, “they’re so sweet together.”

“Now that they're not trying to kill each other? Yeah,” he replied with a small laugh.

“I thought you guys hated each other,” Scott said, “what happened?

“Well,” you smiled to yourself, “he’s a good fake husband, so I figured he might make an alright boyfriend.”

You stopped when you approached the car and Logan wrapped you into a tight embrace, your face smushed against his chest. You giggled into his shirt until he finally let you go.

“How’d you guys even keep it under wraps anyway?” Scott asked.

You looked up to Logan, “Willpower?”

He chuckled, “I don’t know, really,” he rested his hands at your waist, “I guess we got lucky that you guys aren’t too bright.”

Ororo lightly smacked the back of his shoulder, rolling her eyes but holding a smile on her face.

You all piled into the cars you’d came in - you, Logan, Marie and Bobby in one and Jean, Scott and Ororo in another - and made your way home. Logan drove and you sat beside him, his hand in yours for most of the ride.

When you all got home and everyone went off to their rooms, Logan stopped you with a gentle grip on your wrist.

“Would you, um,” he looked to the floor for a moment, biting back a smile, “would you maybe want to spend the night in my room?”

You and Logan had been alone together a handful of times, but never like that - in his bedroom. The thought made your palms start to sweat. It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought of it - you’d been together about a month now and every time you’d gotten the chance to make out, you usually didn’t have an opportunity to go any further. Someone would call your name, Logan’s phone would ring, you’d hear footsteps - always something to pull you apart. It was torture, knowing you could kiss him till his hands started to creep up your shirt or your hand rested on his belt buckle but never actually get to go any further.

“We don’t have to do anything but sleep,” Logan could see the hesitation in your expression, “whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“I’d love to,” you replied, letting him take your hand in his and lead you down the hall. 

“How about this - I'll change into pajamas in my room, you can change in yours and then come down,” he swiped his thumb over your knuckles, “is that alright?”

You almost wanted to insist you could change in his room - let him see you bare in front of him like you wanted for weeks - but you simply nodded and slipped your hand from his grasp as you walked the short distance to your room. After changing into a tank top and pajama shorts, you shuffled up to his door in your slippers and gave a small knock.

He answered in an instant, wearing sweatpants and his usual white beater. You unintentionally let out a sigh, eyes immediately scanning over his muscular torso under the thin white fabric. 

Christ, he’s hot.

“Everything alright, pumpkin’?”

It didn’t help that he was so damn sweet to you.

“Huh? Uh - yeah, I just,” you stopped, realizing there wasn’t much of a need for an excuse, “I like the way you look in that.”

You boldly reached out to playfully tug the hem. He smiled and used your hand on him to pull you out of the hallway and into his room, wrapping you in his arms. 

“Yeah?” He said softly, kissing your cheek and forehead before finally meeting your lips, “I like the way you look in these.”

His hand slid down to the hem of your shorts, hiking them up a little to squeeze your upper thigh.

You giggled, a blush forming across your cheeks.

“And you’re so damn cute,” he led you to his bed, laying down and patting the spot next to him, “c’mere, sweetheart.”

Still, even after all those weeks, the pet names made you feel weak in the knees.

You obeyed instantly, crawling onto the mattress and snuggling up next to him. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, steady and strong. 

Logan had a mirror across the room, coincidentally angled so that, from where you were, you could both see your reflection. He was playing with your hair when he began to stare at your reflection, smiling to himself.

“What?” You interrogated, looking up at him and then back to the mirror.

“We look good together,” he admitted, “well, you look good.”

You clicked your tongue, “are you kidding? Please, girls practically throw themselves at you.”

“Well, there’s only one girl I ever really wanted to throw herself at me.”

“I think you got your wish.”

You still had that spark - the back and forth quips and competitive nature - except that it was always something sweet now.

“I love you, a lot,” he muttered into the top of your head, pulling you as close as you could lay to him with your leg slung over his thighs.

“I love you too, Logan,” you smiled into his shirt, taking in the smell of him.

His hand came to rest on your thigh, gently kneading and squeezing. You already felt your breath quicken and heart start to race again as his fingertips traced the hem of your shorts. 

“Like I said,” he cooed, having picked up on your rapid heartbeat, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Staring up at him, his large hand still kneading your upper thigh, you’d decided - just like in the parking lot earlier - you’d had enough of holding back. You swiftly brought yourself further on top of him, straddling his lap with your knees on either side. You didn’t give him time to protest as you cupped his face and kissed him in a slow mess of tongues and teeth, savoring the feeling of finally having him beneath you. It wasn’t long before his hands found home on your thighs, his fingers already slotting beneath the fabric of your shorts. He then slid his hands up to squeeze your ass, pushing you even further into him while your tongue explored the inside of his mouth. When you finally pushed yourself up with your hands on his chest, he almost looked dazed. 

“I wouldn’t start somethin’ you can’t finish,” he panted, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

“Oh, I think I’ll finish,” you joked, raising your eyebrows at the innuendo. 

“Yeah? I know you will.”

You squealed and giggled when he flipped you on your back, climbing over you and caging you in with his forearms on either side of your head. 

“Been wantin’ to get my hands on you like this forever, you know,” he continued with a wicked smile, peppering kisses from your jaw to your collarbone, “thinkin’ about you.”

“W-What were you thinking about?” you managed to stutter out, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head when he began to lightly suck and bite at your warm skin.

“Having you here, in my bed. Getting to undress you, having your thighs ‘round my head.”

You nearly choked on your saliva at the filthy way he was mumbling against your skin and squeezing your hips.

“Me too,” was all you could say, lost in the feeling of his hands now sliding under your tank top, resting right below your tits.

“ ‘s that what you thought about?”

You can tell he wanted you to say it, let him know just how bad you wanted him.

“I thought about being in your bed, sitting on your lap,” you took a deep breath, “and having you - having you, uh…”

Your sentence trailed off, cheeks tinted pink.

“What, sweetheart? C’mon, don’t be shy. What do you want me to do, huh?”

He still knew how to tease you, even if it wasn’t out of spite anymore. 

“Fuck,” you swallowed audibly, “want you to eat me out, fuck me - anything.”

You sounded desperate and you knew it. You really didn’t care, too engrossed in everything about him to even consider it. 

“Really?”

Your eyes met his, filled with lust and ambition to please you any way you wanted. His lips were parted in surprise when he first heard your words, slowly turning into a devious smile.

“Please.”

That was all he needed to trail his lips down your shoulders, gently pushing the straps of your tank top down. He sat up to let you pull it off and if he wasn’t already set on worshiping you, he definitely was now.

You’d yanked the garment over your head and onto the floor, revealing your bare chest. 

Logan groaned, laying you back down and almost immediately latching his lips onto the newly exposed and incredibly soft skin. 

“So beautiful,” he mumbled against you as he took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue.

“Oh my god,” you huffed quietly, arching your back to push yourself even further into him.

He was trying to hold back a smug grin, switching between each breast, sucking and biting gently.

“ ‘s good, baby?”

You were lost for words, even more so when you could see the string of spit that connected his mouth to one of your tits.

“Mm-hm,” you hummed, your fingers having found their home in Logan’s hair. 

You whined when he pulled his mouth from you with an audible pop.

“Words, sweetheart,” he told you, his eyes glued to yours while he licked his own spit off his lips. 

“”Fuck, yes, yes -“

You were cut off by your own moan, gasping when you felt the pressure of his thigh in between yours. He slid his hands down your body to grab your ass in an attempt to grind you down on his leg.

“I like it when you make those noises for me,” he muttered into your chest, his hands still kneading your ass when he pulled you forwards.

You wanted him for so long that the reality of being with him had made you over sensitive to his touch. Even through the fabric of your panties and shorts, the feeling was intoxicating.

You were practically whining as he ground you down so hard that you were soaked all the way through your shorts and panties, the fabric of both sliding to the side.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” he chuckled a little, feeling the soaked patch on his sweatpants, “all for me?”

You hummed, hands tugging at his hair, “for-for you.”

His hands came around to the front of your shorts, his fingers hooking onto the fabric.

“Can I take these off you?”

“Please,” you responded immediately, already lifting your hips off the bed so he could drag your shorts down your legs. 

When he turned to throw them somewhere on the floor, he caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your chest was heaving and your hair was all over the place from rolling around in the bed. He could see that you were still looking up at him, even when he was turned away.

“I got an idea, scoot up a bit,” he told you suddenly when he turned back to face you. You moved forward on the mattress as he momentarily stood up, stripping himself of his beater. He sat behind you and arranged himself so that he was holding your back against his chest with his arms around your waist, his legs spread out so you could lay between them.

You instantly caught sight of your reflection in the mirror. Your head was leaned back on his shoulder and he planted delicate kisses down your neck.

“ ‘s that why you wanted to sit like this?” you nodded weakly in the direction of the mirror, your eyes nearly fluttering close when he slid one of his hands to rest on the inside of your thigh.

“You look real pretty, I wanna see all of you,” he explained, his middle finger grazing your cunt through your damp panties.

Your eyes were glued to your reflection - your legs spread with his hand between them and purple hickies darkening on your chest. Logan was staring at your reflection too, his mouth still working on your neck.

“Look at you, all spread out for me,” he mumbled into your ear, “so fucking gorgeous.”

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips. If he kept saying all those filthy things, it wasn't going to take long before you were coming apart in his arms.

You shivered when his fingers hooked around the wet crotch of your underwear and moved it to the side.

You could hear him swear under his breath from behind you, his fingers barely grazing your heat.

“God, Logan,” you were squirming, trying to push your hips towards his hand, “you’re gonna make me beg?”

You could see him smirk into your shoulder in the mirror, “you know what?”

He moved his hands to drag your panties off, nearly tearing them in the process.

“Yeah, I am.”

He let his head fall back to rest on the headboard, lidded eyes staring into your reflection while his hands laid still on the outside of your hips - even farther away from where you wanted him. He really wasn’t going to move an inch until he heard you beg for it, though he couldn’t help himself from digging his fingers into your soft flesh.

You groaned in frustration, “Fucking hate you.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

His lips grazed your earlobe and you wanted to roll your eyes at the smug look on his face, “Now, c’mon, baby. Beg.”

You moved your hands behind you so you could thread your fingers through the hair at the back of his head.

“Fuck, please, Logan - need you.”

“Need me how?”

He really was an asshole.

“Need your hands - need your fingers, please,” you groaned.

“I don’t know, you think you’ve been a good girl? Think you deserve it?”

You would’ve been pissed at him had he not turned you on beyond belief. You gave in, becoming putty in his arms.

“ ‘m good - been good for you,” you whined, using one of your hands on his to try and move it between your legs, “please.”

He sighed, returning his hand back to the hot skin of your inner thigh, “Shit, need me that bad? Huh, pretty girl?”

You were so worked up you could have cried from his teasing. You nodded eagerly, attempting to clamp your thighs together to force his hand to at least graze your cunt that was dripping onto his sheets.

He clicked his tongue and used his strong hands on the inside of your thighs to spread your legs again, “Gotta keep ‘em open for me, sweetheart.”

He dragged two of his fingers between your folds, messily toying with you. You gasped, gripping his arm and inadvertently leaving imprints from your fingernails.

“So fucking wet,” he huffed, gaze glued to the reflection of your spread legs in the mirror, “Pretty pussy’s all mine.”

You were already whimpering and moaning from the slightest touch.

“ ‘s yours - fuck, I‘m-I’m yours,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed.

He hummed in agreement, his fingers prodding at your entrance.

“Please, please, please,” you whined, trying to push your hips forward.

“I think you’ve been real good, angel,” he was slipping his fingers further into you at an agonizingly slow pace, “think you deserve it.”

You were whining and whimpering so loud that you were sure someone had to have heard you by now. You couldn’t help the noises slipping from your mouth, feeling like you’d black out just from the sight of Logan’s fingers slipping between your swollen lips and into your cunt.

When he finally thrusted his fingers into you all the way down to his knuckles, you brought a hand up to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle what you knew would be a pornographically loud moan.

He clicked his tongue, grabbing at your wrist to tug your hand away.

“Uh-uh, baby,” he panted into your ear, curling his fingers inside you, “wanna hear you - want everyone to know who’s makin’ you feel good like this.”

His thumb started to draw circles around your clit in rhythm with the movement of his fingers and you could feel the pressure in your stomach starting to build.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his jaw hung open while he watched his fingers disappear inside you over and over again with ease, “takin’ my fingers so well. I think you’d take somethin’ else real well, too.”

The intent of his words nearly drove you over the edge, your mind unable to stop conjuring up images of what it would be like when he finally did fill you like you’d wanted him to.

“Logan, Logan, I’m -,” you groaned, so close to finally coming on his fingers.

Until he slipped them out of you and pulled his hand away completely.

You choked out a sob, squeezing your eyes shut in frustration.

“I’m gonna let you finish, don’t worry,” he promised. You watched him suck his fingers clean before he used his arm around you to rearrange you both so that he was laying on his back and you were facing him with your legs straddling his torso. You could feel his erection poking at your ass and you licked your lips when you imagined being able to take him in your mouth, letting him fuck your throat to the point that your chin and the base of his cock were coated in your drool.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Logan’s voice brought you out of thought and you let him guide your legs up until your knees were on either side of your head.

You looked down at him in curiosity, not yet understanding what it was he wanted to do.

Noticing your expression, he wrapped his arms around your thighs to pull your dripping pussy closer to his mouth.

“I’m gonna let you finish, baby, but it’s gotta be on my mouth. Sit.”

“You…” you hesitated for a second, feeling your face redden, “you want me to sit on your face? What if I crush you? Or suffocate you?’’

He chuckled at your concern, lovingly caressing your thighs, “You won’t, trust me. It’ll feel good, I promise. Besides, If you did suffocate me? I don’t think I’d wanna go any other way.”

You laughed nervously and let him pull you down further, sinking onto his face. His tongue swiped up your folds and you gripped the headboard so you wouldn’t fall forward.

“Jesus, Logan,” you gasped, your other hand gripping his hair, “feels so fucking good.”

“Uh-huh, told you, princess. Jus’ lemme take care of you,” he mumbled into your pussy, eating you like he was starved. He moved his head back and forth and up and down to lick every inch of you he could.

“I think I would’ve - ah, would’ve said somethin’ to you much sooner if I knew you could do this,” you joked a little, your small chuckle turning into a gasp when he slipped his tongue even further down so he was inside you. He hummed into you, his nose nudging against your clit. You began to grind your hips back and forth over his mouth, drunk off the way he moved his tongue.

“Atta girl,” he grunted, “use me, c’mon.”

His hairy arms were hooked around your thighs like a vice, to the point that you couldn’t lift your hips even if you wanted to. When his eyes weren’t trained on you above him, they were squeezed shut in an attempt to savor every second his tongue was in your pussy. He was pulling your thighs forward every time you rocked yourself back and forth, desperate to feel you come on - in - his mouth. 

You could already feel the pressure building in your stomach. The obscene wet noises coming from his mouth messily eating your cunt didn’t do much to ease it, either. Your eyes rolled back and you continued to ride his face, mouth hung open in ecstasy. Logan could tell you were close just from how sloppy your movements had become. 

“Gonna come for me already, honey?”

You hated how hot it was when he teased you, mocked your desperation.

“Fuck, yeah,” you groaned, your hips rolling forward.

“Lemme see it, pretty girl, come for me.”

You gasped at the filth spilling from his lips into you. It was more than enough to finally make the tension snap in your lower stomach, still rocking your hips over his mouth while you whimpered his name over and over again like a prayer.

Logan was practically growling into your cunt, feeling your muscles contract around his prodding tongue. He was trying to catch anything that possibly came from your release. You tasted good, but when you finished? Even fucking better.

“Lo-Logan, too much, s’ too much,” you tried to protest as he kept your thighs locked around his face, still lapping at you without slowing his pace. He hummed in response and finally let you go when he was sure he’d licked you clean.

You lifted your hips and moved to sit beside him on your heels, almost in pain at the loss of physical contact. When you finally got to see his face, his lips were red and raw, his chin and even the side of his cheeks coated in your slick. You watched in awe as he wiped his cheek, bringing his hand up to his mouth after to lick it clean.

“Taste fucking amazing,” he assured you, keeping his eyes on yours when he sucked on one of his fingers.

You caught sight of his obvious and rather large erection and your mouth began to water. Once again, you were lost in the thought of how good it would be to feel the weight of his cock in your mouth.

“You alright, baby?”

“Yeah, I - um,” you sighed, leaning forward on your hands, “can I - can I have it in my mouth? Just for a little bit?”

Your hand rested on his hip, fingers grazing the waistband of his sweatpants, dangerously close.

“Shit,” he huffed, his cock twitching from the anticipation, “you wanna?”

You nodded eagerly, pulling his pants and boxers down his thighs when he lifted his hips.

“Hey,” he tenderly stopped your hand as you reached to touch him, “I’m tellin’ you now, girl -  you can suck it ‘cause you asked so nicely but I’m not comin’ unless it’s in you.”

He let go of your wrist and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, continuing to speak.

“I can fill your throat another time, yeah?”

You were speechless, lidded eyes switching from his face to his swollen cock and back again. You nodded in agreement.

You guessed Logan would be big - he was generally a large guy - but you could feel the drool gathering in your mouth when his cock sprung out of his boxers to hit his stomach. He was fucking huge. You might’ve been nervous if you weren’t so eager to fit him into your mouth. You finally leaned down to wrap a hand around the base of his cock, softly licking at his leaking tip.

Logan threaded your hair between his fingers, gathering as much as he could to form a makeshift ponytail that was held together by his fist. 

“Like seein’ your pretty face. You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?”

His words only spurred you on and you gathered as much saliva as possible so you could spit onto his cock. When you did, you started to stroke him in a slow rhythm that had him rocking his hips towards your hand already. His mouth hung open and his eyes were glued to your movements, watching you work your hand up and down. Your spit coated your hand and his cock to the point that it was dripping down his balls.

The moment you finally closed your mouth around him, he was practically a mess.

You took him as deep as you could, relaxing your throat and steadily breathing. You gagged as his tip hit the back of your throat and he groaned. He watched your head bob up and down while you simultaneously stroked whatever you couldn’t fit into your mouth. He huffed out your name in between cursing under his breath. His gaze caught the mirror he’d nearly forgotten about and he could’ve came just from the sight of your mouth drooling around him.

“So good, baby,” he sighed, licking his lips, “you look so pretty suckin’ my cock.”

You reveled in the praises spilling from his lips. Chasing more, you used your hand that wasn’t around him to cup his balls and massage gently. He actually whimpered and you could feel Logan’s legs start to shake a bit.

“Alright, enough - ,” he grunted, using his grip on your hair to pull your mouth from him and push your hand away.

You almost looked hurt, pouting while looking between him and his glistening cock. Truthfully, you liked the taste of him. Loved it, really, so much so that you had to hold back from diving right back into position. Just the idea had you clenching your thighs together when you thought of it. When your mouth was already on him? You were so wet again that it was starting to smear across your inner thighs.

“Sorry, doll,” he apologized while swiping fallen strands of hair from your face, “too close.”

It felt exhilarating being able to turn big, bad, scary Wolverine into a whimpering mess after only a couple minutes in your mouth.

“I’m gonna come in you,” he reiterated, “gonna make you mine.”

You just about melted into putty from his words.

“ ‘m yours, ‘v been yours.”

Your voice was desperate and you crawled onto him, straddling his hips. Your bare cunt slid against the base of his cock and his hips jerked up.

“Fuck,” he panted, “you wanna know somethin’? Been thinking about this for so long, even when I thought you hated me - I couldn’t help it.”

“Me too,” you replied, hands on his chest to steady yourself, “even when I thought you hated me. Used to think - to think about jus’ getting you alone.”

“Yeah?” He teased, one of his hands coming down to align his cock with your entrance, “what did you think about doing when you got me alone, hm?”

“I - ah, f-fuck,” you tried to speak, stuttering when he started to slip himself in as slowly as possible, “letting you fuck me, having - having your fingers in me.”

“So, is it as good as you imagined?”

“Mm,” you tried to respond and only whined from the pressure of Logan pushing you down further onto his cock and stretching you out, “better, it’s better.”

“You think you can take all of it, sweetheart?”

“I need it, please, please, Logan - need you.”

You could rarely recognize your own voice, strained and desperate.

“Only ‘cause you begged so nice.”

In one hard thrust, he pushed your hips down onto his.

Your jaw hung open and your eyes rolled back into your head. You’d never felt so fucking full before, like he reached every inch of where you wanted him. 

“Fucking - Christ, Logan, you - ah,” your sentence was cut off when he began to grind up into you, using his grip on your hips to keep you steady and gently help guide you up and down. 

“Hm? What, baby?”

When you sat back down on him, he used an iron grip to keep you where you were, pushing himself as far into you as he possibly could. The friction on your clit made your pussy twitch and he definitely felt it, pulling you back and forth a little bit.

Again, you couldn’t speak - too distracted by the indescribable feeling of having him sheathed completely inside you. Your eyes started to water, tears forming from the overwhelming pleasure in the pit of your stomach. 

“Fuck me,” you nearly sobbed, leaning forward to bury your face in his neck, “please, please.”

He finally let you lift your hips up and down again and you were a whining fucking mess. Logan could see over your shoulder into the mirror and he marveled at the white ring you left around the base of his cock every time you lifted your hips. You were messy, exactly how he wanted you - he’d probably lick you clean after, if you’d let him.

You were rambling into his neck, panting, “so fucking - you’re so big, oh my god, need you all - ah - all the time.”

He was smirking to himself, smug from how he was able to fuck you to the point that you were just letting go completely - telling him every thought that popped into your mind while you were still on top of him. You worked yourself up to a steady rhythm and he indulged in the image of your tits bouncing above him when you sat up. 

“So good, honey - takin’ me so well, like you were made for me,” he groaned. His eyes never left yours.

“ ‘m made for - for you,” you slurred, rolling your hips.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Who’s this pussy belong to, huh? Tell me.”

“Yours, I - it’s yours, Logan.”

Your thighs started to ache pretty quickly, your pace faltering as he kept steadily drilling up into you. 

“Are you sore, baby? You wanna switch?”

His voice was so soft in comparison to how he was speaking moments earlier through gritted teeth. You nodded and let him lay you on your back, climbing over you and caging you in with his forearms on either side of your head. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead, both cheeks, the tip of your nose and finally, your lips. You were absolutely giddy from the sickly sweet moments you shared inbetween the times where he was fucking you so hard you were out of breath. 

Your ankles locked behind Logan’s back to pull him into you while he tried to guide himself with his hand. He slipped back in effortlessly and ground his hips forward, pinning you down to the mattress. One of his arms was snaked around your back to hold you closer and the other was holding your wrists together above your head.

His hips rolled forward and he hit a spot inside of you that made the fire in the pit of your stomach rise.

You choked out a sob and tried to squirm in an attempt to free your wrists, but you both knew there was no way you’d wiggle out of his grip unless he let you. To no surprise, a man made of mostly metal was almost impossibly strong when he pinned you down with his hands and hips.

“I gotcha’.” he panted, so close that your noses brushed together when he thrust forward, “you’re not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”

As if you’d want to move from your spot underneath him.

Your eyes caught the shining metal of the dog tags hanging from his neck, swinging back and forth over your chest when he moved. When you looked back up to his face, his eyes were boring into yours. His face was flushed and his mouth hung open, sweat accumulating on his brow. He looked fucking gorgeous. You were going to tell him so, try to lean up to kiss him, but he spoke again before you could.

“I’m in love with you - ‘m so in love with you, you know that?”

The pace of his thrusts quickened and you could’ve cried at the sincerity had he not been drilling into you so hard that you could barely open your eyes.

“I - I’m, ah - in love with - with you, too,” you choked out between gasps.

“So pretty,” he muttered, finally letting go of your wrists so he could hold your chin to force you to keep your eyes on him, “i’m so fucking lucky.”

It was all too much - the sincere adoration in his voice combined with the filthy way he was snapping his hips into yours - and you could feel the knot in your lower stomach start to come undone.

“Logan, fuck, I’m -,” you tried to tell him you were close, but his thrusts were knocking the wind out of you.

“God, please - c’mon, c’mon,” he was pleading through gritted teeth, trying with everything in him to hold back from coming before you did. His hand slipped between your bodies so he could draw tight circles around your clit and your eyes squeezed shut in ecstacy. 

You were chanting his name after a couple more strokes, tears rolling down the side of your face while he pounded you through your orgasm. You were practically seeing stars, your legs shaking around his waist.

He could feel your muscles contract around him and his movements became sloppy. He was grunting with every roll of his hips, muttering praises under his breath.

So fucking pretty

Look so beautiful like this

So perfect

He was spilling into you seconds later, animalistically groaning into your ear. His hips slowed to a halt, his arms still wrapped around you. You were both shiny and sticky with sweat, panting with flushed faces. When he pulled his face from your ear, he was beaming like an idiot, already drowsy.

“Was that good, baby?”

He was still out of breath, using one arm to weakly hold himself above you while he stroked your hair. 

“Are you serious? More than good,” you chuckled, “amazing.”

He tenderly kissed your forehead and rolled beside you, immediately wrapping you in his arms.

“Don’t we have to clean up?” you asked, eyes already starting to flutter closed.

“Mhm,” he hummed, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck, “can do it later - wanna cuddle.”

You grinned wide, amused by how damn cute he was. You simply hummed in agreement, resting your hand over his.

“Logan?”

“Mm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

A/N: I had to close my laptop and walk away a a couple time while writing this so I hope it drives you as insane as it did me! I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

If you enjoyed, thank you for reading and pls like/reblog!! <3 and thank u sm for the love on part 1!

[k0mmari]

SYSTEM! SHEN YUAN AU (Pt.2)

Pt.1

Im not done with this, so to the people that wanted more, here it is! I, fortunately or not, have thought way too much again, so once more this is going to be a very, very, VERY long post. If you guys have any ideas about this btw, please do share them! I really am just letting my mind wander a bit more than usual, so maybe someone else can have more structured thoughts than me lol. (Fair warning, there probably will be plot holes, so sorry in advance!)

Please read Pt.1 if you haven't, or this won't make any sense!

After SY warped away from his impromptu meeting with Binghe, the last place he would like to end up would be even deeper into the Endless Abyss, but according to his System, the next piece of the virus was here. While not happy, since his Personal System was (mostly) working as intended, SY managed to activate Ghost Mode and walk towards the next part without having to deal with any of the creatures down there. (He had to try very hard not to get distracted by the monsters, lest his supervisor thinks he also went missing.)

It takes considerably more time to find the virus this time, so much in fact, SY starts to recognize his surroundings from SQH's ramblings (not that he was interested or anything), and he feels a cold sense of dread running down his spine. There was no way he was that unlucky that the object that got corrupted this time was-

He was that unlocky. Lo and behold, after entering a run down ruin, SY is faced with the legendary Xin Mo, power so overwhelming it manifested as dark fire covering the blade. The only reason why SY wasn't immediately writhing on the ground from the sword's power was Ghost Mode, which he could not rely for too long, as his Personal System was displaying warning after warning about Possibility of Corruption and God Like Plot Point. It all meant that SY was on a timer, and if he took too long, the sword would start corrupting his System, which in turn could corrupt him.

Now, since this was a VERY important Plot Point, Luo Binghe had to find Xin Mo or else the plot would derail to an unfixable degree, SY couldn't just snip at it, which was a problem, since manual debugging took a considerably longer time! Still, he summons his Scissors and positions it so he can start at least trimming off the virus.

His plan immediately backfires however, as an ominous crack sounds through the air and he's suddenly pushed away from the sword by a gust of energy. A bit disoriented, he shakes his head and acesses the sit-

Xin Mo, the horrible sword it was, was apparently so OP that it seemed to detect the Scissors at the last second, and the thing attacked back! The metal of the Scissors was dark and broken where it came close to the sword, almost broken in half! Which, not good! It any other time, a pair of broken Debugging Sheers would be more or less fine, if not a major inconvinience (and pay deduction) for SY, but since he'd been warping all over the time for a while now, his Personal System's energy reserves were carefully rationed, and if he were to use a chunk to send the Scissors back for some emergency repair, he'd only have one chance to go back to HQ. Alone.

He couldn't delay it any longer, he desperately needed to find SQH and pray he still had some energy reserves left.

Setting his Personal System's next warp location to SQH's last known location, SY wouldn't have guessed in a million years that he would go back to Cang Qiong Mountain, but whatever; maybe SQH had wanted to start with fixing the bug on Binghe's pendant? Not that this was the right time since it was after Binghe fell into the Abyss, but SQH had never been good at warping. It takes a bit of wandering and going inside different buildings, but eventually his Personal System managed to get a dirrect ping on SQH's System, which sent a massive wave of relief rushing through SY, since it meant that SQH was still slive.

Though as to why he was at An Ding Peak, SY could only guess.

After a bit more wandering, SY enters on what seems to be a (very messy) office space, SY feels all the pieces coming together in his mind. Half sprawled across the table with piles of paper covering the entire table's surface lay the An Ding Peak Lord, which- was already weird, since wasn't this guy supposed to be an enemy of the Peak now? After the whole betrayal thing or whatever? But that would've been something to look into later, were it not for said Peak Lord casually scrolling through a Personal System screen. A Personal System that could only be used by the System's Maintanence Staff.

SY wastes no time in deactivating Ghost Mode, and when SQH's eyes snap to his, the man jumps so high from his chair he almost falls back. It's not a happy reunion by a longshot, since SY immediately jumped his friend co-worker and demanded an explaination, almost screaming about it was all his fault for doing shitty maintenence, and creating this shitty world if it's shitty OP sword which broke his Sheers? Do you know how expensive these are?? I know you do, cause the supervisor never lets you touch the good ones cause you keep cracking all the other pairs-

It takes a more or less one whole hour to calm down SY, but eventually the younger settled and lets SQH say his bit of the story: Apparently, in his messing around with the System's world creation program when he was trying to find the bug in his world, he'd accidentaly managed to get himself actually transmigrated to PIDW, though still with (limited) acess to his Personal System, which let him still send messages to their supervisor and pretend that everything was ok. He'd gotten so unlucky too! Out of all the people to accidentaly select, did it have to be the An Ding Peak Lord? Couldn't it have been Binghe? Or MBJ- (SQH cuts his lamenting when he notices SY's absolutely viscious death glare being stared right through his soul.)

Long story short, he'd initially did try to fix his blunder, but as more time passed and SQH's access to Maintenance priviledges went out one by one on his System, he eventually just... Started actually living there. In fact, he was living so well there that he dared say his life as Peak Lord was even better then when he was with the System! Of course, since he had been integrated as a 'character' now, he had his limitations, he actually managed to get to know his fellow peak lords! He knew the name of his character's family members and his disciples! He'd managed to build a life he never even thought he could have inside the System.

Sure, did he betray the Peak? Yes, yes he did. Were they all going to die in a few years time when Binghe came back from hell? Yeah, yeah they were, and he was immensely guilty and terrified, but! The plot could be changed! He already assumed someone from the System had popped up in the Conference, as when Binghe had recently made his alliance with MBJ, and had mentioned in passing this weird thing that had happened to him just before he fell into the Abyss.

Anyways, eventually SY begrudgingly accepts SQH's decision to stay in PIDW, but he still had to help SY; and so they form a plan: SY was going to transfer some energy to SQH so he could temporarily get his acess to the full version of his Personal System and use his energy reserves to send SY's Sheers and get them fixed. SQH was also going to properly apologize to their supervisor for suddenly quitting without notice AND order some more energy stacks to be sent to SY's System. SY on the other hand had devises a plan to get closer to XIn Mo without the sword exploding his face off:

Infiltrate Demon Emperor Luo Binghe's palace as a lowly staff member and slowly debug the sword from the inside.

A perfect plan! What could go wrong?

SY selects to warp to a time where Binghe had Xin Mo mostly in control, so it is to no surprise he warps to a place were the Demonic Emperor's Palace is absolutely filled with women. Not the best situation, since a lot of people could and probably would be able to see him, but with that many harem members, it wasn't too much of a stretch to assume there was also a considerable number of staff, which, to SY's luck, there was! In fact, after he managed to activate a disguise for his clothes so they matched the rest of the servants, no one bat an eye on his presence; at most someone would inquire about his short hair, but other than that he was as noteable as a fly.

The first phase of his plan was already a success, so now he had to move on to reconnaissance which was mostly easy and the worst thing in his life. He was mostly looking for Binghe's quarters could be as he probably kept the sword close to him at all times, though with how big the palace was, his objective had gradually shifted to mapping out the labyrinth of halls as much as possible (SY was very glad that the System allowed him to create a map in real time or he might have gotten lost in the first five minutes). He walks so much he even manages to catch a few pieces of gossip, though the most interesting one by far being one about Binghe:

Apparently, a year ago, the Emperor had a qi deviation where, for a day, he seemed to have completely shifted his personality; he refused to touch any of his wives and kept screaming for his long dead Shizun. SY doesn't really remember that plot point, though his wondering is cut short when he hears people walking towards his direction. instinctively he his behind a dark corner, momentarily forgetting that he 'worked' at the palace now.

At list his bad luck was finally turning over as the Golden Protagonist himself walked past him with one of his wives hanging off his arm, looking just as cool as SY had always imagined. He had to snap himself out of his stuppor though, as two things caught his attention: First, Xin Mo was, predictably, strapped to his waist, still glitched but at least the virus seemed more or less contained, which gave SY a bit more time to work, though the other thing he noticed...

Hanging onto an old-looking braid laid SY's missing tassle that Binghe had found for him all the way back at the Conference.

What the hell was Luo Binghe doing wearing that old tassle at this day and age??

A few days passed and the Tassle Incident (as he called it) had to be set aside, as it seemed that passing as a servant also meant that other servants and even some wives expected SY to actually work. Not great, he sucked at cleaning and the other servants spared no words to make it clear to him, but it at least gave him something to do while he waited for his Scissors to arrive. SQH had sent him a few messages saying he'd gotten his part of the deal done, so now all SY could do was monitor Xin Mo's condition (from very far away), and occasionally manually debug some small virus pieces that had fallen from the sword, which luckily were easy enough to deal with that he didn't need to cut them off.

The only thing that was worrying him now is how... odd Luo Binghe seemed. Of course, he was supposed to be the pinnacle of the Cool Guy trope, so some edginess was to be expected, but Binghe didn't look just Edgy, he looked straight up depressed. There were bags under his eyes, and he barely seemed to tolerate the presence of 99% of his wives, and that damned braid with the damned tassle was still there-

Point is, Binghe acting so weird really threw SY through a loop, and he may have gotten a bit careless. At a random day when SY was carrying some dirty laundry another servant had just shoved at him, he had no prior warning before a voice sounded from behind him: "You seem to have dropped something."

He barely managed to shake off the violent sense of deja-vu that had sucker punched him in the face before he realized what was happening; Luo Binghe was talking to him. Directly to him. Shit- shit! Did he notice? Was Binghe doing a clever call back, spider-man style?? Was SY going to die????

SY shakily turns to Binghe, keeping his eyes locked onto the floor, bowing as much as possible that he still seemed respectful but the bag of clothes he had didn't all just fall to the floor. Thankfully Binghe didn't seem to mind, and simply put the fallen piece of clothing on top of the others and walked away. Though, just as SY was regaining his breath, Luo Binghe's voice stops him again. "You... Have we met before?"

SY trembles something about only being hired recently and not having the opportunity to formaly meet Junshang, and it seems to be a decent enough that Binghe just stares at him for a while longer before walking away. He really should grow out his hair if even the Emperor got weirded out like that...

Binghe started eyeing SY way more after that day. The protagonist would rarely speak directly to him, but SY could feel his gaze as if it were burning; though, since Binghe never said anything, SY just assumed that whatever Binghe's problem with him was, it was likely nothing to worry about.

In fact, it probably was because one of Binghe's wives had used SY is an impromptu act to try to get Binghe jealous (he just frowned, separated the two and walked away) and after that she had gotten infatuated with him, so she'd turned SY into her personal servant. Because of that SY saw Binghe at most two times a week instead of the 50% chnace of seeing his shadow once a week. Wow.

Because of this, as much as Binghe noticed SY, SY noticed Binghe as well, the protagonist seeming to get even more down as the days went. The tassle was still braided in his hair (SY worried it was just going to become a lock at this point), his eyebags never seemed to leave his eyes, and he was always muttering about... something. (SY managed to overhear something about 'fairness' and what Binghe actually wanted...?)

It all culminated at a seemingly random night. Most of the wives and servants had gone to sleep, only the more in-human women still hanging around, and SY, of course, but mostly it was because he wanted to see how close he could get to Binghe's quarters (aka Xin Mo) at night. Not that it was necessary, as when he was walking his attention was adruptly caught by the strangest sight: Luo binghe, sitting on one of the stone stair that lead to one of the many courtyards, being absolutely drenched in rain. The weirdest part was that a few servants and wives had also passed this place, and they all seemed like they didn't see Binghe, or didn't care.

Hating to see such an usually proud man (not that he'd seen much of that either) just soaking outside as if he'd just caught the love of his life cheating with another man, SY decided that at least he'd do a good job as a servant and take care of 'his Lord'. He grabs an umbrella from one of the adjacent rooms and slowly walks outside, covering Luo Binghe's form, not really caring if he was also getting soaked.

They stayed silent for who knows how long, but eventually, Binghe's eyes that had been laser focused on the horizon slowly blink once, as if coming out of a trance, and slowly move to SY's face, up to his hand holding the umbrella. "My Lord should get back inside. He'll get sick that way." SY half murmurs.

Binghe doesn't respond, though after a few seconds, his eyes seem to widen a bit and his breath comes out a little shaky. SY doesn't dare comment on it.

"Have we met before?" Luo Binghe asks again.

"...Yes." Shen Yuan says.

Binghe closes his eyes, and they stay like that for another hour.

[appalachiancowboy99]

After Dark

Arthur Morgan x CurvyFem!Reader Established relationship, high honor, grumpy Arthur in desperate need of release, 18+, MDNI (Minors DO NOT ENTER)

Arthur comes back to camp later than usual, with nothing but a bad disposition and a desperate need to release his pent-up frustrations.

Warnings: longer read, sexual content (oral, unprotected p in v, rough sex), mentions of violence, mentions of anger, and dabbles in sensual fluff.

Gif by: @sunwingsunset

A/N: Thank you so much to @photo1030 for not only being my sounding board in the never-ending chaos that is my writing process but also for being such a wonderful friend through it all. So grateful for you, don't know what I'd do without ya, C! <3 Thank you so much to @rivetingrosie4 for being an inspiration for my little works and being so supportive of my creative endeavors, not to mention the kind generosity of your friendship! Forever grateful for to have met you! @tortureddpoett I'm so excited to explore this budding friendship with you! Thank you so much for showing so much excitement for my work, IT MAKES ME EXCITED (EEP!). It means an absolute ton to me <3 @mr-inkslinger your friendship has been an absolute delight to explore! Thank you for posting that toe-curling smut that always has me giggling and kicking my feet! So happy to have met ya! And thank each and every single one of you for liking my first drabble and expressing interest in this next one. I'm so sorry it's taken me forever to publish this post, but hopefully, the next ones won't take me as long. I'll forever be grateful for your patience and kindness <3 But now, enough of my babbling, y'all enjoy yourselves with this one- I know I did ;)

Fuck. From the second he opened his eyes, he knew that the day was going to be fucking awful; his neck had a crick in it, his head was pounding from what little sleep he’s received over the last few nights, and now he had to trudge back out into the goddamn muggy heat to work. One disaster after another had piled up; everything that could have gone wrong, went so terribly awry that he wound up farther away from camp than he originally intended and managed to add a solid fifteen-dollar bounty to the mounting collection resting atop his head. Dutch had sent him out on a wild goose chase, following a lead from Micah that, of course, ended up being a complete waste of time. And that meant he was coming back to camp empty-handed, which almost certainly meant he'd be on the receiving end of another one of Dutch's lectures on the endless responsibilities placed upon his shoulders. He dreaded it, wanted to avoid spiraling down another conversation that would end in Dutch questioning his faith in the ever-evolving plan he’s found himself working on these days.

As if he needed any of that horseshit tonight. All he wanted was a moment of peace and quiet, a chance to catch his breath after the disaster of a day he'd just had, but instead, he was headed back to camp with nothing but bruises, a bloody lip, and a bad disposition to show for his efforts. Trees and other bits of scenery whipped by in a blur as Arthur spurred his horse onward, his surroundings melting together into a muddy mess of shapes cast by moonlight. He passed through New Hanover, his furious pace leading him down the familiar roads of Lemoyne, reaching the clearing outside of camp. Lenny and John are the first to spot Arthur approaching the thicket of trees disguising Clemens Point's main entrance. “Hey, who goes there?” Lenny’s voice echoes through the forest, bouncing off the thicket until it reaches Arthur’s ears.

“‘S me.” Arthur grunts out through gritted teeth, clearly not in the mood for any chit-chat. Even underneath the shadow of leaves and limbs, the scowl etched upon his face is easily distinguishable, a clear sign for anyone with any common sense to give him a wide berth for the rest of the night. Lenny and John, both, had a pretty good idea of what might happen when Arthur steps foot into camp and they don't want any part of it. As a result, they give each other a little knowing glance and stay in the treeline, preferring to avoid the impending shitstorm and let Dutch or Hosea deal with it instead. He strides past them in a fit of frustration, dismounting his mare with a jerky movement before she's even come to a complete stop. Kieran spots him and hesitantly approaches. That poor fool. "H-Hey, Mr. Morgan. Would ya like me to unsaddle the 'ol gal here?" Kieran's question was nothing more than an innocent query, but his expression turned the young man into a nervous wreck. If looks could kill, Arthur’s certainly could; his steely eyes are set ablaze with annoyance and irritation as he casts a hateful glance in Kieran's direction. Even Kieran knew better than to talk to Arthur when he was in this state, knowing that it would only lead to suffering at the hands of his unbridled wrath. Kieran’s eyes immediately darted to his feet, desperate to avoid Arthur’s icy gaze as his fingers trembled with the frayed ends of rope in his hands. Quickly as to not start any trouble for himself, Kieran took hold of the mare's reigns and led her away to the field of horses, putting as much distance between himself and Arthur as he could. A slight pang of guilt runs through him when he sees the way that Kieran high-tailed it out of his line of sight. He doesn't want to be harsh to the boy, he's been a useful asset to the gang, but his temper is just too far gone for him to muster up an apology. As fast as the angering thoughts snapping through his mind, Arthur turns on his heels and storms into camp in search of Dutch. His boots furiously hit the grass and reddened Lemoyne dirt as he passes by a few of the wandering eyes from those still awake at this late hour. Charles casts him a wary glance, and so does Sadie, but neither of them cares to look long enough to entertain what's about to happen. He passes by his own wagon and heads straight to Dutch's tent. Dutch is nowhere to be seen, yet the lamp light inside casts its soft golden glow upon the closed canvas flaps of the tent, indicating that he might be inside. Not wasting any more time than he has to, Arthur approaches the tent, not bothering to stop and think until it's too late. His hand raises, readying to peel back the canvas flap, when all of a sudden he hears the sweet amorous sounds of lovemaking echo through the night air.  Molly’s sweet voice gasps out between each movement of their squeaking cot, calling out for Dutch as the unmistakable sound of skin slapping skin penetrates through the thin canvas walls, revealing exactly what’s occupying Dutch’s time tonight.

“Oh, Dutch. Don’t stop,” she encourages through strained, unabashed moans of pleasure. Dutch’s deep, husky voice murmurs back something unintelligible, but the increased squeaking of their bed and the filthy little noises coming from Molly are a clear indicator that Arthur should be stepping away to give them some privacy. Embarrassment washes over him, causing a faint rosy flush to heat his face and bloom across his cheeks. For once, he's grateful for the distraction from his current frustration. On most nights, he'd find comfort in your presence, seeking you out to vent his grievances as a distraction from the ever-present aggravation that seemingly follows him around these days. But tonight, he just wants to retreat to his tent, away from everything and everyone, to try to calm down before he says or does something he regrets.

He strides past the dying campfires and tables that are askew from daily camp activities, and his mind tirelessly races from thought to thought, stealing his attention away from his surroundings. If Arthur had even bothered to look, he would have spotted your sleeping form laid out upon his bed the moment he stepped inside. You had been waiting for him all evening. After working yourself to the bone doing laundry, dinner prep, and other camp chores for Ms. Grimshaw all day long, you wandered your way over to Arthur’s tent in search of a quiet place to sit. Part of you wished to find him seated right there on his cot, wanting to simply have a conversation with the man who has stolen your heart, but to your disappointment, he wasn’t anywhere to be found. So, you waited for him.. And waited until the very idea of waiting became too tiresome and you unknowingly fell asleep.

Sneaking away from the gang for private talks with him has been one of your favorite things to do since you joined the gang so long ago. Y'all have always had a knack for avoiding the company of others. But somehow in the midst of squirreling yourselves away, both of you have come to find that you'd prefer being alone together. Eventually, this led to many nights where Arthur would seek you out just to speak his mind, allowing you to see the world through his eyes for a short while. You have not only embraced Arthur's thoughts, but in doing so, you have captured his heart all the same. If it weren't for you, he's certain he'd have lost his damn sanity long ago.

Arthur takes that dusty old gambler's hat off his head and runs his fingers through his hair, taking a moment to calm himself down. His eyes glance over the things laid out upon his bedside table before catching a glimpse of your figure awash by the pale moonlight in his periphery. Your hair is sprawled out over the small blanket you've rolled up into a makeshift pillow; curls flowing like a roaring waterfall, laying a mess, and finally free from the bun that was atop your head earlier in the day. His eyes rake over your voluptuous figure, noting every dip and curve from your plump waist and hips to the ample swell of your breast hidden by a layer of clothing. The moment his mind registers that your presence isn't a dream, his eyes soften and his mind no longer races with anger. You are his peace, the only thing in this world that he cherishes above all else. 

Sighing softly, he finally discards his hat from his hand and places it onto his nightstand before working off his worn leather jacket and satchel, resting them on the back of the chair nearest his shaving mirror. And while he's on his feet, he takes the time to carefully roll down the canvas walls of his tent, unraveling them with the quiet precision of a mouse, and securing them in a few simple knots to hide you two away from the world.

It's quite dark by the time he wanders over to the cot, dark enough not to notice himself brush against your legs as he takes a seat on the edge of the old creaking bed. The familiar, welcomed-warmth of his body pressing against your shins rouses you from your restful slumber. Your eyes flutter open to find his figure perched next to you, shrouded in a darkness so thick that you are sure you're still dreaming. His head and broad shoulders are slumped over as he begins working off his dusty boots, caked with remnants of mud and manure.

"Hmm... Arthur?" Your voice floats through the quiet darkness, laden with fatigue and clearly carrying the lassitude of someone who could fall back asleep at the drop of a hat.

He quickly glances over his shoulder at the sound of your voice, his eyes already adjusted enough to the shadows to see your tired face staring back at him with confusion. He silently curses himself for waking you. "Shhh, Darlin'. Don't wake up on my account. I'll be done in just a minute," Arthur lightly grunts out the last word as he struggles to remove his right boot.

Even in your own weary state, the exhaustion in his tone isn't lost on you. Thinking it best to rouse yourself as quickly as possible to free up his bed for him, you sit yourself up and will yourself awake with a slight stretch. "'S okay. You need rest more 'n me."

"No. You was restin' 'fore I got here. Go 'head and lay back down." He isn't having any of your courtesy tonight. He's worn out, far too tired to argue with you about whether or not it's appropriate for you to share his bed for the night.

The rest of the gang, aside from John, Abigail, Susan, and Hosea know nothing about the true nature of y'all's relationship. Although, the rest of the girls have picked up on the changes you've brought about in Arthur since your arrival so long ago now. Seeing him get all soft and doey-eyed at you over these last few weeks has most definitely tipped them off about what y'all really get up to when you're out running errands together. But they catch wind of you sleeping in his tent tonight, it will all but confirm their suspicions. And yet, you just can't bring yourself to move from the comfort of Arthur's cot with him sitting so close to you.

"What time is it?" The question falls from your lips, carried on the soft currents of a gentle breeze pushing through the tent flaps. Fine sinewy muscles flex beneath his shirt as he leans over to work off his other boot and you are powerless to admire the shape of his body beneath.

A muffled grunt escapes his mouth the moment he finally frees his aching feet from the confines of his boots, "Late," he simply replies.

You take a deep, cleansing breath, allowing the tranquility of the night to settle around you like a soft, comforting blanket. Outside these walls, no sounds of chatter or lively activity can be heard, aside from the gentle hum of crickets by the riverbank and the faint sounds of a squeaking cot stopping abruptly. The gang is unusually quiet, the air filled with repose now that Arthur's returned safely to you. Only a few stragglers tend to the campfires, their focus solely on themselves, interested in anything beyond the flickering flames; not even the sounds of Dutch and Molly or Arthur's irritation can disrupt the peaceful bubble encompassing Clemen's Point tonight.

The plush heel of your palm rubs over one of your eyes as you flit them toward the tent entrance, watching how the wind slightly ruffles the bottom of the canvas. It's only then that you realize that Arthur has tied down the walls for privacy on your account. Normally, he wouldn't bother setting up the walls before collapsing on the cot for a few restless hours of sleep. But tonight, he's gone out of his way to ensure your comfort. Your heart couldn't feel any more full of love for this man by your side, a man who puts your well-being above all else, even above his own. Never did you think that love would have been like this for you: sitting in the comfortable silence of privacy for lovers when that luxury is rarely afforded for women like you. But despite your gratitude for his thoughtfulness, a pang of guilt gnaws at you knowing he made the extra effort while you took up residence in his bed, a cot that's barely big enough for the two of you given your plump frame.

In an attempt to make up for taking up so much space, you roll yourself forward along the thin mattress and quickly slide past him, crawling toward the foot of his bed where his trunk of clothing is kept. You've decided to give him his space for the night, even though in your heart, you'd prefer to stay. Before your foot even slides off the trunk to touch the soft grass below, you're reminded of John stopping by Arthur's tent earlier in the day.

Through a half yawn, you speak, not giving Arthur the chance to catch-on to where you're headed, "'Fore I forget: John stopped by while you was out."

Arthur slightly leans back as his fingertips mindlessly fumble with the buckle of his gun belt. The slight clicking of the metal rings out as he works to remove the clunky accessory from his body. His strong back brushes against you as he moves with the comfortable ease he's come to enjoy over these last few weeks of secretly being yours.

"What about it?" His concentration is split half between himself and the presence of your body behind him.

Your words don't register in his mind until he's completely removed the belt from his body. He figures it was that stagecoach job he reluctantly handed off to John; it had completely slipped from his mind until this very moment, much like yourself. The cool metal filigree atop his trunk moves under your feet as you rest them just shy of slipping off its edge, causing the hazy memory to play out behind your tired eyes.

-

You were just settling yourself in, resting your weary body on the edge of Arthur's cot, just as you're doing now. Little beads of sweat accumulated on your forehead from working out in the intensity of Lemoyne's miserably humid heat. Grimshaw had you and the rest of the women working on camp chores, which you hadn't complained of, since it usually occupies the time until Arthur's usual return. However, the day was far too hot for you to not complain about the harsh conditions she had y'all in. Eventually, evening came and you were finally finished with the laundry, allowing you a moment's rest to seek out the comfort of Arthur's cot.

In the midst of wiping your brow down with one of his neckerchiefs you'd secretly swiped, the hard thump of boots hitting grass caught your attention. You'd anticipated Arthur's arrival, but something didn't feel quite right. The boots didn't move with Arthur's measured stride; they scuffed the grass and dirt, signaling a different, but familiar presence. The moment you look up, you spot John standing at the entrance of the tent, not at all surprised to see you sitting upon his cot as if it were your own.

For a brief moment, his brow furrowed in a mix of frustration and exhaustion. It was as if he was caught between the two warring emotions, each pulling him equally. Clearly, he expected Arthur to be back already.

"He not back yet?" The gruffness of his voice has you believe the former, rather than the latter.

"Not yet," you say in kind, hoping to ease some of his burden. "Was you needin' him for somethin'?"

John did and the news certainly wasn't going to sit well with Arthur at all.

-

When the thoughts finally coalesce within your fatigued mind, you internally grimace knowing that Arthur isn't going to like the reality of the situation. Gentleness has always been your strong suit, especially when it came to dealing with half of the bull-headed men in camp. So, you lace your words with the softest tone you can manage, "Said it weren't as much as y'all had planned on: about fifty-dollars tied up in what little him 'n Charles found."

And you were right. The news doesn't sit well with him at all. All of the compiled frustration of working a nothing-lead and now knowing that the other job didn't pay well either boils beneath the surface of his skin until he explodes like a whistling kettle. Preventing himself from lashing out at you, Arthur kicks his boot toward the other side of the tent, knocking it into the chair. The loud thunk of its sole hitting wood claps harshly and causes you to flinch, startling you fully awake from the suddenness of noise and his movement.

"Every goddamn day it's some shit," he spits through his teeth.

Although you know he'd never intentionally hurt you, the anger in his voice sends a cold shiver down your spine and your stomach flips and churns in knots. Usually, you'd blame yourself, reprimanding your big mouth for even opening up to mention something that you knew wouldn't bode well for his weary mind. But you're in too much of a shock to even consider self-deprecation as an option. Your wide eyes search through the darkness, watching the shadowed outline of the man you love heave in a deep breath to steal his nerves. His shoulders slump forward and head hangs low as he rests his elbows on his knees, utterly defeated from the compiled anger and exhaustion coursing through him.

It's at this moment that you remember the job Dutch sent him on earlier in the day; Arthur didn't want to go and had very little sleep after working on yet another lead that barely got them anywhere. If it had been left up to you, you would've made Arthur stay right here in this bed to get some rest like he deserves. You would've taken care of him so tenderly, but, as usual, what Dutch wanted would have far outweighed any of your concerns. You've learned to recognize the pattern of these situations by now, and given Arthur's aggression, assuming that today's job didn't go quite as planned would be hitting the nail right on its head. You test the waters with a quiet question, "Lead didn't pan out today, did it?"

The soft shake of Arthur's head, coupled with the shadow of his palm running over his face tells you all that you need to know: no, it hadn't gotten him any farther than where he had started. Another useless effort. Your heart aches watching him struggle with so much weight on his shoulders. No matter how strong Arthur might be, he's just a man struggling to carry his own burdens, let alone everyone else's. Ever since settling down here, Dutch has placed so much responsibility on him that you've wanted to scold the man for even mentioning Arthur's name in passing. He's worked himself thin and thread-bare, barely having any time for himself outside of the time he spends on the road traveling from place to place at Dutch's convenience.

Empathy for the man that you've fallen in love with so long ago breaks your heart, aching in desperation to relieve some of his pain. Instead of walking away, keeping to yourself, and silently shouldering any of the blame for setting him off, you choose to stay the night. Despite knowing full well that the girls will have their gossip circulating by morning, Arthur's needs are far more important than any snickering comment or playful jest that'll inevitably come your way.

You scoot back where you were and lean toward him with less apprehension than what your words had suggested. Resting your delicate palm between the broad expanse of his shoulders, you feel him tense at the soft slip of your tender touch over his shirt. The tips of your fingers glide over his shoulder and silently take purchase on the taut muscle there. With a gentle, yet firm pull, you coax Arthur back toward you.

"C'mere. Lean back 'n talk to me..." Your dulcet tone pierces through his irritation, encouraging him to rest in your awaiting arms.

Arthur slowly reclines back, allowing himself to unwind in your embrace as his much larger body sits snugly against your plump bosom. Relaxing doesn't come easy for him. Hell, you'd be surprised if it had, given the high tensions between him and Micah these days or the tiresome back and forth between the two rival families in Rhodes. He has every right to be terse and tensed up like a snake ready to strike, but you aim to comfort him even if that means you risk getting bit. Silence hangs in the air between you, aside from the gentle breaths and the occasional strained grunt catching in the back of his throat while he struggles to get comfortable against you, due to the remaining stress insisting on clinging to his tired body. Your loving hands splay out over the firm expanse of his chest, feeling the steady and reassuring thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palms as you try your best to soothe your brooding lover. It's as if your mere presence cracks away at the anger lingering in the stiff tendons and taut plains of muscle along his torso until he relents and finally lets go. His body relaxes back into you as if he were sinking into the plush, luxurious drapery and bedding found in the finest hotels of Saint Denis; much like the bedding of the room he'd paid for the very same night he had whisked you away to bed you properly for your very first time.

He's silent for a long while, almost reluctant to burden you with his troubles. So, you take it up on yourself to start the conversation by spilling what had happened to you earlier in the day, thinking it might earn a laugh or two, "Well, I'm sure my day weren't as rough as your'n," you hum. "But I did fall off the dock, landing my hind-end right in that water."

The image would usually cause a humorous snort to escape him, but the irritation still bristling at his nerves prevents him from reacting with anything else other than a huff of annoyance, "I told ya to watch your footin' out there. Ain't no use to nobody if you get yourself drowned."

Fortunately, as he chides you his words begin to lack much of the anger from moments ago. But you sigh softly anyways, relenting to his incessant need to protect you from life's dangers, despite being able to handle your own, "I know, I know..."

With a few buttons of that old blue work shirt popped open by your deft fingers, the smallest opening there is just big enough to slip your hand inside and rest it up on the soft but wiry hairs at the very center of his chest. "You shoulda seen me, though," you murmur as you lean down toward his ear, lowering your tone as you press your cheek to the side of his head. "Was drenched head to toe, clothes clingin' to me like feathers on a wet chicken."

He sulks, trying to stay mad at anything and everything he can to give into the bristling anger at the back of his mind, but he can't. No, not when he can clearly envision you all soaked and surprised from falling into that cold lake. A faint smile curls up the corners of his lips and then, just as he almost chuckles, he clears his throat, holding his laugh back. However, you catch on far too quickly for him to play it off so easily.

You gasp softly in mock surprise as if offended by the idea of him laughing at you, "Arthur Morgan. Are you laughin' at me?"

That's when his temperament breaks, giving way to the huff of laughter rumbling through his chest. "I ain't laughin' atchu, per say..." he counters. "Just maybe at the thought of what ya mighta looked like comin' up outta that water: madder 'n hell, hair clingin' to your head," and as if to illustrate his point, Arthur reaches his hand backward and turns his head to try and catch a glimpse of you in the thick shadows, barely making your face distinguishable to his eyes, as he brushes his fingertips over the bits of hair clinging to your forehead from the muggy heat.

Though you narrow your eyes in mock annoyance, you lean into his calloused fingertips, accepting the gentleness of his touch while a giggle of your own creeps up into your throat, "Oh? Is 'at so? Maybe next time I find you out on that dock, I'll think 'bout pushin' ya in 'n lettin' you see how it feels."

He huffs out a skeptical breath and raises an eyebrow at the very thought of you even trying something like that with him. It'd be a futile effort and one that you truly wouldn't consider without the clear consequence of him pulling you right down with him.

And just as soon as the laughter came, it was gone again, replaced instead with a comfortable silence that settles between you two once more, giving him some space to think about what's happened to himself today. Long before the days of your arrival, Arthur would keep to himself and dwell on the ever-present burdens troubling his mind, brooding for hours. But with you, he feels a safety that men like him are rarely afforded.

"Well, if ya think fallin' in Flat Iron's bad..." he continues, "Try goin' halfway 'cross the state lookin' for a man that don't exist. Then when ya find someplace to get a drink, ya end up catchin' a few stray hits from some drunken bastard."

A soft gasp enters your lungs at the revelation. Another fight? You lean over his shoulder, reaching to take his scarred chin into your hand. It's hard to see through the inky-black darkness of the night, but even in the haziness, your eyes can make out the bruising along his jaw, the harsh scrapes of knuckles cutting over his cheek, and the jagged cut on his upper lip. It isn't a rare sight to have him come back battered and bruised by some job from time to time, but that still doesn't quell the uneasiness in your heart at him going through such pain and aggravation.

Your eyebrows furrow in sympathy for your rugged cowboy, eyes softening to match as you breathe out, "Oh, Arthur."

He's quick to dismiss your concern with a soft sigh, pulling away from you to lean forward and distract himself from your sympathetic gaze, "Ah, don'tchu go 'n worry yourself over me none, Darlin'."

Being fussed over or thought of so tenderly still isn't something he's used to; he's shown you that time and time again. But it never deters you from trying to make things better, to make things easier on him however you can. Whatever turmoil Arthur's got rolling about in his mind is far from the usual and it takes patience to understand; a patience that he finds only you can give.

You reach your hand out toward him. The delicate ends of your fingertips reach up to brush over the nape of his sun-kissed neck, grazing over the ends of his slightly overgrown hair, silently making a note to yourself that you'll trim it for him tomorrow. His body shuffles slightly backward, leaning in to accept your touch while he slips off his suspenders: pulling them down his shoulders heavy with burden, before taking his time to unbutton that tattered old work shirt you're so used to seeing around his muscular frame.

"'Sides..." he starts. "I did have some good that came from today."

"What's 'at?" you hum softly with a lilt of dryness. "Hittin' that feller back?"

He can't help the chuckle rising in his throat at the dry sarcasm touching your words. Arthur shakes his head softly, "Nah, Darlin', " the last word strains from his lips as he rises to his feet with a groan, leaving the safe comfort of your touch as he stands to undo his pants.

He glances over his shoulder, peering down at you through the darkness with a smirk curling up at the right corner of his mouth. Watching as your sweet eyes follow his every movement, Arthur turns to face you, allowing you to gaze at him as he slowly pushes the brass button through the eyelet at the top of his riding pants. The fabric opens effortlessly, revealing the red cloth of his union suit underneath. The sight of him before you, suspenders hanging loosely on either side of his long legs and his pants aching to be peeled from his strong form has your lips parted in awe at the man standing mere inches away from you.

He continues from just seconds before, "Seein' you laid out on my bed, purdy as a dream."

After stepping out of his pants now crumpled around his ankles, Arthur lowers one knee upon the cot nearest your thighs. He leans over you, using his thick fingers to tilt your chin upward, meeting his crystalline eyes. "Was one helluva sight I could get used to seein'."

The low timbre of his voice sends a shockwave of desire straight through your heart and into the aching pit of your stomach. Your lips draw up into a shy smile, and a faint dusting of pink envelops your cheeks just like the moment you'd first professed your feelings for him under that canopy of trees he led you through so blindly. Although it hasn't been long since that fateful night, the closeness of your relationship has escalated so quickly that your head and heart dizzy at the mere mention of his name.

Arthur's calloused thumb brushes over the supple swell of your bottom lip, enticing you to part them just for him. You comply, of course, unable to resist how a ghost of his touch makes you so pliant beneath him. And when he leans down to meet your lips with his own, your heart swells with tender affection. Those warm, slightly chapped, but pleasantly plush lips are heady as they connect with a passion that stokes the burning coals of desire in the very base of your core.

"Been waitin' to use that one for a while, hmm?" You hum contently while blindly guiding your hands toward the flare of muscle encasing his ribs. God, how you could worship this man and never tire of feeling how warm, how strong he is beneath your palms.

"Depends. It workin'?" He murmurs, smirking cockily against your lips.

Your mind begins to spin as the calloused pad of his thumb dips from your chin and swipes over your jawline. His fingers splay out over the side of your neck, fingertips gripping you with tender passion to hold you in place. He could easily break you, bend you with his finger and thumb as if you were nothing more than a twig beneath his rough and weathered hands. Never have you felt so small and fragile, always knowing in your heart that you took up much more room than other women. But, when you're with Arthur, he makes you feel as delicate as the petals on a beautiful flower, something so precious and worth loving; it's so much more than you'd ever experienced in your whole life. He touches you so tenderly as if you were made from nothing more than ash, a veritable pile of matter waiting to slip through his fingers at any moment.

You want to hum your praises to your lover, to let him know exactly how much you've wanted this, how much you've missed him, how well he's kissing you, touching you... But you can't. There are no words. He's stolen them from you, drawing all the air out of your lungs with his lips, leaving you gasping for the air coated in his divine masculine scent: sweet tobacco, wood ash, and mossy earth. He encompasses you, wrapping one arm around your waist as he pulls you close to his body, all the while shuffling himself forward to join you on the small cot. Your back presses against the hard wooden frame of the wagon making up the other half of his tent. He presses against you, holding you close to his strong body as he slides his right hand from your jaw, trailing it down over the soft skin of your neck, and down to your chest, where he heatedly palms your breast hidden just beneath your blouse. To have him touch you like this, like a man frenzied and dying for a taste of intimacy, has your head spinning and your heart on the verge of exploding if it hadn't already; for all you know, you could've died the moment his lips crashed into yours, and all that's left is a heaven you'd only dreamt of.

A low growl of appreciation rumbles through his chest for the plumpness of your body. Most men do not know the fine pleasures that extra curves on a woman can bring. But Arthur sure does. And oh how he worships your full figure, despite your opinions about yourself. His large, calloused palm shifts his attention to your other breast, kneading you tenderly while his lips work from your mouth, and instead, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses over your jawline and supple neck.

His name is a breathless sigh across your trembling lips as you allow your hands to explore his body in return. Touching over the large expanse of his torso and gliding your fingertips over the worn fabric of his union suit, you desperately search for the button that would bare him wholly to you. In the time it takes you to undo one of his buttons, his skilled fingers undo two of yours. Button after button unthreads upon both of your bodies, though his hands are much quicker at ridding you of your layers, leaving them strewn about on the ground until he's stripped you down and laid you beneath him in nothing more than your chemise and bloomers to conceal your decency. Arthur then crawls over you, his movements deliberate and enticingly slow as he cages you in with his hands pressed into the thin mattress on either side of your head. Shadows danced and shifted restlessly, playing tricks on your perception as you try to focus on what little of Arthur you could see through the haziness, making the absence of light feel alive. To feel him above you like this has your stomach in knots, tightening with a firey passion that's ready to snap at any given moment. Hearts are pounding, thrumming wildly against your ribcages like birds desperate to escape the confines of your chests. You hear it, hear how his breath shutters with each wild thump of his heart, and you feel it in his breath as it puffs over your cheek. He's losing himself to you and you him, slipping so quickly that rational thinking is no longer of use. You need him and he needs you.

The flaps of his union suit hang loosely from his body, allowing your hands to reach in and press flat over his heated skin. He shivers slightly at the contact, his muscles tensing and flexing beneath the tender meeting of your palms placed upon his scarred, goose-pimpled flesh. Your fingertips ghost over a scar on the right side of his ribcage, causing your face to crinkle with sorrow for what hardship your lover, this great outlaw, has had to endure in his lifetime. The damaged tissue is the result of a nasty fight he had as a young man: when someone stabbed him with the broken end of a beer bottle; they had aimed to kill him, but he had survived. The spot still aches with the memory of Hosea digging out the shards of broken glass from the angry, bloodied wound. But somehow, the way your delicate touch brushes over that old scar with such love and care causes the outlaw's skin to tingle, and his cock to ache with the pride of knowing that you love him so.

He takes his time with you here, laid out beneath him like a perfect little thing he's captured and kept safe by hiding you away in the privacy of his tent. After the day he's had, he wants to savor every bit of loveliness he's blessed with in your presence, so he can't rush this with you, not now. Arthur takes his time admiring you, letting his eyes rake over what he's able to see, and feeling what he cannot. Leaning down close enough to your face to capture that seductive glint in your glittering, lust-blown eyes, Arthur searches for any change within them as he maneuvers his right hand away from the mattress to trail along your sensitive flesh. The rough pads of his fingers ghost over your thigh, caressing the plump deposit of flesh along your middle, snaking up over your collarbones, and over your neck in search of your delicate face before sealing your mouth with his own in a kiss so tender you whimper from the initial contact.

Shivers of anticipation roll through him as your body responds to his touch: back arching off the bed, hands pulling on the nape of his neck to hold him down and assure that his lips won't leave yours, and the way your bloomer-clad hips roll upward in search of some much-needed friction. God how he could spend hours with you like this, letting his hands roam over your body to make you shiver and plead for any ounce of affection that he can give you. Your needy state is only exacerbated by the slight tremble in your thighs as he snakes his hands down over the pillowy flesh, seeking out the waistband of your bloomers. Ridding you of the cloth separating your pussy from his line of sight is an easy feat: the clad, slightly damp undergarment peels away from your plump hips with ease at the help of his precision; the Lemoyne heat causes the clothing to stick to your slightly dampened skin, but dammit if the temperature pales in comparison to how heated Arthur makes you feel. He tosses them down onto the ground, and places his hands upon your knees, spreading them apart as he sits above you to admire the feeling of your plump body beneath him.

His hand is unhurried and exacting, gently brushing his calloused knuckles down over your inner thigh, then lightly petting them over your soaked need covered by a soft thatch of hair. He can't see you fully, but that does nothing to stop his mind from envisioning how your cunt glistens with slick, all for him. The moment he presses his fingertips to your seam, parting you with the practiced precision of a lover, he lets a low, ragged breath escape his nose in appreciation for how wet you are. You shiver and instinctively try to close your knees from the pleasant surprise of his touch, and fuck does it feel good to have him brush over your folds like that.

"Always so ready, ain'tchya?" He murmurs, a teasing lilt to his voice as he takes his time in savoring the feeling of your slick upon his fingertips.

Your hips involuntarily twitch, bucking upward into his hand, seeking out his fingertips to make him swirl them over your aching little clit. You want him to touch you right where you need him, feel him right on that little spot upon that nub of nerves that makes your mind swirl and your body careen into a blissful orgasm. But he doesn't give that to you, not yet. He wants to work you over slowly, savoring every little sound he can draw out of those pretty lips. You're far too shy to answer him directly, instead favoring to cover your face with your forearms as he takes pleasure in taunting you like this. But the moment his fingertips threaten to part your folds, you let out a delicate little noise, someplace between a whine and a prayer to let him know that you're in no mood to endure his teasing tonight, "Arthur... Please."

Oh, how he loves to hear the sound of you begging; he's already half-hard at the idea of you wanting his touch, let alone hearing how desperate you are for it. He answers your prayer with a long, smooth stroke of his thumb parting your puffy, wet folds. You keen at how just a simple touch causes your stomach to flutter and your slit to clench around nothing at all. Your thighs, thick with strength, covered by a layer of squishy softness, part for him, relaxing lazily as he guides his thumb over each of your labia.

It was nearly impossible to get you to lay like this for him a few weeks ago; you'd been concerned about the unsightly appearance of your inner thighs: scarred over with dimples and imperfections, as well as the slight discoloration of having them rub together after so many years of being a larger woman. Most women that you've seen naked, don't have the same ailments upon their bodies as you have on yours. Just the other day when bathing with some of the girls in the lake, you'd noticed that even on Karen's body, a woman closer to your size, still didn't have the scars or discoloration across her skin in the same way that you have. And that night that Arthur had you laid out for him for the very first time, he'd noticed that apprehension in you, taking it as having second thoughts. But once you had explained how you felt about your own body, he hadn't even given the idea a single thought; his own body is mauled up, covered in old and ugly scars, and carrying more than three colors from all his time spent out in the sun. So, he couldn't have cared less about some scars, a little extra hair, weight, or even the discoloration over your thighs. What he did care about, however, was making sure that you felt loved in spite of it all. And now, it feels no different. To have you spread your legs for him like this, without a single worry holding you back, is a goddamn treat.

Fuck how good it feels to have the soft press of his thumb tease over your cunt, tracing the delicate path between your weeping entrance, to your swelling bud with a pressure so teasing and light that you squirm to feel more. Your plush lips tuck between your teeth to hold back any sounds that give away what you two are doing in here after dark, but it's useless; the lewd sounds of his thumb circling over your clit echo throughout the tent: a dead giveaway to anyone that dare walk by. Holding your breath like this isn't easy, not when the pounding of your heart echoes in your ears and your chest feels as if it's being seared from the inside out. A ragged gasp finally inhales through your nostrils, desperately trying to fulfill your body's need for air when you can no longer restrain your breaths.

He huffs out a low chuckle in amusement at the state he has you in: clearly desperate and in need to have your clit rubbed just the way you like it.

"Hmm.. Hear that?" He rasps out before going silent, letting you hear the sounds of your own slick being spread over your soaked cunt. He only continues when he finally reaches your clit, circling over the throbbing little nerve-ending to make you sigh out in pleasure for him. "So goddamn wet. All for me."

In a blur of movements, Arthur's chapped lips and teeth skim over your knee, slowly working their way down over your inner thighs. He nips at you, earning a few little squeaks and giggles until he kisses over your plump mound. His thumbs take hold of either side of your cunt, spreading you open to let the night air hit your wet skin. It's pleasant like this, to feel yourself spread out beneath him like a meal ready to be devoured and dammit if he ain't starved for a taste. Being eaten out has quickly become one of your favorite acts of intimacy in recent weeks; his tongue is so skilled at finding spots on you, making you come so deliciously, that most days it's all you've been able to think about. Hell, it's all you're thinking about now as his head sinks down to your core and his hot breath fans out over your aching need. His tongue slips out of that perfect mouth and flattens out over your seam, lapping at you once to earn him that little sigh of pleasure escaping your throat.

Your hands immediately seek out his head, combing through his slightly sweat-dampened hair as he swirls the blunt tip of his tongue over your clit.

"A-Agh, Arthur.. N-Not so fast," you whine out in protest, yet your hips bucking up into his mouth says otherwise. But he relents, nonetheless, giving you a moment of reprieve before he delves back in at the same pace.

He's aiming to make you cum quick and hard: slithering his tongue over your clit with the precision of knowing exactly what side and spot makes you writhe beneath him. Just left and then a little upward beneath that little hood of skin and he has you singing for him. Explicitves roll off your tongue one after another in between sweet little sounds that praise him for what effort he's putting in just for you. To hear you, feel you crumble beneath him like this is better than any robbery or score he gets out on the road. But just before he lets you come, he pulls his head back slightly and puffs cool air over your clit, making you whine.

"Shh.. Shh.. 'M gonna let ya cum, Darlin'. Don'tchu worry 'bout that none. 'M gonna take real good care of ya," he hums lowly as his lips and bristly scruff brush over your quivering inner thighs.

His promise isn't far off from fulfillment, not when he sinks his tongue into your heat and presses his opened mouth over the entirety of your cunt. He sucks hard, feeling your walls constrict around the wriggling muscle of his tongue as he laps inside your spongey center. Your thighs tremble with need as he fucks you with his mouth and slurps up your slick, drinking in as much of you as he can and relishing the tangy sweetness of your delectable taste. You throw your head back against the rolled-up blanket you had been using as a pillow earlier in the night, all while he eats you out like a man who's desperate to consume you.

But the aching throb of his cock, constricted by the thin fabric of his union suit, is far too angry for him to ignore. He's got to have you, now.

As he shuffles back up to his knees, leaving your cunt longing to cum on his tongue, you flutter your eyes open and snap your head up to try and catch a glimpse of what he's doing. Clearly, you ain't pleased with him teasing you like this, but when you feel his fervent movements, you realize that he's trying to work off his union suit. He wastes no time it peeling it away from his torso, but the moment he starts to tug it down his thighs, allowing his weeping cock to spring free, he nearly topples over and just about slams head-first into your body. Thankfully, he catches himself in the knick of time, grunting out a few curses as he grows impatient with his incapability to slide that damn fabric off his legs.

Amid his struggle to bare himself, you can't hide the giggle creeping up your throat as he curses under his breath, frustrated with how the fabric insists on clinging to his muscular legs. You help him slide the old red union suit off his body by digging your heels against the back of his thighs and pushing it down the long length of his legs until it reaches his ankles. The undergarment hangs loosely off his feet, causing him to kick it haphazardly off the side of the bed, letting it fall onto his trunk to skirt down on the grass below.

The instant his turgid length brushes over your inner thigh it twitches with the anticipation of feeling your tight, wet walls clamped around him, milking every drop of spend nestled away in his balls; spend that he so desperately wishes he could drain right inside of you. For now, however, just a single brush of your fingertips against him is enough. He has to hold his breath as he guides your delicate palm over his velvety shaft to stroke the needy ache away; if he isn't careful, he'd cum just like this. He hisses, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth as your fingers wrap around him and your thumb seeks out the weeping slit of his blunt tip. Arthur is, by no means, a small man: his legs are long, torso strong and wide, feet and hands are like bear paws, and his cock.. God, his cock is big. You could use both of your hands to stroke him and still, there'd be enough room for his tip to be entirely untouched. But you make sure as you stroke him with one hand, you pay extra attention to his tip, smearing his drooling precum over as much of him as you can, even down to the dark and wiry curls along his base and balls.

He's trying so hard to hold himself back, but with each tender pass of your thumb over that sweet spot along the underside of his tip, the last remnants of his patience crack away. You feel him crumbling like this, crumbling into a frenzied mess of low-hummed breaths and grunts through gritted teeth, and you fucking love it. Before you can even think about the desire roaring in the cavernous pit of your stomach, aching to be quelled, he smashes his lips into yours so hard that you're sure one of you is bleeding. The pain of his busted lip splitting back open is an angry reminder of the frustration still lingering at the back of his mind; he's as tensed up, pent-up, as a taut rope ready to snap.

With a quick movement, he swats your hand away, preventing you from jacking him into a fast climax. Then, in one swift motion, he grabs hold of your thighs and forcefully yanks you toward him, making the round swell of your plump ass plant firmly against the hard front of his strong body. Your thighs spread out, squishing over and conforming to the contour of his hips, the intimate contact leaving you both ragged and breathless. Your heart drums a frantic rhythm in your ears, drowning out all other thoughts and sensations that belong to you alone. It's as if your mind has descended into a tangled web of strangled noises and glorious sensations that only Arthur seems able to untangle or soothe. The faint outline of his body nestled between your thighs is a constant reminder that nothing beyond this moment, beyond him hidden away with you inside of this tent, matters.

The hard length of his turgid pride parts your folds, gliding over the slick thatch of curls usually concealing your cunt from his eyes, but with his sight hindered, he can explore every single nook, roll, and crevice without you shying away. His weight bares down on you as he holds your legs into the crook of his arms, nearly bending you in half as he drags his cock over your seam. It feels so good like this, even though you can hardly breathe with the thickness of your thighs pressing against your already plump stomach, but when the tip of his cock knocks into your clit, it makes the strained pain well worth it. The back of your hand flies over your mouth as he continues on like this, pleasuring himself and you with each agonizingly slow thrust. Hearing your ragged, strangled half-breaths, he releases your thighs, leaving them to splay out lazily on either side of his hips as he leans down to steal a tender kiss.

Upon breaking his lips away from yours, the low hum of his voice finds its way through the haziness of your lust-broken mind as he murmurs against the shell of your ear, "Gonna take ya just like this..."

Chapped lips skim over your jawline and trail to your lips, where he gives you another tender kiss filled with gentle affection: polar opposite to the rough sex-driven outlaw you've gotten a taste of tonight, but aligning perfectly with the man you fell in love with all those years ago. Scraped knuckles skim against your slick heat as he slips his hand in between you both and presses flat over the thick, dark curls at the base of his throbbing length. His fingers spread wide over his pubic bone, holding his cock between his middle and ring finger, stiffening himself outward to seek out your clenched entrance. With a slight pullback of his hips, he guides himself to your slit, catching right on the taut muscle before pressing forward and splitting you open.

A soft cry hums in the back of your throat and he shushes you so tenderly, sliding his hands over your knees and down your shins to soothe the ache he knows you're feeling. You're so fucking tight, hardly different from the first night he took you and bedded you properly back at the Saint's Hotel. It nearly shatters him when your walls flutter around him, squeezing and pulling him in inch by inch as if you were carved out just for him to sink into. He stills only for a short moment, letting you feel him nestled up against your cervix before he slides himself out and enters you again with a sharp snap of his hips. Lingering anger and frustration from the shit day he's had still pulsates at the back of his mind, desperate to be released as the tension in his body rises.

The tight walls of your cunt clench onto him for dear life as jolts of pleasure and pain rack through your body.

Behind the shield of your palm, you cry out, "A-Agh, Arthur!"

You're trying your best to be quiet, to still your ragged breaths and hide your whimpers, but he's making it incredibly difficult. Each slow drag of his cock coming out of you with a satisfying pop, only to pierce you with a hard roll of his hips, sends you reeling. You're seeing stars, shaking from the pleasurable burn of the passionate fire he's stirring within you. Strong hands grip your hips, keeping you still as his thrusts guide you into a steady rhythm that makes the old wooden frame creak and groan with every subtle and sharp movement that your bodies make. Being discreet has left his mind entirely, no longer concerned with what sounds are coming out of his tent as he fucks you good and proper. No, he couldn't care less when the sounds of your slick pussy squelches as he presses himself flush against you and groans against the pulse point of your neck.

"Don't want ya hidin' them purdy sounds, Darlin'. Let 'em out for me," he grunts out between slow but hard thrusts.

Usually, intimacy like this is savored in the shaking breaths and whispered little sounds only audible to your ears, but tonight... Tonight Arthur is something else entirely. Primal. A damn, dirty outlaw. You love this new view of him, but you can't allow yourself to let the others hear. What if someone were walking by? Or Hosea or Dutch hear you two going at it? You wouldn't be able to look at them for a week! But he doesn't give you much choice in the matter: snaking his hand down between your bodies, his muscular forearm presses against your plush belly while his thumb immediately finds your clit.

"O-Oh, God," you whine as the pad of his thumb circles over you, followed by his name dripping off your tongue like the sweetest honey. "At's it... Such a good girl takin' me so deep. Mmm.. Gonna cum 'round me ain'tchu? Gonna give me a real good one, baby?"

God damn him if his mouth ain't filthy. The way he croons out those little praises and words of encouragement has your climax building faster than you ever could have anticipated. And the swirling of his thumb? It has you shaking, whining, pleading, practically begging for your release as he talks you through it, "C'mon, Darlin'... I feel ya squeezin' me real tight," he praises, "'At's it. Focus on me."

With one more swipe of his thumb over your sensitive clit and his cock hitting that sweet spot right against your cervix, you're tensing, digging your heels into the thin mattress, and cumming around him so hard that you see white. It takes everything in you not to scream, but the strangled sound coming out of you is loud enough to warrant some head-turning if anyone were awake. The moment your walls flutter and start milking him, he falls forward and drops down onto his elbows to cage you in. His thrusts are relentless as he takes his anger out on you in this way, using every movement of his body to release the bristling anger clutching onto his mind like a damn vice grip. No matter how fervent and frenzied, he's still careful not to hurt you, always thinking about how good he's making you feel while chasing his own release.

Arthur isn't a man of many words, but when you're gripped around him like this, clutching him with your arms, legs, and your fluttering pussy, he is downright mouthy. "Oh, such a good girl for listenin' to me. Shh.. Shh. I gotchu, baby. I gotchu."

His mouth hovers over yours, claiming your lips as he kisses you hard and possessively. Moans spill out of you, traveling through the expanse of his throat until it hums within his chest and he echoes one back. To talk like this with him, in a language only two lovers could understand, is far more intimate and pleasurable than anyone could ever know. Arthur is yours and you are his, no ownership or proprietary claim, but just the pleasant knowledge that both of you choose to love each other is enough.

With a few more rolls of his hips, he's nearing his own orgasm: length twitching and engorging as his balls tighten. In desperation, he quickly climbs off of you and pulls his cock out from your core. His right hand tightens into a fist around himself, and although you can't see it, you hear the lewd, effortless slide of his hand vigorously pumping over his tip like his life depends on cumming for you.

Finally, his orgasm hits him, working its way out of his tightened balls and spurting over your plump mound and belly. If he could see his spend on you like this, it'd be enough to make him cum all over again. But both of you are far too exhausted to even consider that so soon. You're still shaking, panting heavily as he lowers himself down onto you, not caring that his sticky spend is now covering the front of his body as well, as your sweaty bodies come down from such an enormous height.

His touch traces a slow, deliberate path down your leg until his fingertips reach the softness of your hip, where he gives your flesh a gentle but firm grasp. Reveling in the smoothness of your skin and the feel of your curvy form beneath his palm, he lets out a slow exhale through his nose. The heat of his breath spills over your neck and shoulder, doubled by the heavy breaths leaving his lips as he lazily peppers your clammy skin with kisses.

After a long stretch of quiet spent nestled into his hair, breathing in the comforting remnants of campfire intermingled with his musky scent, your breathing finally begins to steady. Slowly, your senses return to you one by one, like pieces of a puzzle falling back into place. Shock and disbelief jolt through your entire being as it finally hits you how easily he manipulated your body with his own strength and skill as a lover. You'd heard of men being rough with women, but never did you think it could be this pleasurable.

Your voice finally cuts through the relative silence, carrying a deep sense of satisfaction and astonishment with it, "Wh-here in the hell did that come from?"

An amused chuckle rumbles inside his chest, slightly huffing out of his nose as he slightly pushes himself off of you to gauge your reaction, "Reckon I were a little pent up. Why? You like it?"

To say you liked it was an understatement, but you'd like anything as long as Arthur were right there with you to experience it just the same. While his right hand slides up over the plump contours of your body, appreciatively grabbing at the plushness of your stomach and breasts, he lovingly brushes a few stray strands of hair off your forehead stuck there by the sweat covering your body. You hum softly in agreement to his question, deciding that you did enjoy this different side of him you hadn't expected, despite his rough exterior.

"Mhmm.. 'S always good with you," the loving words you murmur cling to his heart and earn you a pleasant kiss that tastes like the remnants of his busted lip.

As his lips trail back down over your jawline, his beard delightfully scratches over your sensitive skin, causing you to hum in appreciation for him loving you like a man who worships the very ground you walk upon. Your own body follows his lead, fingertips glide down the entire length of his back, tracing the contour of muscle that hint at the immense strength lurking beneath. You can't help but marvel at his shape, this man you love so dearly, and how his body was molded for love and carved from such a hard life. While your fingertips glide across his muscled frame, you can feel the subtle shift of his body as he adjusts himself on top of you, notricebly more relaxed than before: a clear testamanet to the calming eddect your touch has on him.

Curiosity peaked, you murmur, "You relaxed now?" as your fingertips idly trace the two little dimples that grace the base of his spine, just above the firm and muscular curve of his ass.

An amused smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, obviously enjoying the path your fingertips are carving out over his back. He'd never admit it, but he loves it when you grab him unabashedly, palming his ass like he so often does to you. The warmth of his cock brushing over your leg, hardening much faster than he expected for a man his age, tells you all you need to know.

He agrees with you, humming softly against your chest as he inches himself down to where his mouth hovers over the plump swell of your breasts, "Thinkin' that we just might need a little more time for relaxin', don'tchu?"

A/N: Big thanks for the divider from @saradika-graphics and the beautiful gif from @sunwingsunset, please go send them some love for their work! <3

Other creators that expressed interest and drew inspiration from: @subpopizzy , @cassietrn , @coltermorning , @redwritr, @zae-heeyyy, @twola , @amorgansgal

Please do go check all the blogs I tagged! You surely won't be disappointed!

As always, sending my love - M. <3

[7ndipity]

Better For You

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: When Yoongi admits to feeling jealous about you spending so much time with Hobi, you end up making a slightly accidental confession.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: +18 Mdni, smut, oral(m. rec), marking, unprotected sex(don’t that pls), Yoongi being a big ol softie

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! As I mentioned yesterday, this was supposed to go up last night, but I got distracted with the ship game and didn’t get to finish editing it. Also, this ended up being waay longer than I intended cause I got carried away again(sorry not sorry?) Idk, they’re in love, your honor

Masterlist

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As you let yourself into your apartment, you stopped short at the sight of an extra, much larger pair of shoes by the door, confusion flickering through your mind for a second before relaxing, a smile creeping across your face as you set your things down, recognizing the shoes as belonging to your boyfriend.

You had given Yoongi a key to your place a few weeks back, deciding it was the easiest solution to his chronically late hours at the studio and his insistence on sleeping next to you most nights.

Now, he could let himself in whenever he got there, and you had quickly become used to his sudden appearances in your apartment, rolling over during the night and finding him sound asleep next to you never failed to bring a tiny smile to your face.

As you wandered through the house in search of him, you started to hear the faint sound of the shower running in the master bathroom, his bag and jacket on the chair by your bed.

While you waited for him to finish up in the shower, you decided to swap out of your town clothes and into something more comfortable, opting for some pajama shorts and one of Yoongi’s tshirts he’d ‘accidentally’ left for you to wear.

As you were pulling the shirt over your head, you heard the bathroom door open behind you, a pair of arms immediately snaking their way around your waist, his scent filling your senses instantly making all the tension in your body vanish as you leaned back into his hold.

“Hi.” Yoongi mumbled, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Hey.” You chuckled, turning in his hold to face him. “I didn’t think you’d be here this early, I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?”

“Nah, I went to wash up as soon as I got here, missed you tho.” He mumbled, placing the faintest kiss on your lips, pulling you along in a tired hug as he walked backwards to the bed, settling you on his lap. “Where were you off to today? I thought it was your day off?”

“It is, I just went for lunch with Hobi, and then we ended up doing some shopping as well.” You said, leaning down to connect your lips with his. As you kissed him though, you noticed that his movements suddenly became a bit hesitant, following your lead almost automatically.

Pulling back, you could tell something was on his mind, Yoongi’s gaze avoiding your own as he pressed his lips together, an expression you’d seen enough to know something was definitely bothering him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked gently.

“Nothing, ‘m fine.” He said unconvincingly.

“Yoongs?” You pressed, studying him carefully.

He sighed. “It’s nothing, seriously.”

“It’s clearly not nothing, not if it’s bothering you this much.” You shifted on his lap, looping your arms over his shoulders to rub the back of his neck soothingly. He instinctively leaned into your touch, but said nothing.

“Baby please, talk to me.” You encouraged, using the petname you knew he had a weak spot for.

He fiddled with the hem of your shorts as he thought for a long moment, still not meeting your eyes when he finally spoke.

“You’re always with Hobi.” He mumbled.

You frowned. “I thought you liked me being friends with him?”

“I do, it’s just,” He sighed. “I don’t know, it’s like you’re just always together, and you always seem so happy with him, and I know it’s stupid, but it makes me feel a little…” His voice trailed off.

“Jealous?” You offered.

He nodded, glancing up at you.

“Baby,” You leaned in, kissing over his face as you spoke. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I do like spending time with Hobi, but it’s nothing compared to how much I love being with you.”

“I know, I just get those stupid thoughts sometimes that maybe someone like him would be better for you.” He said, voice growing quieter as he spoke.

“Yoongi,” You said seriously, cupping his face as you spoke. “There is not a single person in this world better suited for me than you, you hear? You don’t have anything to worry about, I love you far too much for anyone else to ever take your place.”

Yoongi’s eyes went wide as they flicked up to meet yours, fully meeting your gaze at last as you realized what you’d said.

Despite having been together as long as you had, neither of you had yet to say those three words out loud.

“You love me?” He asked, looking up at you softly.

You felt your cheeks heat up slightly at your sudden admission, but you nodded, trying to ignore your feelings of self-consciousness. “Of course I do. You're everythi-”

Your words were cut off by Yoongi’s lips crashing against yours, kissing you hard enough to take your breath away.

Your hands flew back to his shoulders in an attempt to steady yourself as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip to elicit a surprised gasp from you and allowing him to delve into your mouth, swirling his tongue around yours before you had to pull back for air. Even then though, his lips never left you, trailing down over your jaw and neck, leaving wet kisses in his wake.

“I love you too.” He breathed, laving over your skin with his tongue before sucking a mark below your ear. “God, I fucking love you so much.”

Your hips twitched forward involuntarily at his ministrations, making you aware of his growing bulge pressing against your core. You rolled your hips again, making him let out a soft grunt against your lips as his grip on your hips tightened and urged you on, the few layers of clothes between you creating just enough friction to make your mind go fuzzy with need.

You knew you could easily make yourself cum from this if you kept going, but you had other plans.

You pulled back, slipping your hand down between your bodies to palm at him over his shorts, making him let out a low growl against your lips, twitching against your hand before you pulled away again, sliding off his lap and settling between his knees.

Glancing up at him for permission, which he gave with a weak nod, you quickly tugged his shorts down enough to let his cock spring free, tip already flushed and dripping precum.

Wasting no time, you wrapped a hand around him tightly, pumping his length as you leaned down to give him a few kitten licks before sinking your mouth down on him, making his eyes roll back.

“Fuck, Y/n.” He groaned loudly, gripping the sheets beneath him tightly as you began to bob your head, setting a pace that quickly had him bucking up into your mouth.

You looked up at him again, watching closely as he lost himself in the feeling of you, the sight making you press your thighs together to try and ease the growing ache between them.

Just as you felt him beginning to tense, nearing his release, his hands suddenly gripped yours, tugging your hair to stop your movements as his dark eyes burned into yours. “I need to be inside you, please.”

Heat flooding your stomach at his words, you nodded, quickly climbing back to your feet.

You tried to straddle him again, but Yoongi flipped you over so he was now hovering over you, grinding his hips into yours teasingly and making you whine as your head fell back against the pillows.

“So pretty, always so pretty for me.” He mumbled, making his way down your front, leaving teasing kisses down your chest and tummy as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your shorts, yanking them and your underwear down in the same motion.

“Such a pretty pussy.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your mound, making you shudder at the feeling of his hot breath ghosting over where you needed him most. “And it’s all mine.”

He traced a finger between your folds, making your jolt at the sudden stimulation.

“Always so wet for me.” He smirked, spreading your arousal around as he toyed with your clit.

“Yoongi,” You whispered, feeling increasingly desperate. “Please.”

He only teased you for a moment before climbing back up and settling over you, bracing one hand by your head as he used the other to position himself at your entrance.

“Ready?” He asked in a breathless tone.

You nodded. “Yes, just please!”

In one swift motion, he slid inside you, making you both moan as he stretched you out. Once he was fully sheathed inside of you, he paused to let you adjust, staring down at you with absolute adoration.

“I love you.” He breathed, slowly drawing his hips back and thrusting into you, making you cry out.

His words and kisses were soft, but there was an edge of desperation to his movements, thrusting deep and hard, angling his hips to hit that spot that had your back arching off the bed as you repeated his name like a mantra.

“Say it again.” He groaned, struggling to keep his pace as he neared his high.

“Wha-?” You whined, mind hazy with the feeling of his cock dragging against your sensitive walls.

“Say it again, please!” He gasped, the earlier hints of desperation bleeding into his voice and clearing your head just enough to understand, pulling him close so your lips were almost touching.

“I love you.” You whispered.

He pounded into you even harder, making you cry out from the almost overwhelming pleasure as the coil inside you wound tighter and tighter.

Feeling you start to twitch and clench around him, Yoongi quickly slipped a hand down between you to rub frantically at your clit, making your whole body shake as you teetered on the edge.

“Cum for me, please!” He begged.

At his words, the coil snapped, your vision going white as heat coursed through you, spasming in his hold, the only sound able to escape from you a choked whine.

Feeling you cum around him was all he needed to hit his high as well, thrusting messily into you a few more times before burying himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he painted your insides with his release.

Exhausted, he half-collapsed on top of you, catching himself on his elbows before fully falling on top of you.

“Are you okay?” You asked,

“Yeah, ’m fine.” He laughed, trying to catch his breath. “I’m great actually.”

He propped his chin on your chest, smiling up at you tiredly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You grinned, combing your fingers through his hair, feeling your heart twist as you looked at him. You didn’t know what you’d done to deserve him.

You both lay quietly for a bit, basking in the peace of the moment as your breathing returned to normal. After a few minutes, he moved to pull out, but you stopped him, making him glance up at you in question.

“Stay,” You murmured sleepily. “I wanna stay close to you.”

Smiling softly at your half-sleeping state, he nodded. “I’ll stay as close as you want.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Reader Receives PeggyNats Nudes Accidentally

Authors note: For my ease, all of the drabbles for the couples will have reader receiving the couples nudes in the same manner (Though circumstances do differ). I apologize if this becomes repetitive.

Authors note 2: accidentally went a bit long with this one. Though I'm sure y'all won't mind lol

Warnings: smut (eating out and mirror sex)

Word count: 1198

Marvel Masterlist How They React To Masterlist

   Both women step out of their shared shower and grab their towels, beginning the process of drying off. Once their bodies are dry they step off the mat in front of the shower and move closer to the counters 

   Natasha lets out a chuckle as she tousles the small towel that's on her girlfriend's head, earning her a playful glare from the brunette, “Cheeky little thing, aren’t you?”

   Nat smirks, “Don’t lie, you like when I’m playful”

   “Indeed I do, but that doesn't mean I won't tease you for it” Peggy admits with a smile and a wink that has butterflies erupting in Natashas belly

   Seemingly oblivious to the feelings she's caused the redhead, Peggy continues to towel off her hair, giving Nat the perfect view of her bare muscles flexing. Her ogling however doesn't go as unnoticed, but the Brit chooses not to say anything and instead waits for Natasha to make a move

   Nats eyes shamelessly take in every curve and crease of Peggy's body. From her toned shoulders, down to her solid abs and continuing down past her core, which she admittedly stops to admire a bit longer, until finally stopping at her thighs

   “Bozhe, pochemu ty dolzhna byt' takoy chertovski privlekatel'noy(God, why do you have to be so damn attractive)?” she mutters, already forming a plan in her head

  “Sorry darling, I didn't quite catch that”

   Nat hums and takes a step closer to the other woman, making her turn to look at her. The mix of adoration and pure hunger in the shorter woman's eyes has her own belly doing flips. 

   “You look good enough to taste….Can I?”

   Peggy's body reacts before she can even give a proper response and Nat watches in amusement as the brunette's legs automatically part to give her more room. Still, she waits for a verbal response

   “Yes…”

   Without wasting any more time Natasha drops to her knees in front of her girlfriend, and places her hands against Peggys thighs. She trails them over the muscles before moving them around to the Super soldier's firm ass, and gently squeezes as she brings her mouth to Peggys awaiting pussy.

   “Oh hell…” she breathes out as Nats tongue swipes through her folds

   Nat hums in response, sending vibrations through the other woman that have her clenching around her girlfriends tongue as she slips inside. Natashas nose bumps against her clit and she swears that if she wasn’t a super soldier, she'd be in need of some serious support to stay standing due to how good she's currently feeling. She's lost in that feeling of bliss for a few moments, until she gets a rather unexpected idea. Though she supposes it's rather time for her to be the cheeky one. 

   She reaches over to the counter where she had left her phone before the shower and grabs it. Now admittedly, she still doesn’t know how to use it very well, but she knows how to work the camera. And right now, that's all she's after. She opens the app and points it at the large mirror in front of her, moving around to find the perfect angle. 

   She knows that through all of this, Natashas eyes haven’t missed any of her movements. No matter the circumstances she never does. So before she takes the picture she looks down to confirm it's okay. The sight of the redhead with blown pupils and arousal dripping down her chin has a moan escaping Peggy instead of the question, but thankfully Nat knows what she intended

   “You can take one” she assures, her voice a bit raspier than usual either from lust or how long she's gone without using it while focused on pleasing Peggy, “Just make sure it gets sent to me when I’m done with you”

   Peggy nods and quickly snaps the pic before setting her phone back down on the counter, and Natasha eagerly reattaches her lips to her girlfriends clit. Without thinking Peggy buries her hand in Nats hair and pulls her face impossibly closer to her core

   “Oh god! Natasha!” she moans, cumming into her girlfriends mouth,and Natasha takes great pleasure in the fact that she was able to get her girlfriends strong legs to tremble

   She stays on her knees, gently bringing Peggy through her orgasm and cleaning up the mess she made until Peggy's grip loosens in her hair. She pulls away and sucks in a breath she hadn’t even realized she needed while her girlfriend looks down at her with a smile

   “Come here, love” she says, reaching to help pull the Russian to her feet

   Once standing Natasha finds herself being trapped between the countertop and her girlfriend as Peggy captures her lips in a searing kiss. Her lips part to allow the taller women tongue to enter and she fully relaxed as Peggys arms wrap around her waist

   After a few minutes of making out the older woman pulls away with an affection filled smile, “I suppose I should send you that picture, before I forget”

   “Oh, I wouldn’t let you forget about it” Nat says with a smile, but still lets her girlfriend go to retrieve her phone

   As usual Peggy fumbles to get the picture sent off but once it goes through she seems satisfied. Nat picks up her own phone to look at the picture and is also satisfied, for all of five seconds. Because that's when she notices her girlfriends blunder

   “Lyubov'(love).....you sent it to the chat with Y/n”

   Her eyes widen as panic and anxiety build inside her as she thinks about their teammate, friend and longtime crush seeing that picture, “Damn”

   In your room you hear your phone ding and decide that you've worked on paperwork enough today anyway. So you get up from your desk and plop down on your bed to grab your phone. You're quite happy to see that the notification is from the group chat with your best friends, who also happen to be a couple and a couple that you're madly in love with at that.

   When you open the message you're greeted with a picture of a slightly foggy mirror that has the reflection of a fully naked Peggy staring back at you, and though you know you should, you can’t tear your eyes away. Your eyes continue to travel further down and that's when you notice a head of red hair that obviously belongs to Natasha as her bare back faces the mirror. You swallow hard and take a deep breath to settle your nerves and to figure out just what the hell is going on, but before you can get your bearings another text from Peggy comes through

   I am so incredibly sorry, still figuring out this blasted phone

   I would like to say that it's not a problem, but truly I don’t think I’ll be able to forget what I’ve seen….and I'm not quite sure i even want to

   Natasha rereads your message three times to make sure she's reading it correctly as Peggy somehow gets out a reply, You don’t have to forget. 

In fact detka(baby), you can even see more.

[jobean12-blog]

Promise Me

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 1,080

Summary: Joel is not happy when he finds out you left to go search for something and didn't tell him...

Author's Note: Just a little angry (but soft always) Joel because he's overly protective and needs you to be ok. Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: some angsty bits here and there but only bc Joel is protective and you're his, softness, spicyness and some fluff

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

Joel shoots to his feet with a string of grumbled expletives, intending to go out and start his second search of the day when he hears the sound of soft footfalls on the stairs.

His heart starts to beat wildly as he waits to see who’s at the door. It opens to reveal you, looking as beautiful as ever, and with that his anger reaches its boiling point.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Your entire body startles with a strangled scream and you drop something to the floor. You back up against the wall and search for some light, finally noticing him seconds later.

“Oh my god Joel! Are you crazy?”

Some of his anger deflates at your panicked tone, but not all.

“I’m not the crazy one! Crazy would be leaving for half the damn day and not tellin’ me where you’re off to!”

With a scoff you reach down to pick up what fell from your hands. “I didn’t know I had to report all my comings and goings to you!”

His chest heaves with his labored breathing and he steps closer.

“You still didn’t answer my question,” he warns.

You stay silent as you stuff the contents of your hand into your jacket pocket, trying to skirt past him and into the small space you call home.

He’s had enough, stopping your progress with a firm hand on your waist.

He spins you around until you’re caged against the counter, his arms resting on either side of you, and leans in close.

“Where. The. Hell. Have. You. Been? I’m not goin’ to ask again darlin’.”

You get right in his face.

“I went looking for something ok! And I found it. And I’m fine.”

His eyes sweep over you, assessing you so closely you feel stripped bare.

He doesn’t move away but heaves a yielding sigh of your name.

Your expression softens with a frown and when his head drops toward his chest you tentatively reach for his jaw, pressing your fingers to the patchy scruff to lift his eyes to yours again.

“Joel?”

“I...,” he starts quietly. “I thought somethin’ happened to you!,” he says, much louder now.

His agonized eyes meet yours and after a moment’s hesitation, he speaks again.

“Believe it or not, I care about you. More than you know. The last few hours have been pure hell, darlin.’ You think it’s funny to scare the shit out of me?”

“No,” you answer quietly. “I don’t think it’s funny and I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Then why were you gone all day angel?” he demands.

“Well…I,” you begin hesitantly, then blow out a breath. “I wanted to find some crayons! I found a coloring book the other day but I have no crayons! It took longer than I expected. I thought I would be back before you even missed me.”

When he just stares at you blankly you continue talking, your voice barely above a whisper when you ask, “do you want to color with me?”

He remains quiet and you add, “I’m sorry.”

He nods and slides his hand into your pocket, carefully pulling out the worn box of crayons.

“All that for some crayons?” he muses softly.

“I love to color,” you say with a small shrug. “Don’t be mad.”

Resolute in his anger he doesn’t reply but keeps you caged in, his eyes dropping to your lips.

With tentative movements you brush the fallen hair from his forehead and trace the line of his jaw before pressing a kiss just under his ear.

“I promise I won’t do it again.”

Another kiss, this time lingering on his neck.

He can feel his defenses slipping and against his better judgement he leans into your touch, the feel of you threatening to completely topple his anger.

Your hands start to trail down his chest toward his stomach but he grasps them, dragging you into his embrace.

“Say it again,” he growls. “Promise me you’ll never leave me like that. Never again.”

“I promise Joel.”

He brings your hand to his mouth, kissing the inside of your wrist then letting the other hand slide down your back, satisfied when your breath hitches in your throat.

“Good,” he murmurs, pressing you against his body, lining you up with every inch of him.

A roll of his hips lets you feel his need and your eyes close, parting on a moan.

“Are you still mad?” you ask. “We could color? It might help you relax.”

His head dips slowly, his warm breath fanning your lips before he closes the distance and cuts off your surprised gasp with his mouth. He grabs the back of your neck and commands the kiss, only deepening it when you bite his bottom lip.

His possessive growl is followed by a question spoken directly against your parted, swollen lips.

“Do you see what you do to me?”

His breath shudders in and out, sounding loud in the quietness surrounding you. He works open the button of your jeans, then slips his big hand down the inside of your panties.

“Next time you need somethin’ you come to me,” he says. “I’ll give you everything you need.”

Your head rolls back and your eyelashes flutter against your cheek, your breathy affirmation driving his fingers right where you want them.

He leans down and brushes his lips to the shell of your ear.

“I protect what’s mine.”

The next morning, by the soft glow of the rising sun, you sit on the makeshift bed, your back to Joel’s chest and your knees pulled up with the coloring book resting on them.

“I forgot how small these things are.”

You study his hand. Long, thick fingers dwarfing the green crayon held between them.

“Nah. Your hands are just really big,” you purr. “And I lo…”

“Yeah, yeah. I know angel. You love ‘em.”

“I love, love, love them!” you exclaim, feeling his light chuckle.

You snuggle closer to his warmth and rest your head back along his chest.

“You have to stay inside the lines,” you playfully chide.

“Well, it’s not that easy from this position!” he shoots back.

“I can move over here…”

He tightens his grip, not allowing you to move an inch out of his arms.

“Don’t. I need to keep you close.”

“Forever?” you ask with a giggle.

He gently grasps your chin and tilts your head back to meet his eyes, his expression fierce.

“Forever angel.”

@hiddles-rose @lizette50 @kmc1989 @lorilane33 @blackwidownat2814 @littleseasiren

[strayrockette]

My Sunshine Girl: The Celebration

Next Chapter

Note: I’m finally giving in and writing this Benny fic my brain won’t stop rehashing. Enjoy 😊

Super Note: Listen, guys, gals, peeps...I really really really tried to keep this short but it ended up a lot longer than I intended. I even split it into two separate parts and it's STILL SOOO LONG IM SORRY! Also please excuse incorrect grammar. I tried to edit as much as I could but I'm sure I still missed something. My Masterlist

Summary: The birthday girl doesn’t want the night to end and a handsome stranger gives her an invitation.

Inspired by: (Today I Met) The Boy I’m Gonna Marry by Darlene Love, He’s Mine by the Platters, and @storiesfromafan.

---

Harold’s Diner was one of many to be open late at night. Where the others were dim and had few occupants, Harold’s Diner was packed with more than usual.

Half were regulars all grouped together on the far left. They held familiarity as they conversed and joked around. Laughter and chatter were loud and hard to escape in the mom-and-pop diner.

You fluttered from table to table, smiling wide, excitement and happiness oozing from your body. It had been a pleasant surprise to walk into your uncle's diner and find a couple of friends and family waiting for you.

Your best friend Nat had organized a small get-together for your birthday. Your Uncle Harold had allowed her to use his diner for the event, "it'll be good for business and it'll make her happy" He had shrugged his shoulders as if saying yes was the only answer. With his answer, Nat had taken it upon herself to decorate the diner in anticipation of the night.

While the diner was technically open to other customers, you didn't mind one bit. The small community you lived in was tight-knit and most customers were from nearby. Few and far between were out-of-towners who were just making a pitstop. But that didn't disturb you one bit.

Customers came and went as the night went on. Many wished you a happy birthday as you and your friends idled joyfully in the corner of the diner. You beamed with each happy birthday.

By the time your friends were ready to leave and retire for the night you pouted, the night was only beginning and you were too excited to see what the cool air and starry sky had to offer.

You’d tried to convince Nat to stay out later but her boyfriend wouldn’t budge. She grasped your shoulders softly, “We can hang out some other time hun, Mikey doesn’t like it when I stay out late”

You’d rolled your eyes and mumbled a passive goodnight. Waving her off with a small and placid smile. Uncle Harold had practically shooed you out of the diner so he could clean in peace. He’d ushered out a goodnight and a see you at home, before closing the diner doors to prevent another customer from coming in.

All too suddenly you were left alone staring up at the sky and wondering exactly what you would do next. Your feet ached in the black wedges Nat had bought you. And you really wished you could sit down somewhere.

You walked along the sidewalk, taking in the dimly lit path, you wondered if you should have taken Nat's offer to drop you off at home. But you didn't like Mikey, so you politely declined.

You continued to wander, your feet aching as you tried to think of where else you could go. Who else could you visit before retiring to your cold empty bed. Lost in thought you barely noticed soft hands moving to grasp your wrists “Y/N?”

You blinked, your eyes focusing on the person in front of you. Short hair and wide eyes, “Kathy?”

A smile broke out, “Oh my gosh! How are you?”

Kathy’s brown eyes twinkled, “Been better. Since when were you back?”

“About a month ago” you responded happily. “I didn’t think I’d run into you”

She fixed her purse over her shoulder, “Talk about perfect timing. Do you remember Alice? Well, she asked me to come to spot her at this bar, but I don’t want to go in alone.”

Her question was unsaid but you were too excited to keep the night going to even think about saying no. You hooked an arm around hers and practically dragged her into the bar. You weren’t prepared for what kind of club you were walking into. But if you learned anything from living in New York City for the last 4 years, it was always best to walk as if you belonged and barrel through bodies who got in your way.

You did just that, Kathy squeezing herself closer to you, your skirt rode up with each stride, the lime green plaid skirt catching more than a few eyes. But you were always prepared for a night of fun, dolling yourself up in the cutest skirts or dresses.

Your legs were covered in nude stockings a pair of dark shorts over ‘em, like hell I’d make it easier for scummy eyes and hands to slip into my “honey pot” the thought almost made you sneer outwardly but you attempted to keep the joyful smile on your face.

You pushed through, shouldering men bigger than you, slapping hands that tried to grab your waist and smiling sweetly when they insisted, “Not for you sweetheart”

Your confidence and boldness had men parting a path for you as you tugged Kathy behind you. Your eyes searching for a familiar blonde, green eyed girl you used to tease for the gap in her teeth.

Alice’s head popped up over the crowd, her hands waving enthusiastically in the air as she caught sight of your dark brown hair and smiling face, “Y/N??OH MY GOD YOU’RE BACK”

She screeched over the loud music and voices, completely comfortable in the bar filled with greasy old and young men alike.

You rushed through the last stretch of the crowd, breaking through to rush around her table, gathering Alice into a hug you giggled and swayed together, “I missed you, you chatterbox”

You teased her as you pulled away. Your eyes roamed her face. “Well, someone’s changed”

Her green eyes looked you over a smirk on her lips, “I could say the same for you, little miss, barreling through those men like you own the place,” she leaned forward whispering in your ear, “Good job”

You laughed, patting her shoulder you pulled a seat out and sat down. Kathy was already seated, her fingers digging into the purse she clutched to her chest. Pulling money from the bottom of her purse she slid it over to Alice, “Here take it”

Alice grinned, “Awe, thanks hun, you’re the best”

Kathy looked around her gaze warily taking in the rowdy men, their greasy appearance, and tattooed bodies, “Uh huh, I gotta go”

Alice frowned, “Awe come on, you just got here and Y/N here, the fun’s just got started”

Kathy shook her head, her discomfort growing, “No way, we can get together another day”

She stressed over the word day. You bumped her shoulder, “Oh come on Pumpkin, I could use a dance with you”

She turned her head to you, her discomfort and excitement warring with each other, “No can do sweets, I hate it here”

Alice snorted, “You hate anywhere that isn’t your home, anyways” She motions to the other end of the table, “over here is cockroach”

You followed, Alice’s gesture, noticing his rough appearance-much like many of the men here, but his eyes were gentle and warm, he’s a harmless bug you thought.

You gave him a nod of acknowledgment and a hello around the same time Kathy paused her jittery movements to say “What?”

She gave him a confused and disbelieving look. He nodded, seemingly used to the confused and odd looks, “They call me cockroach,“ he repeated.

Kathy scoffed her eyes once again looking around cautiously, “And why they call you a stupid name like that?” She asked.

You leaned forward, your elbows resting on the table, “Is it cuz cockroaches are indestructible?”

You were curious about his name and what meaning it had to him. Based on the group of men he hung with you assumed there would be plenty of weird names to learn. He grinned at you, “cuz I like to eat bugs, you know, like a gag but also cuz I just like to eat em”

You laughed amused by his statement. Kathy looked disgusted and she voiced as much, “That’s disgusting. Look, I gotta go, you comin’ with me?”

She turned to you at the end of her sentence. Her eyes pleading with you to leave the bar with her. You pouted, “Sorry, pumpkin, I think I’m gonna stick around a lil longer”

Alice sighed, “Ay, they’re not that bad,” she reached across the table, patted Kathy's hand, and smiled reassuringly, “Just sit here for a bit, okay?”

Kathy huffed as Alice slipped from her seat to go to the bar, her eyes glancing around nervously. You leaned in, whispering in her ear, “It’s best to pretend you belong than to act like you don’t, pumpkin.”

She turned once more her jitteriness increasing the longer she stayed, “And why in the hell would I do that?”

You sighed and shook your head, “to lessen the stares you’re gettin, duh”

She rolled her eyes, “they’d stare no matter what.” She concluded irately.

Alice slips back into her seat, handing you and Kathy a pop to drink.

Before you could respond to reassure Kathy, two men walked up to your table, one is shorter than the other, neither are bad looking but the grease on their skin and the scent of cigarette smoke hanging around them makes them undesirable to most women. At least, the women living the prim and proper lifestyle.

Kathy avoids making eye contact but you do it freely, unbothered and curious at what they’ve got to say.

The shorter one of the two leans forward his dark eyes roaming from Kathy to you, “Hey there.” His voice is raspy and not too deep nor high. It’s rather pleasant, you think passively. “Either of you wanna come live with me?”

It’s almost a tease and a genuine question, the other jumps in eagerly, he’s tall and bare-chested, and he’s wearing a jean vest that all the men in this bar are wearing, “What about me? Wanna go out with me” his eyes look to you, they’re a soft brown and you can tell he’s a sweetheart deep down. But with all the men gathered at this bar, kindness, and sweetness are buried beneath their manly-esque appearance.

Kathy utters, “No, thank you” with a shake of her head and her eyes downcast. But you stare up at them and simply say, “No”

You’re leaning back in your chair, hands calmly placed over your thigh, your legs crossed. You have no worries or cares and you’re not at all intimidated by these men. Kathy goes on to make excuses for why she said no. She looks around the table “Oh, I have a date”

The tall one hums, “A date huh?” He nods his head at you, “What about you?”

You tease them, "If I did have a date, it isn't either of you."

The tall one laughs hollering over his shoulder, "We've got a sassy one over here."

The short on places a hand on his heart, "I'm hurt sunshine"

You laugh enjoying the light banter and tease.

Kathy nudges you, her eyes wide and warning. You stick your tongue out a silent message for her to loosen up.

She pinches your side and then says unconvincingly, “Well, I’ve got a date. 12 o’clock," She nods to herself, " I-I have to get home. She's coming with me.”

Kathy insists on whisking you away from here, she's seen the looks these men give you and bless your heart. Kathy isn't sure if you're unaware or unbothered, she refuses to leave you behind. You were the one good girlfriend she had ever had, even if you had disappeared for 4 years.

The shorter one lifts his cigarette to his mouth and inhales, “You hear that cockroach”

He points his cigarette in Kathy’s direction, “Cinderella’s got a date" He points to you, "And Sunshine waitin' for her man”

Kathy sinks into her seat and you wonder if she would bolt for the door. But with the two men blocking their path, she remains rooted in her seat.

The tall one echos, “Yeah, Cinderelli’s got a date, and Sunshine’s waitin' for her man to find her”

Cockroach chuckles and shakes his head. The two men slip away from the table, the shorter one going on to say, “Cinderella’s gonna turn into a pumpkin or somethin’”

Another man hollers, "Wonder who the lucky man is, Sunshine"

You giggle to yourself, the men reminded you of another group you'd known in New York. It wasn't too bad once you found your bearings amongst them.

You glanced at Kathy, seeing her eying someone with suspicious eyes.

You followed her gaze, seeing an older man calmly sitting with his back to the wall and his legs propped up on a chair. He was eyeing you gals with soft eyes, he gave you two a nod as another man leaned down to whisper in his ear.

Your eyes lingered for a few moments trying to grasp what exactly was being said, with no luck you looked over to the group of men, two of them being the ones who had attempted to pick you and Kathy up, stood near the Jukebox. They lazed around, heads bent speaking to each other, one of them glanced up to look over at the table you sat in.

Kathy shook her head, her voice wavering, “Look at them whisperin and plannin’ somethin, oh I gotta go”

Kathy had reached for your hand, already pulling you up from the seat. Your feet nearly stumbling as you righted yourself to walk behind her. You tugged lightly, turning her around, “If you’re gonna drag me around like ole times, Pumpkin, give me a sec to get my bearings.”

She sighed and nodded. Her right hand clutching her purse tighter as she stood and waited.

You fixed your skirt and bent down to grab your purse that hung loosely over your chair, swinging it over your shoulder, you stood and got ready to leave.

You gave the bar one last sweep with your eyes, stopping when you saw him. Blonde windswept hair and baby blue eyes. Toned arms littered with tattoos, and grease sticking to his skin, you assumed it was motor oil and some other form of grease from tinkering away at bikes.

Your head tilted and a growing feeling of intrigue and curiosity overwhelmed you. Forgetting about Kathy, you plopped onto the chair and clumsily tapped Alice’s arm to get her attention. Your bag knocked against the table nearly falling off your shoulder and hitting the ground but you tucked it on your lap and leaned closer to Alice, “Hey Alice, who is that looker over by the pool table”

Alice looked to where your eyes hovered, catching on to whom you were asking about, “No, girl just no”

You turned, giving her a frown, “What?”

“Thats Benny, you don’t want to go there” She insisted.

Kathy slid into the seat next to you, her shoulder brushing yours, “Don’t tell me you’re eyeing one of these greasy fuckers”

You jabbed her with your elbow, “Be nice,”

Passing her a pleading look. Kathy sighed and leaned onto the table, her escape plan on hold.

You pleaded with Alice to tell you more, “Come on, spill! You never hold back, what’s the deal?”

Alice gave you an unimpressed look and shook her head.

"Just fill my curiosity meter, sweets," You shook her arm as if it would help make her spill.

Alice snorted, “You’re never just curious, Sunny”

Kathy hummed, “Agreed. You rarely give anyone the time of day, why are you askin' about this one”

That's a story that would be too long to spill, you sigh, "I'll tell yah later"

“Look, no one wants to date Benny, he’s trouble. Every time he gets on his bike he gets into an accident” she looked around conspiratorially, “and he’s got a temper on him, he won’t hurt no lady but put a man in front of him and he’ll swing any which way he pleases”

She tried to stress his flaws but you couldn’t quite let go of the curiosity in you. You didn’t have his name before, you’d wondered where he slipped off to after your uncle's diner. He’d shown up out of the blue in the early afternoon. His hair freshly ruffled from the wind, a cigarette hanging from his lips, his long fingers fixing his jacket, and his long jean-clad legs striving through the diner doors with grace and confidence. For a rebel against society's norms, he was handsome. Too handsome. You couldn’t believe he didn’t have a line of girls wanting to get with him.

But then again, most of them probably steered clear to avoid angering their families. Lucky for you, you had no such concerns.

You remembered how your uncle was about to throw him out of your diner, refusing to serve “vandal scum” in his family friendly diner. But you had swooped in, bouncing over before any hands could fly and faces bruised. You’d smiled blithely, gently reminding your uncle it was your birthday and you had no need or want for a fight to break out and break the mood that had settled into the diner’s atmosphere.

People were coming in and out, most were family and friends visiting to say hi and spend time with you for your birthday. Some were customers but even they stopped for a few to talk to you. Reminiscing over younger you who had greeted each of them one time or another at the diner.

You’d turned to the handsome stranger, your hair swirling around you in waves, a playful finger wagging in his direction, “This is a family friendly diner, handsome, I’m afraid you can’t smoke in here”

You had expected him to argue but he merely put out his cigarette, handing it to your outstretched palm. You discarded it in the trash behind the hostess stand and grabbed a menu for him. You glanced to your uncle and then to the stranger, “You can eat here as long as you behave. and you will, right?” You asked sweetly.

The handsome stranger merely nodded, giving you a half smile. His blue eyes staring intently into your own dark brown that glittered with a hint of gold and red in the setting sun that glowed through the windows.

You had waved your hands in the air, “See didi, there’s no trouble here. Just a handsome man wanting to eat your delicious food”

You had defused the situation so quickly it nearly gave everyone a whiplash but that was something everyone had missed. Your ability to lighten an atmosphere.

After getting the stranger seated you went back to your previous activities nearly forgetting the blue eyes that lingered on you throughout his stay.

You had almost forgotten, until now.

Alice shook her head, grasping your hand, “Don’t say I didn’t warn yah”

She glanced at Kathy, “If you wanna leave that bad, let’s get you to a phone to call for a ride mkay”

Kathy sighed in relief, “thank you, you’re the best”

They left you to your thoughts. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking over what Alice said and remembering the brief meeting from earlier in the day. You contemplated going up to him, just to ask if had enjoyed the food. He had wiped his plate clean so you know he did. But perhaps you could also ask him why your uncle couldn’t stand the sight of him. Maybe that’s too personal you thought idly.

You would have sunk deeper and deeper into your thoughts if it weren’t for a figure slipping into a chair next to you. His arms hugging the back of the chair, his body leaning over to stare at you.

You almost choked on air realizing who was seated next to you. His eyes peered into yours, soft and gentle. His beard was a golden blonde like his hair, it framed his face nicely, his cheekbones and jaw were sculpted to perfection and you wondered if you ever laid eyes on someone who was casually perfect. “Hey”

Your eyes traced his face, “Hello handsome, I didn't think I'd see yah again"

He nodded giving you a half smile, so similar to the one you had received when you had helped him get a table at your uncles diner, “I’m Benny”

You noticed his voice was a deep honeyed rasp. Somehow smooth and bumpy. You wanted to listen to him talk all night, but based on your previous and current encounters; you didn’t think he’d do much talking.

You tilted your head to the side humming in reply, “I’m Y/N”

Silence fell, a bubbly giddy feeling in your chest almost had you giggling nervously. You’d never had a man stare at you so intensely without a crude or rude comment hanging from their lips. But Benny simply watched. His eyes trailing over your face, mapping out the curve of your nose and lips, the laugh lines in your face, the dimples resting at the top of your cheeks and the way your honey brown eyes watched him in return.

He wanted to reach out to touch your cheek wondering if they felt as warm as the redness in them implied.

You swallowed the giggle by biting your bottom lip, you seemed to be doing that a lot tonight. You hoped you wouldn’t bruise it with how much you had repeated this action. “You gonna stare at me all night, Benny”

You whispered his name and it felt scandalous. As if it was the most intimate pet name you had ever come up with prior to knowing his true name.

He smiled, rubbing a hand over his chin then through his hair, he adjusted his position, “Yeah, I guess”

He made no other comment. Not once bothering to fill the growing silence between you. Perhaps there wasn’t much to be said because his eyes said it all. He was interested, you gathered.

His eyes inviting, patiently waiting on you to confirm…something. You weren’t sure.

And as much as you wanted to do or say anything you simply went with, “I-Uh-I’m with my girls”

You stuttered, what a terrible flirt. You wanted to slam your head into the table, to sink into the floor and disappear. That wasn’t what you wanted to say but it was the only thing you could think of.

“Oh” he looked down at his arms then slowly looked back up to you, “okay”

His eyes were softer and a little sad. More silence. Your heart was beating so fast with adrenaline. You swore you would never forgive yourself for being an idiot. You hoped he would say something, ask you anything. Maybe give you something other than his contemplative silence. But no, he only lifted his hands up, “You’re with your girls”

He had shrugged as he said it, gracefully getting up to leave you alone. You could feel his eyes leaving you and he left you to a different kind of silence. You couldn’t believe how idiotic you had been. As if the invitation wasn’t clear enough you had shut him down. Leave it to you to blow off the only man who had ever made you feel anything other than disgust under their gaze.

Kathy slid into the chair to your right, her mouth parting ready to ask you if you would be leaving with her, but another figure slipped into a seat at the other side of the table.

You recognized him from earlier, the man who watched you and Kathy from his corner of the bar. He gave you girls a quirk of his lip and a nod, “What are your names, girls”

Kathy leaned back and sighed, “What is this? A rotary buffet?”

You could tell she was getting tired of all the men who were coming up to you gals. “I’m Kathy, this is Y/N”

The man nodded once more, “I’m uh Johnny, I’m the president of this club.”

You hummed, “Nice to meet yah”

Kathy rolled her eyes but gave him a nod of acknowledgement. He continued to speak, “Just want the two of yous to know that..you don’t have to worry”

Your brow raised surprised by his statement but knowing where he was going.

“Worry about what?” Kathy questioned with rising suspicion.

Johnny shook his head, “Nothin, that’s all. The guys just wanna have some fun…”

He nodded his eyes trailing to the group of men by the Jukebox, “I won’t let nothin happen to yah”

His grey eyes scanned the two of you.

Kathy quirked a challenging eye brow, “Oh yeah? And what’s gonna happen to us?”

You placed a hand on her arm, trying to calm her growing agitation, “Nothin” Johnny responded.

This didn’t appease Kathy at all, she rolled her eyes and sarcastically laughed, “haha, thanks for that, we gots to go now. Nice to meet yah. Adios. Bye”

You gripped your bag over your shoulder allowing her to drag you out of the bar. When you noticed the men leering and getting closer to her, you tugged her back and took the lead, shoving them aside with strength that once again surprised them. You got out relatively untouched. But you knew that there would be some grease stains on your skirt and stockings. Kathy didn’t seem too happy about the prints on her ass though.

You would have laughed if it weren’t for the enraged look on her face. “What animals”

She hissed. Trying to swipe away the grease but the damage was done.

“Alright, sunny, I called a cab and it should be here any minute. You gonna hop in?”

You sighed and hummed, after blowing off the Benny guy you wanted nothin but to go home and wallow in your failure.

Her lips smirked, “Gonna wallow in self pity for rejectin’ that biker guy?”

Her comment released a wave of groans from your lips, “My gosh Kathy! I blew it!”

You hooked your right arm though her left and followed her across the street, “I was THIS close” you lifted your thumb and pointer finger and squeezed them together, “to maybe going on a date or somethin’”

She laughed, “Oh honey, you’ve never even bothered to flirt nor talk to a man that wasn’t family or close friends. Of course you’d blow it”

Her tease left you pouting, throwing your head back you groaned and stomped your feet playfully, “If I had a second chance I think I could get it right”

Your eyes traced the Big Dipper, wishing for another chance. But for what? You didn’t even think you had it in you. Sure you could be confident and happy. Bulldozing your way through life. Making others smile and laugh. Getting others to feel comfortable and welcoming.

But flirting? Dating? Talking to an insanely handsome man?

An impossible task you really wanted to try.

A few minutes went by before Kathy started to nudge your side. You turned your head to stare at her, one brow raised in question. Her eyes flitted across the street and you followed.

He was walking across the street, cigarette on his lips and a lighter hovering in front of him as he lit it. His hand shoved the lighter back into his pocket and he nonchalantly walked up to his sleek black bike. Swinging his long legs over the bike, he jumped to start it, his bike roaring to life.

He sat down, fixed his jacket, and gave you a look over his shoulder. His eyes were obscured by shadows but with the slight incline of his head, you figured he was silently telling you to get on.

Kathy pushed you towards him, your feet stumbling over the pavement. You righted yourself and shot her a glare. She wiggled her fingers at you, shooing you in response.

You slowly took a step forward. Then two. Then three. And before you could turn around and run away you were standing next to him.

He plucked his cigarette from his lips and gave you a look. His eyes scanned you from head to toe. Amused to see you standing near him. Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your skirt.

You were just about to ask him if you could get on. But rowdy men spilled out of the bar. Hooting loudly at seeing you next to Benny. Urging you to get on. Some commenting about your pretty skirt riding up your thigh. And some praising Benny for reining you in.

“Get on girl, it’s gonna be a fun ride” one of them laughed out.

Benny gave no indication he was listening to them. And he gave no indication of what he wanted you to do. You suppose he had already given you a hint earlier. You sighed and got on.

Once seated you tried to tug your skirt down the best you could. Silently thankful that you had prepared for the worst-case scenario. Your black shorts peeked from beneath your skirt. Your thighs resting comfortably over the bike.

More of the men hollered, “We’ve got a smart one”

“Ay suppose only Benny can take a peek underneath her skirt”

You blushed at the comment. You would like to deny it but saying anything would only fuel their provocative statements.

You turned to take a quick peek at Kathy, finding her getting on one of the men’s bikes. Having been herded by the others to take a ride. She had obviously given in to get them to leave her alone. She shot you a look. Her eyes flickered between you and Benny. She gave you a wry smile. She was excited for you. But not that pleased with her own situation. However, she’d pull through if you were experiencing it with her.

Your hands were loosely gripping onto Benny’s side, unsure of where to place them.

One of Benny’s hands reached around, grabbing yours to tightly wrap it around his midsection. You laced your fingers together and held on tightly. Trying to ignore the way your body pressed into his.

Someone shouted for him to take off and let him know that they would meet up with him on the expressway. With a jolt of the bike, you lurched forward. Your thighs squeezing Benny's legs and your grip getting tighter.

After that, you were a goner. The night sped past you in a blaze of light. The stars glittering and the town lights fading into the darkness. The wind swept your hair, tossing your neatly primed waves into a knotted mess.

You squealed, pressing your face into his back. Your eyes followed the passing scenery falling in love with the speed and the freedom that swelled up inside you.

You felt him chuckle at your reaction, you tore your gaze away and leaned at an angle to see the side of his face, you could tell he was smiling.

You were in trouble. All the warnings Alice had given you had been discarded. Your heart was a fool and your mind had been made. And you wondered where exactly this night would lead.

A/N: If you made it this far down, I applaud you 👏part 2 is already written and is currently being edited. If you want quick updates, comment for a tag! Thank you so much for sticking around to read this long fic!

[navybrat817]

Where We Left Off

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You're in love with your best friend who is determined to make the most of your vacation together. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Light angst, friends reconnecting, unrequited feelings (or so you think), slight feels (it's me), future fun, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) A/N: New AU called Reconnect because why not? Meet Dreamboat and Butterfly. For @the-slumberparty 's June's Monthly Challenge : Bikini and Beach, and Smut Hub Summer Camp Bingo @sagechanoafterdark: Choose Your Vibes: Summer. Thank you @flordeamatista for the inspiration and pre-reading! ❤️ Any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was a couple of summers ago when you realized you were in love with Bucky Barnes. When you looked back on your friendship, you wondered how it took you so long to realize it. Like how his smile made your heart race whenever he looked your way. Or how you found a solid ground and safe space together, each of you able to confide in the other.

He made you feel safe.

"You're my best friend."

Nothing more.

You stared out the living room window with a sigh, the beach house blanketed by the heavy sound of rain. While it had been bright and sunny just minutes ago, the sky was now dark and misty. You shivered as you wrapped your towel tighter around your wet body, enchanted by the summer storm instead of going to your room to change. It figured you'd buy a new swimsuit for the trip and only get to wear it outside for a minute.

"So much for lounging on the beach."

You smiled softly as you glanced at Bucky beside you, who ran a hand through his long, soaked hair. He hadn't bothered to keep his towel after the two of you rushed back inside, clad in just his blue trunks that matched the shade of his eyes. You scolded yourself for letting your gaze roam along his sun kissed, muscular body.

You didn't have the right to look at him that way.

"Yeah. So much for that," you said, the towel doing little to keep you warm as the air conditioner kicked on. "Maybe our punishment for getting started without everyone?"

Steve, another one of Bucky's best friends, put together a weeklong trip for the gang. So far, you and Bucky were the only two at the beach house. Everyone else wasn't going to be there until the evening. That was why you went for an immediate swim once you picked your room. The storm would likely put the group behind even more and now you were stuck inside with Bucky.

Why had you agreed to show up early?

Why did you have to be alone with him?

Why do I have to love him?

"Maybe," he said with a stretch, drawing attention to his wide chest. "Since it doesn't look like it's slowing down at all, why don't we cuddle on the couch? Catch up a bit?"

"Cuddle?" you scoffed, the sound more bitter than you intended as you turned to face him. "Why would we do that?"

A flicker of hurt passed over his eyes before he blinked it away. "Well, for one, you're cold. I can practically hear your teeth chattering," he replied. He wasn't a fan of being cold either, but he always ran warm. "And two, cuddling never bothered you before."

Your stomach flip-flopped. Bucky was right. He was the only male friend you ever snuggled with. Whenever you had a bad day, he didn't hesitate to throw a heavy arm around you and pull you against his chest. On good days, he found an excuse to keep you plastered by his side. He used to do it so often that most people assumed you were dating.

Wishful thinking.

"I'm sorry," you said, giving him the nicest smile you could manage even though it hurt to do so. "Been awhile since it was just the two of us and even longer than that since we cuddled."

The day it clicked that you saw Bucky as more than a friend was the day he introduced you to Dolores. Everyone called her Dot. The beautiful redhead looked good on his arm and you wondered why it wasn't you in her place. But you put on a brave face and smiled, even as your heart shattered. Because Bucky's happiness meant more than your feelings.

It didn't stop you from crying alone in the darkness where no one else could see.

"That's my fault," he whispered, sliding his fingers into his hair again and tugging harshly on the strands. You noticed he did that when he was upset. "And I'm sorry."

"Friendship goes both ways," you pointed out.

"You never faded out of my life when you dated anyone."

They weren't you, Bucky.

"I guess she was different," you smiled sadly.

The two of you still hung out and messaged each other while he dated Dot, but it was always as a group and the daily messages dwindled to chats here and there. You had the feeling that Dot didn't like you very much. In a way, you didn't fault her for that. Maybe she saw through you and knew you wanted Bucky.

Yet he was the one who broke up with her.

"You're allowed to be mad at me," he said as he took your hand and crossed the room to the couch. "I'd be mad at me."

"Right now, I'm just cold," you said, not wanting to dwell on the past. What good would it do?

He nodded slowly, almost like he was disappointed in your response. "Okay."

You shrieked when he pulled the towel away. It wasn't like he hadn't seen you minutes before in your bikini and you swore his gaze lingered on you long enough to consider it staring, but what was he doing? "What the hell?" you asked, but made no move to cover yourself.

Maybe I want him to see that I'm desirable.

Bucky let out a breath as he looked at you, your shivering having nothing to do with the cold. "You said you were cold, so let me warm you up," he urged, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch before he took a seat. "Please?"

Silence fell over you as you sat down beside him. He wasted no time putting the blanket over you and wrapping his arms around your shaking frame. You breathed in his familiar scent and found yourself fighting off tears, a bittersweet swirl of longing and comfort settling in your chest.

Because he embraced you as if you meant something to him.

"I missed you," he whispered, running a hand along your back.

Your heart clenched, focusing on the rain falling outside in a melancholy rhythm. "I missed you, too."

"But we have each other again."

"I wish that were true," you whispered.

Why did I say that?

His hand stilled, but you were too afraid to look at him. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Panic bubbled in your chest. You couldn't just blurt out your feelings like this. "I just mean you went from a constant to a fleeting moment in my life," you said, which was the truth. "I don't want things to fizzle after we leave."

Bucky used to be the brightest star in your sky. Then he became the shooting star you missed making a wish upon. But you would forever watch the sky if only to get a glimpse of his bright light.

"I'll make it up to you. I have this whole week to start," he promised, rubbing his chin along the top of your head. "I don't care what Steve has planned. I'm all yours."

You squeezed your eyes shut because you knew you'd cry if you didn't. He wasn't yours. Not really.

"I'm yours, too, Bucky."

I always will be.

Surely Bucky will sweep us off our feet, right? Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[genshin-obsessed]

Abandon | Tighnari x Reader

𓆩⟡𓆪 Beware! This is angst with no comfort! Otherwise, please enjoy~

𓆩⟡𓆪 I made this a bit shorter than it was intended but I didn’t want to make it too long and I felt like the ending was better this way.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Word count: 1367

"Ah... sorry. I'm just not in a place where I'm looking for a relationship. Thank you for your feelings; thank you for loving me. But, I can't return that love... not yet anyway."

Those were the words Tighnari had for you when you first confessed to him almost two years ago. Of course it broke your heart, but it was probably the nicest let down you could think of. You were upset, of course, but who were you to question his feelings? Tighnari was always busy with work and his studies to be in a relationship.

Relationships never seemed like they were for him, but his words had given you some inkling of hope that fueled your own feelings. The longer you spent around Tighnari, the more you felt your love for him grow. It truly felt endless. You never felt as if Tighnari took you for granted, he was just as any good friend would be. He supported you, was kind to you, encouraged you, and never judged you. Yet, there was always a feeling of emptiness that invaded your chest when you were around him.

Discontent.

No matter what, you were never satisfied with Tighnari's kindness towards you. It was never something you ever mentioned or acted upon, but you always felt like it wasn't enough. Unsurprisingly, you wanted more. You were in love with him and the gentle shoulder pats always left you wanting more.

That's when you realized your feelings had gotten out of hand. At first, being around Tighnari was enough. Just being able to see him, hear his voice, and helping to contribute to his work was enough. You weren't sure when it stopped, but now you needed to do something about it.

So, over the course of a month, you slowly began to get busier with your work. Twice a week, you would spend time with Tighnari, Cyno, Kaveh, and Alhaitham, usually playing Genius Invocation TCG. But you stopped attending due to taking on more work. Unfortunately, this led to some adverse health effects, but that was expected.

Consequently, you were called out by all four of your friends, especially Tighnari, who demanded you take some time off to take care of yourself. You felt guilty, avoiding your close friends the way you did. One thing you knew you couldn’t do was go cold turkey on Tighnari. It was a thought you just couldn’t handle so that’s why you were taking it slowly.

See, this is where things fell apart. It was a weekend and you had a day off. You went out with a friend and as you were heading home, you happened to run into the group and Cyno invited you to play Genius Invocation TCG.

“Sorry, I’ve been here a while and I’m tired.” You lied, giving them a halfhearted wave.

“Oh come on, (y/n).” Kaveh said with a frown as he placed his cards face down. “It’s been a while since you spent time with us. It’ll be fun! Hey! You can pester Tighnari about his new girlfriend.”

“Kaveh!” Tighnari hissed at his words but his friend had already spoken. Your entire body went rigid at Kaveh’s words and for a moment, everything fell silent. Your heart sank, the pit of anxiety grew within you, and the emotions slowly began to bubble.

Tighnari’s eyes slowly shifted to you, seeing that heartbroken look in your eyes. He wasn’t ready to see that. To see just how much the idea would hurt you. The remorse he fell made him realize he wasn’t as innocent as he pretended to be.

There was a very awkward silence that fell upon the group as everyone looked between you and Tighnari. The forest ranger looked guilty and you looked hurt. Even Alhaitham started to feel a little bad when he saw your face. Yet, you forced a smile, blinked back the tears, and looked at Kaveh which made the architect flinch a little.

“Sorry, I don’t have time for gossip. I’ve got an early day tomorrow but have fun on my behalf. And Tighnari, congrats on the new relationship. Didn’t know you had it in you.” There was a way you spoke that added to the guilt Tighnari felt. He knew you didn't mean that as a compliment.

With a wave, you turned and left, making all eyes land on Tighnari. The awkward silence continued for a moment before Alhaitham finally broke it.

“What the hell was that?” As usual, he was straightforward, needing answers to why you reacted the way you did.

“N-nothing. I’m sure they’re fine.” Tighnari lied as he looked at his cards. Yet, even though his eyes scanned the faces of the cards, he wasn’t thinking about the game or any strategy. He was worried about you because he knew the hope he gave you had just come crashing down. Yet, he didn’t move. The uncomfortable atmosphere remained around the four, but Tighnari remained where he was seated. ⎯⎯ ୨ A Little Later ୧ ⎯⎯

Your walk home was dreadful. Some pathetic part of you wished Tighnari would chase after you but he never did. Your entire walk home was filled with sniffling as you tried to bury the sadness down, which ultimately failed. Yet almost every moment was just waiting for him to catch up and apologize or even explain what was going on.

The words just kept repeating over and over in your head. Tighnari was in a relationship? He never told you any such thing. You weren’t even aware he had been looking. A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you approached the hill that led up to your home. You were so desperate, weren’t you? Hell, maybe he was going to tell you but you stopped hanging around him a few weeks ago.

You fooled yourself into acting as if you were completely unaware. You wanted Tighnari to love you back but acted as if it fine that he didn’t. Even after he rejected you, you hoped he would just one day come to you and declare he changed his mind. You dreamt of that day so many times, yet out of all the scenarios you made up, this wasn’t one of them.

You saw the look in his eyes. He knew how you felt and there was some inkling of guilt within his gaze. Yet, knowing that he might have felt some form of realization brought you no solace. You didn’t care if he was understood- not right now anyway. Knowing him, he probably wasn't even sorry.

Who was this girl he was dating? Did she work with him? Work with one of the others? Did you know her?

So many questions filled your mind that would remain unanswered for the foreseeable future. Your hand rubbed your wet cheek as you pushed your door open and closed it behind you. Your other hand mindlessly slid against the door and finding the lock, and turning it.

Your home felt… dreary. There was that silence that made the loneliness settle within you. Dropping your bag at your feet, you just walked inside and laid down on your couch. Your eyes stare at the ceiling and you were acutely aware when your vision began to blur with tears.

Soft sobs escaped your lips no matter how hard you tried to choke them down. You were angry. Angry at yourself for feeling this way, angry at Tighnari for giving you hope the day you confessed, angry at that girl who had him or whatever. No matter what you did, the tears just wouldn't stop. So, you just let go- you let those emotions flow out of you instead of holding them back.

You officially had to move on. Tighnari really didn’t feel the same way and you needed to let go of these stupid feelings. He wasn’t obligated to love you and you weren’t obligated to be friends with him. Especially since it was so painful. But that dull ache returned and you looked around your living space for any form of comfort. Yet, there was none. You were all alone.

There was a lingering thought in your head which kept reminding you every few moments that… Tighnari never came after you.

[baby-yongbok]

Hey can I pls request asking bf chan if you can give him a handjob for the first time and then making him cum all over your hand 🤭

This took me to a headspace that is currently causing brain rot so thank you for ruining me 😭This is a lot longer than I intended for it to be but I promise its worth it lol Enjoy! 💕

Free Time - Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader - Imagine

Word Count: 2,572

Warnings under the cut

✨Masterlist✨

✨Part 2: First Time✨

Warnings: Cursing, Cum tasting (for like a second), that should be all of the warnings? So Sorry if I missed any!

Reader is Called: Baby, Babygirl

Chan is called: Babe

Your relationship with Chan was nothing but sunshine, rainbows, and sexual tension. The two of you have only been dating for six months and you both agreed to take it very slow when it came to physical intimacy. You’ve done some stuff like making out, teasing each other over your clothes and even a bit of dry humping while making out but you have yet to fully expose yourselves to each other.

Today was one of Chan’s very rare days off and he promised to spend every second of it with you instead of working. The two of you spent the day doing absolute nonsense, you stayed in bed until noon and then ordered the most tasty yet unhealthy breakfast that you could imagine. Neither of you bothered to get dressed, you wore a flimsy tank top and panties and he wore nothing but a pair of basketball shorts. The two of you flipped through channels and played uno a couple of times until he got sick of losing. You played a silly game of hide and seek and even had a pillow fight. Your entire day seemed to come straight out of a rom com and you weren’t mad at that one bit. As it got later in the day your energy seemed to die down just a bit, the two of you decided to just chill and listen to music about two hours ago but it only brought your burst of energy back when Chan decided to try and teach you the choreo to Red Lights.

“You know I suck at dancing” You laughed as you tried to follow along with his directions.

“I know but this one is so easy.” He chuckled as he watched you mess up the move for the millionth time.

“I quit.” 

You playfully throw your hands up in defeat and move to change the song since the two of you have now listened to the Red Lights a gazillion times. Chan plops down on the couch, and you study him quickly as you move to sit next to him. He’s sweating slightly from trying to teach you the choreography and he’s slouched into the couch and man spreading in such a sexy way that you almost think that you’re crazy for thinking it. As you sit next to him your eyes catch a glimpse of the slight tent in his black shorts and you can’t help but to stare for a bit. Luckily, Chan has his head tilted and resting on the back of the couch with his eyes closed as he breathes softly, if it weren’t for his slight exhaustion your staring wouldn’t be all that subtle.

“What time is it?” He asks with a sigh as he lifts his head to look at the digital clock on the wall in front of you two. “Oh wow, ten o’clock already? It feels like it's six.” 

You chuckle and nod but your mind is on anything but the time right now. You quickly glance down at the outline of Chan’s member through his shorts before moving closer to him and throwing your leg over his knee and laying your head on his chest. 

“What should we do now? We’ve spent the entire day being adult children.” Chan wraps his arm around your shoulder slightly holding you against him and his fingers start tracing imaginary circles into your skin. 

“We could try to wind down for the night. Maybe I’ll go shower and you can do your little night time routine, put on your diffuser and dim the lights and stuff.” You smiled at the fact that he knew you so well, there was a certain atmosphere you liked to create in the house before you went to bed. You liked everything to feel soft and sensual but you weren’t sure if you were ready to give up the hyper fun vibes that were weaved into today quite yet. 

“Maybe” You moved your leg, throwing it over both of his and positioned yourself so that you were straddling him. “Or we could enjoy each other's company a bit longer.”

Chan’s hands found a home on your waist as he looked up at you with bright playful eyes. “Yeah? How would you like to enjoy my company, babygirl?”

His lips turned into a grin and he bit his tongue slightly in anticipation. You stared down at him with the same sparkling look in your eyes but your gaze was less playful, there was a glaze of lust over your eyes that Chan was slowly noticing. You know that he noticed it because you could feel the evidence hardening near your heat. 

“I think you know how.” You whispered as you leaned down towards his ear and left small kiss down his jawline. He let out a low groan as you continued to pepper light kisses all over his neck.

“Baby, what exactly is it that you want to do?” 

“Well, I still want to take it slow with you.” You kissed the shell of his ear in between sentences. “But, I saw that you were semi-hard and now I can feel that you’re completely bricked up.”

You chuckle lightly when Chan moans quietly from you sucking on his earlobe. “So, I was thinking that maybe… I could give you a hand job?”

You pull away from his neck to get a glimpse of his facial expression and honestly you can’t tell how he feels about it. You’ve never seen such an expression on his face before, it almost looks like a cross between excitement and confusion.

“You want to jerk me off?” He asks bluntly, making you blush slightly. You shake your head in confirmation and Chan swallows hard as his eyes search yours “Are you sure”

“I’m so so sure” You slowly get off of his lap and stand in front of him. He takes you in for a second, your pretty cotton panties are hugging your hips and your tank top is so thin that it might as well not exist. One of your tank top straps is falling off of your shoulder and your hair is back in a messy ponytail, his hungry eyes scanning you only makes him harder and his dick twitches as a result. You notice the movement and smile towards him.

“Can I? Are you okay with that?” He shakes his head before managing to get a meek ‘yes’ out of his mouth. You drop to your knees in front of him and trail your hands up his calves and then up his thighs under his shorts. Chan holds his breath for a second as you get closer to his member but he shakily exhales when you move your hands back down his legs. 

He watches your every move and keeps a close eye on your body language, he wants to make sure that you enjoy yourself too. You smile up at him as you excitedly sit up on your knees and reach for the waistline of his shorts giving them a slight tug before dipping them down and freeing his hard cock. You’ve only ever felt his member during make out sessions or when he got hard from you being on top of him, this is the first time that you’ve ever seen his cock and gosh to say that you’re impressed would be an understatement. You shimmy his shorts down a bit more down his thighs before lightly touching his hard dick and taking in just how perfect it looked. It’s a bit darker than the rest of his body and has a pretty prominent vein running along the bottom of it. The tip of his cock is red and dripping in anticipation and only one thought pops into your head.

“I did this to you?” He grins down at you and shakes his head.

“You always do, baby.” You grin back at him before running your hand up and down his shaft a couple of times trying to get used to the feel of his smooth skin and get accustomed to his thickness. “Fuck”

Chan’s head falls back against the couch at the friction and it only encourages you to do more. You lightly run your hand over the head of his cock and his hips slightly buck into your hand. You rub the pre-cum leaking from his cock across his tip with your thumb and he moans at the sensation.

“Baby, I’m really sensitive. It’s been awhile.” You shake your head in acknowledgement before spitting in your free hand and bringing it to his shaft. He watches as you take your second hand and smear your spit over his cock. A low groan erupts from his throat as his brows furrowed and he bites his lip slightly. 

“Tell me if I do anything you don’t like or if I can do anything different, okay?” He shakes his head with a slight smirk.

“Of course but you’re doing fucking amazing right now.” You shake your head before bringing your hand back up to your mouth and spitting in it again. You wet his cock and then slowly start to stroke him with your wet hand. “Oh fuck.” 

You try to keep a consistent rhythm while you pump his length, slowly increasing the speed as he melts into your touch. “Just like that, don’t slow down.” 

You maintain the speed that he likes but you decide to spice it up a little. You lick your other hand and wrap it around his tip, stroking up and down at the same pace that you're stroking his shaft. His hips buck into your hand again and he runs a hand through his hair before taking a hand full in his fist and slightly pulling at it. “Oh baby, you’re doing so fucking good.” 

Your mouth waters a bit as you watch how he reacts to you. His facial expressions and the way that his toes curl at the pleasure makes you want to give him more. You can’t help but to wonder what he’d be like when the two of you decide to take it all the way. 

You change up your technique a bit and start twisting your fists side to side in a screwing motion making sure to cover his entire tip with your hand. A deep groan leaves Chan’s throat as your hands work over him. 

“You like it, babe?” You ask in a bit of a cocky yet sexy tone, it feels good to see the effect that you have on him. You can barely imagine what it’ll be like the first time you use your mouth on him. 

“I love it.” He moans out “Can you twist your hands and go up and down at the same time, baby”

You hum in response before doing exactly as he asks. His head falls back against the couch again and his back arches slightly.  “Shit, babygirl, so perfect.”

You raise up on your knees a bit and spit down onto his cock making sure to keep it nice and wet, Chan groans at the sight and his free hand reaches forward and lightly grips your chin making you look into his eyes. With his brows still furrowed he dips his tongue out of the side of his mouth and bites it lightly before shaking his head. 

“You’re so pretty jerking my cock like that.” A low moan escapes you as your eyes flutter shut momentarily and your lips part slightly. You bite your lip a bit as you keep his eye contact. Suddenly, his eyes shut tightly and his brows raise before furrowing again and his lips pull into a thin line. You lean forward a bit spitting down onto his cock again and the wet sounds that fill the room make the scene nearly feel pornographic. Chan opens his eyes and his mouth falls open as he shakes his head to encourage you to keep up what you’re doing. 

“I’m gonna fucking cum.” He groans out and you swear that it’s the hottest thing that you’ve ever heard him say while you’ve been with him. You keep your hands going to a steady pace squeezing a bit more to give him a tighter feel. “Baby..” He moans out  and you moan back in response.

His grip on your chin loosens slowly before he retracts his hand to bring both of them up behind his head to grab at his hair as his breathing quickens and his hips buck lightly fucking himself into your hand. “Just like that” 

You keep your eyes on his and you watch as his cheeks start to turn red and he fights to keep his eyes on yours. “Fuck.. I’m..” His head falls back and he moans out loudly, you feel his cock twitch in your hands and you moan as you watch his first stream of cum fall against your hand.

“I’m fucking cumming” He grunts out and you slow down your movements as you watch his cum spurt out in hot bursts that cover your hands and drip down to the hardwood. Chan lets out a deep sigh and starts deep breathing to slow his heart rate. You slowly stop twisting with both hands and instead use one to jerk him lightly to ensure that you get every last drop from him. 

“There’s so much.” You whisper to yourself but Chan hears you and chuckles lightly.

“I told you that it's been a while.” He lifts his head to look at you, his hands let go of his hair and fall to his side. You haven’t let go of his now softening member yet and it’s purely because your curiosity is getting the best of you right now. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just.. I want to taste it.” Chan’s brows furrow again but before he can ask what you mean you bring your cum covered hand up to your mouth and take a small taste. His eyes widen as he watches your tongue dip out and lick his arousal, a small groan leaves his lips as you look into his eyes and lick it again, taking a bit more this time. 

“Not bad.” You shrug before standing from your spot between his legs.

“That was fucking hot.” He watches a smile creep up on your lips and you shake your head playfully. 

“Come on, let's clean up and wind down. You made a mess on the floor.” 

“Oh yeah I made a mess.” He laughs as he stands trying to avoid the puddle of his cum on the floor. You both go to the bathroom and clean yourselves up. Chan pulls up his shorts and just when you’re about to leave the bathroom he grabs your shirt lightly and his hand finds your waist pulling you back into him. 

“Thank you for that. You really were amazing, so so perfect.” He plants a kiss on your neck and you giggle, smiling wide. 

“It was my pleasure.” His fingers caress your sides as he leans into your ear.

“Your turn?” You blush immediately as you look over your shoulder to your smiling boyfriend. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Maybe.” You shake your ass against him teasingly before breaking free from his hold and sashaying away. He watches you with hungry eyes and you can feel his gaze on you. Maybe you won't be winding down anytime soon. 

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part two

authors note: well, holy shit, the response to this has been so unexpected yet insanely appreciated and humbling! the kind words of support and interest really have been so wonderful to receive. thank you thank you thank you!

this ended up much longer than i intended, but i couldn't find a "good" place to break it in half, so i apologize for the length.

i also feel like this is a bit on the boring but necessary side in terms of setting the scene and backdrop for what's to come....

i also feel like this is gonna def be more than 4 parts, so sorry!!!!

warnings: language, slight sexy time, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny's child

words: 7.5k

tag gang: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion @tshepisho @lizzycaraballo-blog @xiamentshoneypot

“I need a break.” He slid out of you, the absence of his thick dick noticeable and borderline uncomfortable. Despite the fact that your voice was hoarse, limbs jello, and pussy tender as all outdoors, you still wanted him. Wanted to feel him inside you. But you knew you also needed some amount of time for your body recoup for the next round, so you made logic overpowered lust.

He made a sound, lying on his back, eyes on the ceiling. “So fucking needy for this dick.”

“Shut up.” It was intentionally not a denial, because he wasn’t entirely wrong. It’d been a shitty past couple weeks, what with parent teacher conferences, your least favorite time of the year. There were only so many different ways you could try to gently explain to parents that their child wasn’t the next Cornel West and actually could benefit from “additional evaluations.” But that almost always went over their heads as they attempted to tell you, the professional, the real reason why their child wasn’t doing well.

You were just over all of it and damn near at your wits end when you got the text from Joe that he’d be in town this weekend. That goofy ‘i’m about to get some good dick’ smile was damn near stamped on your face in the days preceding his arrival. You needed an outlet, and wearing yourself out on his dick until you were physically incapacitated happened to be the perfect one, the best one.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have options, you did, but they were subpar. And that was the problem with having a chance to experience superior dick, everything else that followed was mid. No one had ever fucked you like Joe. No man before him had ever made you come from just penetration. You always needed more. Had to sometimes physically instruct them on what you needed. Not with him. He gave you more—-the man could and had stayed with his face buried between your legs for hours on end—-but it wasn’t necessary. He could fuck you to a toe curling, light blinding climax with just a few good, deep strokes.

And yes, you still struggled with the guilt of fucking someone else’s man, but in times like this, where you were beyond stressed the fuck out, all you could think about was getting off and decreasing that stress. The guilt session could come later.

“What’s wrong?” He asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence. You could both be around each other and not say a word without an ounce of discomfort. It was nice.

“Parents suck.” You answer, bluntly, afterwards realizing how vague that is. “I’ve had parent teacher conferences the past couple weeks, and they’ve been getting on my nerves trying to tell me how to do my job.”

“That sounds annoying.”

“Beyond, and makes me feel like they’re insinuating I don’t know what I’m talking about. I do. They just don’t want to hear it.” They prepared you in school, to some extent, to expect those select parents that weren’t the easiest to work with but to always stand behind your professional judgment regardless if one agreed or not. And for the most part, your parents in the years since you’d been teaching were relatively chill. It just seemed that this time of the year is when all of them decided to be in their difficult era.

One hand behind his head, Joe looks over at you. “Then that’s on them.” He shrugs. “You can’t make them hear what they don’t want to hear.”

Groaning loudly, you turn on your side, propping your own head up with your hand. “I know. It just sucks for the kids. There’s a couple who might be on the spectrum or have ADHD, but I can’t outright say it, so all I can do is strongly imply. And trust me, my implications are clear as fucking day. It’s just annoying when I have to work harder than I should to get people to be their kids' advocate, not their adversary.”

He’s quiet for a second and then asks. “What’s the best part of your job?”

The answer doesn’t even require contemplation. “My students. Hands down. I love kids. I love helping them learn and seeing the excitement on their face when they finally grasp a concept I’m teaching. It’s super rewarding.” 

His gaze lingers on you, “Then focus on that. You do this because it’s a passion and a love and you’re clearly good at it.” 

His words marinate over you, reminiscent of past conversations where you’re the one feeding positivity into him, reminding him to not lose focus of what’s most important and why he does what he does. The roles being reversed is different but nice. It’s nice to have him to talk to, it’s always easy to do so.

You move your hand to his chest and slowly walk your fingers downward. “Good dick and good advice. This trip is a double win for me.”

His jaw clenches when you begin to stroke him, sinfully and intentionally slowly. A smirk forms on your face. He’s just as needy for you as you are for him.

Joe’s voice is hoarse with desire. “You ready for the next round?”

“Yes.” You’re not sure if physically, you’re well enough, but that’s what epsom salt baths are for. And Motrin. You need him. Climbing on top, you grab his hardened length and align it at your entrance, dew coating the tip and serving as natural lubricant. “But I want to be on top this time.” 

________

“Mommy!”

You’re startled awake by the loud voice, jumping body, and smiling face of your personal alarm clock. The only alarm clock you’ve ever had that you can’t dictate the time it goes off. It takes a second for you to settle yourself, to push away the inappropriate afterthoughts of such a salacious dream—one you’re slightly disappointed couldn’t play out longer—to focus on the little human in front of you.

The shining sun beaming down on you from the curtains you’re certain she opened assists in doing just that. You rub at your eyes, a small, warm smile growing. “Good morning, Callie Bear.”

Her eyes, big, brown, and always full of curiosity are focused on you as she stops jumping and lands on her knees. “You’re up!”

You chuckle, how can you not be up with a rambunctious four year old jumping on your bed and screaming for you to wake up? ”I’m up.”

“Yay!” She cheers, tiny fists raised up and victory. “Can we have pancakes?” 

“I don’t know.” You pretend to contemplate her request, index finger against your bottom lip. “Can we?”

She pouts, and you bite on your lip to suppress your laughter. Her arms cross over her tiny chest, bonnet covered head tilting to the side. “May we have pancakes?”

Sometimes, you feel bad for your daughter, having a teacher for a mother. You’re always going to be on her about anything academic related, especially English. “We certainly can.” Yawning, you sit up in bed and scratch your scalp through your bonnet. “But first, hygiene.” 

Swooping her into your arms, you’re met with a chorus of giggles as you tickle her stomach with your index finger. Walking into the bathroom, you sit her on the counter and reach her her toothbrush, putting on her (Halle Bailey) Little Mermaid themed toothpaste before letting her do her thing as you do hers.

This is the first time in a while that you’re grateful for your daughter waking you up so early on a weekend. Those dreams….you’d be lying if you said they didn’t happen more than you’d like to admit. You’d tried to figure out what triggered them but have yet to be successful. 

The simplest answer would be that you miss him. You miss Joe, but that’s also the answer you refuse to admit. You can’t miss him. Don’t have the right to miss someone else’s man, someone else’s husband. 

All you can do is be appreciative that one of the biggest regrets in your life brought you your biggest blessing.

Calista, Callie, to almost everyone she knows, was a complete and utter surprise.

It was time for your women’s wellness exam, and in the set of questions they asked you, one was of course the date of your last menstrual cycle. Being stumped for a second was normal, hence why you used your beloved Flo app to track your cycle. But, it’s when you opened the app and realized you hadn’t logged a period in two months, you knew.

Didn’t need a blood test to tell you the obvious. 

You were most definitely pregnant. 

You’d used Flo consistently since you were 14 years old, there was no way in hell you’d forgotten for two whole months to input the period dates.

So, after crying and damn near having a panic attack, your doctor provided you with pamphlets. Options, as they were called. You wouldn’t review them until a couple days later, needing that time to process that you were actually pregnant. Pregnant by a married man that you’d ended things with, ironically, on the night your daughter was conceived.

What in the actual fuck were you supposed to do? Send him a text and say ‘nvm. Congrats, we’re expecting. Are you gonna tell your wife or should I?’ To this day, you’re convinced that the nasty wave of ‘morning sickness’ you experienced the first few weeks of finding out you were with child was actually just your absolute disgust that you’d allowed another woman’s husband to impregnate you.

It was like you were walking in the same footsteps your mother molded for you. Something you swore you’d die before letting happen.

What’s that saying? We make plans, and God laughs. Well, he must be having a field day with you. 

It was actually in confiding in Mariah, your best friend since kindergarten, that you were able to look past your shame and panic to see this for what it is.

“You want to have kids, don’t you?” She asked in an obvious tone, picking through the big bowl of popcorn you two shared while Insecure played at a low volume on your TV. “Well, here’s the kid.”

“I wanted to have kids with a husband, Mariah.”

“Well—“

“Shut up.” You tossed a few pieces of popcorn in her direction. This was not the time for her occasional joke. You were too busy having a mental breakdown.

“Does it really matter how the baby got here? Aren’t you the one always saying kids are a blessing? Why are you trying to block yours?” It’s a fair, valid point that you’re too stubborn to want to hear, even if it’s what you needed to hear. “I’m just saying if you’ve been blessed with being a mom, something you’ve always wanted. Seems kinda silly we’re having this discussion instead of baby names, baby showers, and gender reveals.”

“I’m not doing a gender reveal.” That much you are absolutely sure of. Never. But, Mariah’s words do resonate with you. Why were you so caught up on how you got pregnant? Yeah, it was fucked up, but dwelling on it did nothing but make you feel worse. You always imagined this would be a happy occasion, couldn’t you find it in you to be happy? Regardless of the father and that whole Tubi of a situation.

There was a life growing inside of you, no matter the dynamics of the creation, the child had done nothing wrong, didn’t deserve to be blamed. And the truth was you weren’t really that upset, you were more happy than anything, if you really allowed yourself to feel without reservation. Borderline excited, even. Maybe even at the fact that you would always have a small piece of him with you in a really big way. 

Even if he wouldn’t be a part of that experience.

And it was then that you decided. You didn’t care what anyone thought, couldn’t think about how your mother, who was completely unaware about your relationship with Joe for the entire three years, would react. You’d figure out the rest of this later because you were having this baby, but you were having this baby by yourself. Joe couldn’t know.

He wouldn’t know.

And almost five years later, nothing has changed. Yes, you absolutely couldn’t see yourself making it through your pregnancy and even the first few weeks postpartum without the help of your mom and Mariah. But, for the most part, you did everything you could by yourself for your daughter, wanting her to see the strength and perseverance of a strong, single mother. 

She finishes brushing before you and spits out the remnant toothpaste in her mouth. “Are we gonna see grandma today?”

You finish a few seconds after, spitting and wiping your mouth before answering. “We certainly are.”

“Yay!” She celebrates as you bring the towel to her face, giving it a gentle cleanse before tossing it into the hamper. Callie wastes no time in removing her bonnet and giving her curls a good shake. The two of you share a laugh as you follow suit. 

 “Pancake time?”

Separating some of her coils, you answer with a wink. “Let mommy wash her face, and I’ll be right out, kiddo.”

“Okay.” Nodding, she jumps off the counter and hurries into the kitchen knowing good and well what’s about to come out of your mouth.

“Sis, what have I told you about jumping off this damn counter?” All you hear is giggling in the wake of her dash. This child has daredevil tendencies that bring out a certain, uncomfortable level of anxiety. Medical bills weren’t in the budget, so you needed her to calm the hell down. 

She probably gets it from–

Shaking your head from unnecessary thoughts, you quickly work your way through your routine and eventually meet her in the kitchen to find her on her tablet, probably trying to figure out what movie to put on while you two cook. On the weekends, you remove the passcode from her device but still maintain the time limits for her overall screen time. 

You refuse to allow her to become an “ipad kid.”

“What’cha pick for us?” Moving through the kitchen, you pull out the necessary items and place them on the small island. 

Climbing onto the barstool, she flips the screen with a proud smile. “Moana!”

Gasping with faux surprise, you ask, “again?”

Much like her mother who was like her mother, an affinity and passion for all things Disney is another thing your child inherited. She could watch Disney movies for the rest of life and never get bored. And Moana was at the top of that list, the new Little Mermaid was a close favorite, but Moana resonated deeply with Callie for reasons you still don’t fully understand. 

Well, she is half Pacific Islan—

Clearing your throat, you and Callie get to work on breakfast, both singing along and dancing to the catchy Disney music. It’s a sweet bonding moment between the two of you, a bit of a tradition on the weekends. You’re not much of a cook, at all, but breakfast food is relatively simple. And thankfully, your child is not as picky as some other kids. A stack of pancakes with sausage is always enough to satisfy her. 

It’s when you’re both sitting in the living room, on the floor, legs crossed while you eat the delicious breakfast that you’d prepared together that a thought crosses your mind.

A distraction could be beneficial, the dream from earlier still floating around in the back of your head. And not even the dream in as much as the main event from the theme. 

You needed some dick. It’d been too long, that itch needing a scratch to give you some much needed reset. 

So, it’s when Callie is focused on the scene in Moana when Maui’s hook is broken that you grab your phone and shoot off a text. 

You free today?

Not even five minutes later, your phone buzzes with a response. 

Just tell me when and where.

________

Walking through the doors of your mother’s hair salon is always an experience, nostalgic almost, to all the times you and your friends would hang out there with the hopes that you could get free or discounted services. Usually free for you, not so much for your friends. 

Business was still business.

The familiar smell of hair oils, deep conditioner, and the overall sound of flat irons sizzling through hair brings a warm smile to your face. It’s things like this, this place even, that remind you why you decided to come home after college.

Home, where the closest major stores like Target and Walmart, and even the airport, are nearly half an hour away. Where you have only one elementary school, one middle school, and one high school. Where many of the streets are two laned and littered with storefronts, like your mom’s salon. Hell, the freaking bank, post office, and city hall are in the same building.

Everyone knows everyone, and for the most part, everyone looks out for each other. 

It isn’t for everybody, this almost Hallmark movie type setup. You know this. Hence why many leave for school and never or seldom return. But, for you, it’s home.

It’s also the perfect place to discreetly and raise the daughter of a celebrity.

“Grandma!”

Your mom is in the middle of a conversation with a patron but almost immediately redirects her attention to the equally familiar voice of Calista. “There’s my grandbaby!” Callie runs into your mom’s arms and is peppered with kisses all over. “Looking more and more like your mama every day.”

That genuinely makes you smile. You tend to think she favors Joe more than yourself, usually when she’s making certain facial expressions. She has a lot of his mannerisms, which you are grateful for, happy that she has characteristics from both sides. But any and all of the good things she can take from you, you want her to have.  

Callie’s smile is bright and infectious, as always. “That’s cause mommy’s my mommy!”

You laugh, approaching them and leaning in for your mom’s one armed hug as she has Callie in her other arm. “Hey, mama.”

“Hey, baby.”

Your relationship with your mom has definitely been up and down over the years, which you’d like to think is the standard for most mother-daughters. It’s something that’s arguably strengthened over time, especially post Callie. You’d gained so much more appreciation for your mother raising you on her own as a single parent. There was always appreciation, but infinitely more now as you were also in the same position. 

“I was hoping she could hang out with you for a little bit today. I have some business to take care of. If that’s okay?” 

Your mother gives you the look, the look that indicates she knows there’s more to what you’re saying but she won’t push out of respect for your privacy. And you’re grateful for that. You don’t necessarily want to explain that you need her to keep an eye out on Callie while you attend your dick appointment. 

Sucking her teeth, she starts walking to the back where her office is located. “When have I ever had an issue spending time with my only grandchild?” She has you there. Your mom would take Callie every day if you let her, and you’re so thankful for that. Not even for the tremendous assistance your mom provides but for the close relationship she has with Callie, similar to how close you were with your grandma. “Want me to do her wash day for her while she’s here?”

At that, Callie’s eyes go wide as she starts to whine, “noooo. I don’t want to.”

You chuckle. “That’s how mommy feels too, babes.” You dreaded her wash day as much as you dreaded your own. The women in your family were blessed with long, thick, healthy curls that Callie clearly inherited from you but also her father’s side cause the girl had some hair. “If you don’t mind, mama.”

She waves off your unnecessary added comment and starts to assess the state of Callie’s hair, murmuring comments to herself. 

You lean down in front of Callie and move your hand to her knee. “You sure you’re gonna be okay, sweetie?”

She nods and asks, “can we get ice cream when you come back?”

“We surely can.” You don’t allow her to have a lot of sweets—she already has enough energy as it is—but every so often, you two get the homemade ice cream cones at the local parlor. Sometimes you’ll sit outside and just talk, sharing laughs and inside jokes over the best ice cream anyone could ever have. And considering she’s about to endure a wash day, she deserves it. “I love you, Callie Bear.”

Putting her tablet on her lap, she leans over and hugs you tight. For such a tiny human, she always gives the best, most loving hugs. “I love you too, mama.”

Callie goes back to her tablet, and you issue your mom one more statement of appreciation before heading out so you can have your urge squashed and get back in time to have dessert with your little girl. 

On the car ride there, you send up a quick prayer that this time will be different, that you can get what you need and be gone without being asked to stay. It’s always the same answer, so maybe the last one finally stuck to where he won’t hope.

Won’t get his own feelings hurt.

________

“You know you don’t always have to leave right away.”

Of course.....of course.

You’re in the midst of hooking your bra back on when he hits you with the offer you were stupidly hoping he’d pass on this time around. 

Bold of you to assume you could come get some dick without this man trying to turn it into a cuddle session. 

Your smile is tight as you politely decline. “I don’t want to leave Callie at the salon too long. You never know what she’s hearing.”

It’s a weak excuse, hence him poking a hole right through it. “You know your mom would shut that down right away. Get back in the bed.”

“Really, Amir, I can’t stay.” Once your bra is on, you reach on the ground for your panties, sliding them back on as well. The sooner you get yourself decent, the sooner you can dip.

“Can’t or won’t?”

And here it goes. Sometimes, you wonder why you continue to put yourself in this situation. Amir’s stroke game is nice, but is it really worth this constant routine? You two fuck, he tries to make it more, an argument, silence on both ends for a little while until one of you needs that urge handled. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. 

It’s been roughly the same since you were in high school.

Amir was your first damn near everything: first crush, first boyfriend, first kiss, first time. It was a textbook small town romance. He was the quarterback, and you were the cheerleading captain. Everyone said you were perfect together and predicted at one point you’d get married after college. Truthfully, you once thought the same. But outside of aesthetics, your relationship was always rocky, borderline toxic. 

He had poor boundaries with other girls but never saw an issue because it never went beyond flirting. And because you were young, dumb, and just as toxic sometimes, you’d intentionally flirt with other guys to piss him off, knowing it was wrong to drag innocents into your Bobby and Whitney of a relationship but more interested in making him see your side of it.. 

Still, young and dumb. Not an excuse, but definitely a reason.

Even as you both went off to college, each attending separate schools, you’d occasionally hookup during the winter breaks. More often during the summer. He was your constant, preferred over allowing random dick into you, especially as he was most familiar and you knew he was clean. The devil you know type of thing.

Post college was when you really ended it, deciding that it was time to put the childish things behind you, time to put him behind you.

And you’d done relatively well for a while, the two of you becoming damn near strangers. Especially when Joe came into the picture. Amir was good in bed, but Joe was heavenly. Just the thought of anyone other than him fucking you at that time was repulsing. 

But, Joe is gone, has been, so now you’re stuck returning to the same nigga you just can’t seem to get rid of because he has a decent sized dick he, mostly, knows how to use.

And your rose can only go so far. 

“Fine. Won’t. Don’t. Not interested.” Standing up, you shoot him a look of challenge, of defiance. “Better?”

Your words understandably tick him off as he cruelly asks, “How long are you gonna let yourself be stuck on him? That nigga abandoned you and his kid, what is there to even be stuck on?”

Regardless of what happened between you and Joe, mostly with how it played out, you refuse to allow anyone to speak badly of him. Specifically when it pertains to his absence in your and Callie’s lives, especially since that was 100% your call. Only a select few know the full story, therefore the majority have no right to speak on it. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, so please just shut the fuck up.”

“Where is he then, huh? It’s been almost 5 years, Y/N. You need to move the fuck on. He’s your past.” Moving out of the bed, he comes up to you and places one hand to your face. You fight the desire to pull away. His touch is suddenly uncomfortable, feels wrong and noisome. “It’s time to focus on your future.”

Not that you’d ever admit it to Amir, but there’s a hint of truth to his voice. Eventually, random hookups to fulfill your sexual needs will become insufficient. Hell, even now, you still desire to be married, to give Callie that 'traditional' family. The problem is mostly lack of options, even if Amir seems convinced you two should give it another try.

 When hell freezes over. 

Your voice is even and to the point as you finish dressing and pull out your key fob. “Like I said, thanks for the scratch, but that’s all this is.” Without giving him time to talk more shit, you head out the door without another fucking word.

________

“Oh shit, is that ole girl Randy used to mess with?” Joe is only halfheartedly listening to what his cousin is saying, mostly focused on the work email he’s reading on his phone. It’s far and few in between they actually have time off, let alone enough time to go home and be among the rest of family. He’s trying to enjoy it and is enjoying it, but work is always on his mind, hence his inability to ignore the email notification that slid in mid-group conversation. “What was her name?”

“It started with an M, didn’t it?” Jey suggests. “Mariah, I think.” 

It's when the correct name is stated that Joe’s attention is briefly redirected. Mariah was your friend, the reason he was ever introduced to you. It’s a name he hasn’t heard in years. If only that was the same amount of time it’s been since he thought of you. No, instead, you’ve taken up real estate in his mind more than he’d ever like to admit or acknowledge.

“Wait, isn’t that—-” Jimmy is silenced, and out of the corner of Joe’s eye, he can see it’s because Jey gave him a look. That look you give someone when you want them to shut up.

Now…now they have his attention.

“What?” It’s when the twins share a look with each other, Jey shaking his head that Joe puts his phone to the side as Jimmy hits the lock button on his phone. “Let me see.” 

“Look, Uce—”

“I said, let me see.” One thing Joe can’t stand more than anything is when people beat around the bush or try to hide things from him. He prefers people to be upfront and honest, damn whatever feelings come up. The truth is always better, in his mind.

And yet……

Shaking his head, Jimmy blows out a breath and hands his cousin the phone.

Joe looks down and instantly regrets ever pushing the matter.

Five years.

It’s been almost five fucking years since he’s seen that beautiful smile, those deep dimples that were one of the first things he noticed about you, outside of your breathtaking beauty. You looked almost exactly the same, maybe a bit heavier, still in all of the right places. Hair a little longer but still the same deep onyx with streaks of purple. You’re smiling and posing with Mariah who also hasn’t changed much outside of a new hair color and the huge baby bump she’s sporting. A baby shower, he’d guess. 

But outside the shock of seeing you, Joe’s attention is also on the third person in the photo. A child, young in age, no more than 4 or 5, black, curly hair styled in two space-buns and a deep dimpled smile that’s almost identical to yours. Her eyes are a beautiful light brown shade, a contrast to your chocolate colored eyes.

But similar to….similiar to his. 

Brows furrowed, Joe is surprised to see you’re tagged in the photo, so he goes to your profile and is even more shocked to find it public. You were always such a private person, but he chalks it up to the fact that the only people who’d really know how to find it would have to be those close to you.

You don’t have a ton of pictures, but he clicks on the first one that has a set of photos of you and the same little girl from the baby shower. It’s dated almost six months ago, so not the newest but better than nothing. The post is a slideshow, so he begins to scroll through the photos, each of them with you and that same child, clearly at various points in her life. The last one stops him for a moment, a photo of you, crying, in a hospital bed holding a newborn baby. 

Swallowing back his emotions, Joe redirects his gaze to the caption:

my calista, my callie, my baby girl. God used one of the hardest periods of my life to bless me with the best gift anyone can receive. every day with you is an adventure. from your incessant questions about the most random of things, constant requests for disney movie marathons, to the way you refuse to part from me without giving the biggest hug and kiss goodbye while yelling ‘i love you, mommy!’. callie, you are my whole heart, and there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you, sweet girl. here’s to year 4 and many many more of having the biggest honor and privilege ever of being your mama bear. 

So many things are going through his head right now. 

You had a child.

You have a child.

Based upon the date of the post, you have a child who will be five years old in a couple of months.

A child who has your smile, but his eyes, his nose, and a complexion that looks the perfect combination of the two of you. She looks like the perfect combination of the two of you.

It’s hard to not jump to the obviously glaring conclusion that all of this brings, and still, he tries to not allow his head to go there. You would….you would never do that. You would never keep his child from him, no matter how things ended between the two of you. There was wrongness to that that reached low levels of depravity, and he just couldn’t conjoin that kind of deception with who he always knew you to be. 

You were a woman who believed and tried to live by her morals. It was the reason you eventually cut him out of your life. Nothing about not telling him he has a child is moral. 

He wordlessly hands the phone back to Jimmy and goes back to reading the email, acting like nothing just happened and he doesn't have a million and one thoughts running through the back of his mind. 

It’s after he walks away, giving off an excuse that he needs to call Hunter to discuss a proposed promo that the conversation commences.

“So, we all just gon act like that lil' girl don’t look like Uce? She even got his eyes, man,” Jimmy, being Jimmy, is the first to say it aloud, the only one to actually verbalize what the others are thinking. 

“Jimmy,” Naomi chides but can’t help adding. “Do you really think that could be his kid?”

Jey decides to join in on the conversation. “It’s possible. They messed around for years.”

“But would she really do that? Have his baby and not even tell him about her?” Naomi only met you a handful of times, but all of the interactions were pleasant, and she secretly thought you and Joe would have made a cute couple if the stars were aligned differently. “She had to have told him.”

Jimmy gestures to the sliding door Joe walked through minutes earlier. “Does that look like he knew?”

“This is all just speculation.” Joseph decides to join the conversation, always the one who prefers to listen to all sides before adding his two cents. “Similiar facial features don’t mean they’re related.”

“No, but add in the timeline plus the way it ended, and you can’t help but lean one way.”

“What did happen between them?” Somewhat newer to this circle, Joseph realizes that’s a topic he’s never really heard much about. He knows his cousin basically has an open marriage and sleeps around, but he’s always heard whispers there was a woman he was with for years. 

“She just ended it one day.” Jey answers with a shrug. “Uce really ain't say much outside of that. It was sudden though.”

“But was it? Three years of waiting around for a guy to maybe or maybe not leave his wife for you?” Naomi serves as a counter, shaking her head and leaning forward to rest her chin in her hand. “Sounds like more than enough time to me.”

“It wasn’t nothing like that though. They was just messing around,” Jimmy defends.

“He cut off every other woman he was messing with when they were together.” Jey distinctly remembers how his cousin had one woman and only one woman on speed dial during that period, and it was you. It was always you. “I think it was more than just messing around.”

Joseph nods, taking in all this information. “So, if she is his, do you think she kept her a secret to get back at him for not divorcing Jadah?” It’s a bold question, but a valid one that Jey is the first to dispute.

“Naw, I’m with Naomi. Y/N wouldn’t do that.”

Jimmy shakes his head, starting to see how this is all looking to play out. “Well, if that is Joe’s daughter and that’s how he found out he has a child….this shit is about to get real ugly.”

________

Joe tried to tell himself it was just a wild coincidence. Reminded himself that you yourself said you wanted to get married, have kids. And you’d done that, had a kid. However, revisiting your Instagram pictures, in none of your posts did he see a man.

Or a wedding ring.

And just how fucking quickly could you have moved on? Doing the math, you would have had to have someone on speed dial to get pregnant as fast as you did. And that doesn’t line up with who he knew you to be. You were fucking him and only him. 

You were with him and only him.

So that left him and only him.

And like a man hyperfixated on trying to solve a puzzle, he looks at every single post on your Instagram, starting from the year you met up until now. He focuses especially on the posts that include your daughter, not that many, but enough. 

And when it’s all said and done, thoughts vs counterthoughts, logic vs emotion, Joe is 100% convinced that this is his child.

That he’s just now found out he’s a father through fucking Instagram. 

And now he’s pissed because who the hell were you to keep his child from him? He didn’t give a fuck how you felt about him and his being married, that didn’t give you an excuse to hide a whole kid? 

His kid. 

________

“Ready for your bedtime story, Callie Bear?” 

Reading with Callie has been a must since you found out you were pregnant. Your mom always told you how she read to you in the womb and to this day believes it’s why you always tested out so high with your reading abilities, even in the first grade. You’re not sure how accurate it is, having read some studies and whatnot, but you’ve followed suit, reading to Callie even when she was in your belly. Almost five years later, it’s now a tradition. She can’t go to sleep without a story.

She nods happily. You laugh and slide into the bed next to her. Naturally, she cuddles close to you, book already picked out and waiting on the bed. It’s one she’s heard a dozen times before but one of her favorites, so you read it just as theatrically, voice changes, and everything. Her giggles of happiness and merriment warm your heart. You love these one-on-one moments, wishing you could jar them and keep them stored away forever.

You’re a couple chapters in when she starts to yawn, eyes struggling to stay open, that you slide in the bookmark and promise to pick it up again tomorrow. You know Callie is ready to call it a night when she doesn’t protest. 

But, it’s after placing the book on the shelf and going to tuck her into her covers that she hits you with a question that nearly sends you into cardiac arrest.

“Mommy, why don’t I have a daddy?”

You’re not stupid, far from it. This question was bound to come up, sooner or later. For your own selfish sake though, you were hopeful for later, much much later.

She continues, almost nervous in tone. “Ms. Leah said you need a mommy and a daddy to make a baby, so where’s my daddy?”

Curious how the conversation of where babies came from came about, you make a mental note to discuss this with your daughter’s preschool teacher before working to answer her valid question. Truth be told, you have no idea how to answer it. But if anxiety was the dominant emotion before, sadness and devastation easily topple that at the next thing to come out of her mouth.

“Does he not  love me?”

It’s not until that moment that you truly know what it feels like for your heart to shatter into absolute pieces.

“Oh, baby….” Crouching down beside her bed, you move your hand to her forehead, thumb gently caressing her soft skin. You’re so damn lost on how to handle this, what to say to take away her obvious pain, that you go with the soonest thing that hits the forefront of your brain. “Your daddy…..he….he wasn’t ready to be a daddy.”

It could be the truth, it could be a lie. You never gave yourself—or him—the chance to find out, and up until this point, you never saw an issue with that. But now….now you’re wondering just who you made that decision for. 

And if it was the right one.

Callie’s frown deepens, the answer clearly not one that makes her feel any better. “What if I’m a really good girl? Will he be ready then?”

The shattered pieces are now dust, granulated dust that you struggle to hold together in trembling palms. You bring both hands to her face. “Calista, you listen to me. You are the kindest, sweetest, most amazing little girl in the whole wide world. You don’t need to do anything to be a good girl because you are already a good girl, the best girl.”

Her eyes glaze over as she sniffles and asks in a small voice. “So why doesn’t he want me?”

“Oh, sweetie…” You pull her into a hug, holding her close and tight, as if doing so will allow her to absorb all of the love and adoration you have for this tiny human who made your life have meaning. “I’m gonna talk to him, okay? I’ll….I’ll talk to him.” That’s all you can say, even if it’s not a guarantee, even if you have no idea where such an offer came from. And you hate yourself for doing that, for getting her hopes up over something that may not even happen. You haven’t spoken to Joe in almost five years, there’s no guarantee the number is even still the same.

Still, you know you have to at least try, especially when you pull back and see the renewed hope in her teary eyes, the eyes she shares with the father she’s clearly desperate to know about, to meet, to have. 

You close your eyes and press your forehead against hers, speaking with all the love and affirmation in the world, “I love you, Calista. Always, baby.” 

You’re relieved to hear her reply in a less saddened and more hopeful tone, “I love you too, mommy.”

It’s after you’re certain Callie is knocked out and you’ve exhausted every single step of your nighttime routine that you pace around your room, partially trying to avoid an action you know you need to take. 

Especially when you find his number in your phone from an old text thread you could never find it in you to delete. 

You go back and forth for nearly twenty minutes before deciding on a simple question.

is this still joe’s number?

You feel like a damn child, throwing the phone down on the bed and burying your face into your hands. This is so much more difficult than it needs to be, or maybe it isn’t. You made the executive decision to not make Joe aware of your pregnancy for a variety of reasons that felt solid at the time.

Now…now you don’t know any fucking thing anymore, it seems. 

What you do know is that you nearly jump off the bed when your phone begins to ring. Frowning, you look at the time, wondering who in the hell could be calling you at damn near midnight.

But, it’s when you lift your phone to see the caller you know exactly why someone is calling you at damn near midnight.

Ignoring it is so tempting, but the image of Callie in tears wondering why she’s not loved or wanted is more than enough to trample your selfish desires. Sliding the green button upward, you place the phone against your ear, take a deep breath, and speak, “hi.” 

He exhales, your name leaving his mouth for the first time in years. Hearing his voice, let alone hearing him say your name, creates a heaviness you weren’t expecting. Then again, you weren’t expecting to speak to him at all tonight.

Or ever, for that matter.

Communication is suddenly incredibly difficult as you struggle to string words together to create a cohesive statement. “I’m….I’m sorry for calling so late, but—”

“We need to talk.” While your tone is soft and nervous, his is serious and borderline stoic. It takes you for a bit of a loop, but you try not to put too much into it. The real focus should be why he interrupted you so harshly with such a bold statement. He’s not wrong, but why does he think you need to talk? “I’ll get a flight out tomorrow.”

That breaks you from your thoughts. A what?  “wait—”

“You still at the same place?”

Swallowing, still very much confused, you answer, “yes, but—”

“I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

The phone goes silent on the other end, and you realize it’s because he’s ended the call. You must stare at that phone for a good five minutes in complete utter shock. Eventually, coming out of the catatonia, only one thought circulates around your mind.

What in the actual fuck just happened? 

[peachsayshi]

heyy idk if you're still doing ex husband nanami etc but here goes nothing!! maybe after the new year's party nanami finally meets the guy she went on a date with?? you're free to write anything on that ♥️

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ A Reason To Celebrate ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni) ↬･tags: ex husband nanami x reader; angst; mostly fluff; nanami has a son; angy nanami; kissing ↬･ wc: 6,740

↬ notes: I was supposed to post this in honor of kento's birthday, but better late than never! here is a highly requested update for you all x there is a bit of a time skip from the last part!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Nanami regrets agreeing to this divorce.

He knows that he shouldn’t have conceded to you so easily. He understands that he shouldn’t have turned his back on you when you confessed that you wanted out of this relationship. He hates that he allowed his pride to get in the way of your true feelings, and is ashamed for cowering into a corner when what he needed to do was fight even harder to keep you by his side. He’s sorry for the terrible words that he threw at you early on, when he placed the blame entirely on you for ruining what was so, so perfect.

When you said “I do” it was because you accepted him wholeheartedly, but he broke his a vow by not leaving his job as he intended the minute that pregnancy strip turned pink.

The trials and tribulations of a jujutsu sorcerer never ends, but nothing he’s ever experienced compares to how hollow he feels.

That’s why he’s been spending every hour dissecting the current status of your relationship. He’s struggling to figure out his balance now that he’s turned his entire world upside down.

All he wants to do is rekindle the flame of what he lost.

“Be honest with me…are you truly happy with how things are between us?”

Your eyes revealed the softest, most vulnerable parts of yourself when he posed that question. He saw how quickly you buried the weight of your emotion into his chest, could see that it was a desperate attempt to hide from confronting the truth.

Months have passed since that night.

Your relationship with your ex-husband is the best it’s ever been - the two of you have finally figured out how to construct your lives in these two separate parts.

You get to have him in doses, and he no longer burdens you with worry.

This arrangement has been working out swimmingly, but Nanami still can’t ignore the feeling that if you could just meet him halfway, then maybe there might actually be a chance for a real reconciliation.

Things took a turn last week when you surprised your ex-husband with a call while he was at work, asking him if he had the time to take Hiroki off your hands for the rest of the afternoon.

“I just need a little bit of time for myself,” you reluctantly blurted, the unusual statement sounding foreign on your lips.

Nanami’s concern wouldn’t stop him from prying. “Is everything alright? Are you feeling unwell?”

“Oh, yes, I’m fine!” you squeaked. “I just…uhm…I just really need the quiet today. I know this is very last minute, and of course I understand if you’re too busy-”

“I’m not busy at all,” he immediately interjected, his heart screaming that he would willingly jump at your every command if you asked. “I’ll just inform Gojo that I’m taking the day off. He won’t have any problems with it…”

Later that evening, while running a quick errand with his son, Nanami saw you stepping out of his favorite bakery.

His heart fluttered in his chest at the sight of you in your summer green dress, the heat already rushing to his cheeks as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

He was already contemplating with an idea on how to swing you out of your alone time to indulge him for a quick bite to eat, but that blissful plan was rudely interrupted by a gentleman who followed your footsteps soon after.

Nanami blinked his brown eyes in disbelief, staring with his mouth slightly apart as you spoke to the man with a level of familiarity that made your ex-husband nauseous. He saw the stranger reach for the tip of your fingers to help assist you with one of the many, many shopping bags in your hands.

The radiant glow blooming from the deepest parts of his chest collapsed in on itself upon seeing your flustered expression from the contact.

Dread overcomes him when he recalls that the last time you had asked him to watch over Hiroki was when you decided to go out on that stupid date.

Nanami had allowed the center of his own feelings to distract him from the current state that his marriage is in. Just because he is willing and ready to reconcile, that didn’t necessarily mean that you felt the same way. He’s just been trying so hard to stop you from pushing him out, and after the recent events that transpired between you both, he actually thought he was making some kind of progress.

You didn’t even seem interested in the guy when you relayed to him how your date went. The little incident that happened at the Gojo’s New Years Eve party suggested that maybe your feelings for Nanami weren’t so far out of his reach. Nanami rarely ever remembers his drinking sessions with Shoko, but what remained perfectly etched in his brain was the question that he boldly asked you - the one that continued to haunt him as the weeks passed by, and which he prayed that he would eventually get an answer to.

Did he misread the signs?

He wondered if you thought his question was simply the ramblings of a disoriented drunk, even though it was the most honest he’s been about his feelings in a while.

The longer he stood there watching you with this other man, the more he could feel his heart shattering.

His logic contradicted his apprehension with a gentle reminder of the words that you shared with him - of how your intimate and close relationship with him will always mean something to you…

He hesitated approaching you both at first, but you are still his family after all and he wasn’t about to pretend like couldn’t visibly see what was playing out before him.

If you were, in fact, seeing somebody else…then the man had every right to know about it.

Anger and betrayal guided him towards you and he greeted you with a cold and polite, “hello”.

Despite his stoic expression, he was barely holding it together watching your eyes widen in a state of shock. He instantly knew that he was the last person you were expecting to run into.

“K-Ken!” you gasped, flickering your pretty irises between your ex-husband and the man beside you. “uh-what…what are you doing here?”

Nanami’s eyes never left yours; he’s studied every reaction out of you like they were written out as sacred texts. He memorized the tempos of your breath, counted the blinks, and interpreted the many ways in which your lips could speak without ever making a sound.

“I ran out of bread. So, I decided to take Hiroki for a little walk and pick some up,” he replied before shifting his sharp and scrutinizing gaze towards the man.

The gentleman seemed equally as taken aback by Nanami, and your ex-husband could see an uneasiness washing over him.

“Hello,” he firmly greeted, introducing himself without any consideration over the thick tension that suddenly manifested. “I don’t believe we’ve met…”

The man parted his lips to speak but you were quick to cut off his answer, your suspicious behavior only fueling Nanami's anxiety.

“This is Matsuda-san! Matsuda, this is Kento Nanami…he’s my…uhm,” you fumble but quickly recollect yourself to avoid anymore awkwardness, “he’s Hiroki’s father…”

That nearly split the sorcerer in half.

You took a second to catch your breath, unreasonably winded from the explanation alone.

“Ken, Matsuda-san is an acquaintance of mine. We actually had dinner a while back…I think you might remember me telling you about it?”

Nanami’s face turned to stone, hardening every muscle to stop himself from reacting.

Of course he remembers, he grumbles to himself, just like how he can still feel you on the tips of his fingers when his hand was between your legs while you were telling him all about it…

So, this is the guy, he acknowledged, a slight tremor shaking down his spine.

“Yes that’s right,” Matsuda confirmed with giddy amusement, but it only made Nanami want to knock the teeth out of that smug grin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nanami-san....”

“You as well” Nanami responded bitterly but tried his best to remain cordial. He quickly averted his attention away from the man and back to your skittish self.

“Are you heading back to your place? I’ll gladly walk you home…”

“Actually…” Matsuda interrupted, and the cold stare Nanami shot at him was enough to shut him up before he could even pose any kind of bold suggestions.

“Well, you see…” you stammered nervously, “I’m actually not heading home just yet. I…uh, wanted to stop by this new boutique shop that just opened! You know, the one where I got my body wash from? They apparently have a great sale going on, and I really don’t want to miss it…”

“If I’m not mistaken, isn’t that shop just around the corner from your place?” Nanami pressed, slightly annoyed over the fact that this guy has not taken the hint and scampered off somewhere else.

“Oh, yeah…it is,” you wince unsuccessfully , “but the things is, I don’t know how long I’m going to be, and…uh…”

He can see you panicking, notice the way you were crafting a brand new story out of thin air to play it off as the truth.

He couldn’t hide the hurt on his face which softened at your desperate attempt.

You’ve always been such a terrible later.

“The thing is,” you carry on , “I actually made plans to meet with my co-worker…and, and… Matsuda-san is joining us as well! But…But, I’ll call you once I’m done to pick up Hiroki, okay?”

He hated how formally you sounded when speaking to him, like he was just another friend and not the man who was your former husband, not the man who you shared your body with or confessed your unconditional love to.

“Of course,” he conceded with resent, “I guess I’ll see you later this evening…”

He turned on his heel and walked in the other direction, refusing to look back to where his broken heart had remain fragmented.

When you picked up Hiroki that evening, Nanami couldn’t help but remain frigid towards you. He didn’t extend the usual invitation of welcoming you to his home, nor did he care to engage in any small conversation.

He was tired of having you drag him around with absolutely no consideration of his feelings.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

On any other day, Nanami would have the patience to deal with his superior’s animated personality. He closes his tired eyes for just a second in an attempt to tune out Gojo’s boisterous tone, and reluctantly releases a long, drawn out sigh.

“Nanamin,” Gojo lectures, “don’t frown on your birthday or you’ll be miserable until the next one…”

The blonde felt his eye twitch, noted the sudden tension pinching in the space where his brows furrowed together and he quickly glances over his shoulder to see the flash of a pearly, white grin looking right at him.

He can’t help but grimace.

Gojo raises his eyebrow, taken aback by the disdain on his subordinates face. “What? Are you really that upset because we decided to do something nice for you?”

Despite their best efforts to keep it all a secret, Nanami knew that Gojo and his band of students were planning out something special for his birthday.

Itadori wouldn’t stop pestering him with questions over what kind of gifts he likes, and what his favorite treats are. He would run off in secret with the other students and nearly flew across the room whenever Nanami caught him alone with Gojo.

For Itadori’s sake, Nanami attempted to display a level of surprise when he walked into the break room earlier today and was welcomed by a small party which everyone had pitched in to put together for him.

“I-…no…that’s not it…” He replies to Gojo’s initial question with a somber tone. Dropping his shoulders in defeat, he continues to carefully pack the array of gifts that have been left for him. “Although I find it quite unnecessary, I am very grateful for this, for what you all did…”

“How unfortunate for you to be so loved and cared for…” Gojo sassily remarks with a click of his tongue.

“Let’s not ruin a good thing, shall we? That’s probably the nicest compliment you’ll ever receive from me”

His superior laughs, “I’m sure I can drag another one out of you”

The echo of Gojo’s boot surrounds the room as he slowly approaches Nanami to stand by his side. “Seriously though,” he presses as he slides his hands deep into his pockets, “anything you want to share with me?”

“Not particularly,” Nanami huffs as he places the last gift into the paper bag.

“Not that it’s news, but you’ve had a particularly displeased scowl resting on your face for over a week…”

The blonde pauses what he’s doing to exhale with frustration, and it only prompts Gojo to quirk a curious brow.

Nothing Nanami could say would make him feel better about the fact that he saw his ex-wife with another man. Nothing will ease the wariness in his chest that you two have barely spoken to one another since that god awful encounter, and the one thing that Nanami least expected to happen on his birthday was for you to forget to call or text him a wish.

Instead, he swallows the hurt that lumps in his throat and glosses over Gojo’s concern over him.

“Nothing’s wrong”

He glances at his wrist to check the time. The festivities of the afternoon has him running late, which means that he’ll have to rush home and get ready quickly to make it in time to your place.

He picks up the two paper bags laying out on the table, “I have to go. I have to pick up Hiroki…”

His superior pouts his lip while complacently nodding his head, and taking into account the sudden sensitivity around the subject. His knowing eyes hidden behind his blindfold can tell that Nanami was avoiding the discussion entirely, but the blonde refused to stay behind and give Gojo anymore ammunition for him to pry even further.

But before he walked out the door, he could hear Satoru yelling from the back room.

"Cheer up, Nanamin! You never know if the day will take an unexpected turn!"

As he made his way out onto the grounds of Jujutsu Tech, Nanami considers that there is always a reason to celebrate one’s birthday, but for whatever reason, none of them seemed good enough for him this year.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

On his way home from work, Nanami tries to show gratitude to the small pockets of joy in his day.

He begrudgingly sent Gojo a follow up text to thank him for what he put together with the students after feeling a tad bit guilty about his rude responses earlier.

He was soon met with a bombardment of annoying pictures and I love you posts from his superior, to which he immediately muted the chat to in order to stop getting harassed with endless notifications.

He can feel the exhaustion settling in by the time he arrives to his place, slowly turning the key to his front door. Carefully taking off his shoes, he neatly places them on his shelf by the entrance before dragging his tired heels down the hallway.

He can’t stop thinking about the way the students showered him with such affection, and it is a conscious reminder of why he continues pursuing being a jujutsu sorcerer.

He cares for every one of them deeply, and would never allow the archaic practices of the society to strip them of their golden hearts and pure minds.

Things have to be different with them.

He places the paper bags filled with gifts on the floor, thinking that he’ll get around to opening them sometime tomorrow, then proceeds to loosen the tie around his neck. He steps out into the open space of his apartment, only to find himself walking into a sea of golden strings that were tied to round, blue balloons.

Nanami freezes.

You’re in the middle of his living room, wearing a pair of denim jeans and an embroidered white top that he specifically remembers buying for you while you were both dating.

You’re holding his son in your arms, the two of you beaming a very similar smile, and wearing an obnoxious pair of frilly party hats.

“Wha-”

Hiroki interrupts him by blowing into the party horn, the silly noise making him giggle as he repeats the action for a second time.

“Surprise!” you bounce with a little excitement, and Hiroki mimics your phrase as he attempts to speak out this new word.

Your ex-husband stares at you in shock.

He’s still absorbing all the elements around him, taking in the new details of the colorful, piped cake resting on the dining table, along with a full spread of dinner when the aromatics finally envelop his senses while also recognizing that there is music playing as low, mellow beats surround the room.

“We got your daddy good,” you adorably whisper into Hiroki’s ear, and Nanami swears that he can feel his heart beat for the first time in a week.

“What…” he rasps, snapping himself out of the disorientation and breaking the silence. “What are you doing here? How…How did you even get in?”

“I used the spare key you gave me…” you explain.

“But you’ve never used the spare key…” he argues back courteously.

You step closer towards him, and Hiroki immediately extends his chubby arms out to his father while dropping his party horn in the process.

Brown eyes stay watching you as Nanami reaches for his son, he secures him in one arm while the other searches for your waist to stop you from crouching down to pick up the insignificant object.

He squeezes you affectionately, begging for answers.

“I know, but today is different…It’s your birthday, Kento!”

“But…”

“But, what?” you question with a raised brow, your eyes glancing away for only a minute to look at how Hiroki mirrors his father. “Did you really think we weren’t going to celebrate this together?”

He slips his arm around your waist, resting his large palm flat against your the small of your back.

“I just thought that…I just thought that you were busy. I haven’t really heard from you this week…”

His voice is small, cautionary almost, like he’s too afraid to let his woes slip out.

You giggle sheepishly, and it sends goosebumps to run all over his skin.

“Well, I’ve been running around planning out a little something for somebody special,” you admit with a sly smile, “plus, I’ve also been helping out Yuji and Gojo with their secret surprise for you…”

Nanami can’t help but crack a smile, sensing the frustration of his stress dispersing.

“Don’t tell me that was your idea too?”

“Not necessarily, but I offered to help them out after Gojo called me. Besides, Yuji was struggling with ideas because he couldn’t swing any decent answers out of you…”

His fingers lightly tense around the fabric of your top, scrunching the material just a bit. “You knew about it but you weren’t there today,” he points out.

Your heart shivers from the innocent contact, but you hold your unwavering grin before replying, “I was thinking of stopping by at first, but I told Gojo that I would rather do something more cozy. I thought-I thought you might have appreciate if it was just the three of us celebrating together…”

Nanami smiles and it brightens his whole face. His eyes gleam with pure, unfiltered joy and he tenderly tugs you closer into his frame as he pulls you in for a much needed hug.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” he murmurs into your hair.

He keeps you there, the stillness only disturbed by Hiroki’s slightly fidgety state. He strokes his thumb up and down against your back, and rests his chin on your temple as he allows you to meld into the contortions of his frame when you return his embrace.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Nanami was the one who always cooked.

In a way, your former husband spoiled you from ever wanting to go back into the kitchen by yourself because he always put together the most delectable meals.

Tonight, you decided to take on that role.

Gojo managed to keep Nanami distracted enough with their own party which gave you enough time to put together the spread of dinner. You sliced up fresh bread that you picked up from his favorite bakery, prepared homemade garlic oil which you used to cook down pieces of steak, and assembled a hearty salad.

The look of appreciation on Nanami’s face was more than enough to make you happy.

Content and stuffed with delicious food, you can’t help but admire him as he holds Hiroki’s cheek. The comparison of their size shows you how much time has already passed. Your son was no longer a tiny bundle with a pink nose wrapped up in a little blanket, he was growing into a whole new form of cuteness. He laughs with comprehension, and looks at you and Nanami with a recognition that reassures his safety.

“Da da da da…” he sings mindlessly, and Nanami chuckles as he swipes his thumb over Hiroki’s cheek to pick up a streak of pink buttercream.

“He’s covered in frosting,”

Your eyes immediately drop to your ex-husband’s lips, and you can’t help but tuck the bottom of your mouth between your teeth as you watch him suck off the frosting from the pad of his finger.

Your stomach coils, a tight band forming deep in your core, it’s so easy for you to get wound up whenever you’re around him, but lately that feeling has been much harder to fight off.

You sink your fork into your half-eaten piece of cake, picking up a tiny amount of vanilla sponge and moving it closer to your son. “Hiroki, you want another bite?” you ask, but you watch as he scrunches his nose in disdain.

His big, curious eyes catch the pretty color bordering the sponge, and he mindlessly reaches his fingers onto the plate to grab a fistful of cream.

“Ah! Hiroki!” you laugh playfully, as you pull the plate away and place it down onto the coffee table, denying him a second chance to do the same thing with his other hand.

“We should probably get him cleaned up…”

He’s already devouring the buttercream, and a deep, rumbling laughter erupts from right next to you.

“He’s fine,” Nanami shrugs off, lightly pushing his son’s blonde locks away from his face.

“Yeah, but I don’t want these sticky fingers getting all over your presents…” you insist.

You stand up from your seat and reach your arms out to grab Hiroki, but to your surprise Nanami simply gets up from the couch as well.

“Alright, my darling, you heard your mother…let’s get you cleaned up…”

He follows you into the kitchen. You immediately turn on the faucet to the sink, checking to make sure that the temperature is neither too hot or cold. Nanami leans forward, keeping his thumb and index finger around Hiroki’s wrist and directing it towards the water.

He rinses off the mess while you look around for some hand towels, to which your husband informs you that there are some extra ones folded in the bottom drawer.

You reach down to grab them, but by the time you return upright you see that your son has already found another way to dry off his wet little hands. He’s smoothing it all over Nanami’s blue shirt, leaving damp patches across his chest.

“Mama!” Hiroki calls out, turning his body within Nanami’s grasp to reach for you.

You press your mouth together as you look at your former lover with sympathy, but he nonchalantly just shrugs his shoulders.

“I guess he’s done with me now that he’s dried himself off”

You place the hand towel back on the counter, and carry your son in your arms. He flashes you the most angelic expression in the world, a look of such innocence that makes it impossible for you to hide your smile. You press you forehead against his own, and leave a peck on the button of his nose.

“Ready to give your daddy his present?”

Nanami leans his hip against the counter, keeping only a short distance of space between you both. You don’t have to face him to know that that he’s looking at you both with eyes dipped in pure devotion because you can feel the sheer intensity of his gaze from standing right where you are.

“Dinner, cake, and now presents? I’m truly a spoiled man today…”

You gaze at him from underneath your lashes, aware that you’re allowing your heart to speak on your behalf before replying, “you deserve to be spoiled, Ken”

He takes another step closer, narrowing the gap, and your entire body tenses up. You breathe in the faint scent of his lingering cologne, a fragrance of smoked wood and spicy herbs, and for whatever reason you can’t stop thinking about pressing yourself into the source.

“Alright,” he teases with flirtatious grin, “spoil me.”

The three of you are soon back on the couch, with Hiroki seated comfortably on your lap.“The first present is from Hiroki,” you announce as you pass the gift towards your husband, “he even wrapped it up himself.”

“I can see that,” Nanami acknowledges and starts to peel away at the messily folded paper to reveal the what is underneath.

The ceramic plate is hand painted. In the middle was the palm print of Hiroki’s right hand, and the detailing consisted of uneven brushstrokes in various colors. You spent a whole hour with your son to guide him with the design, practicing the motion of how to paint over and over again. Nanami smoothed his finger over his son’s imprint, focusing specifically on the letters right in the center which read: “I love you”.

“My, my, Hiroki…” he beams with pride, but his ears were turning pink knowing whose true hand wrote those words. “I didn’t know you had such artistic talents…”

His son smiles despite not quite comprehending his father’s sentiment. Nanami leans down to kiss his cheek, before leaving a second on the top of his head.

You don’t know why you’re so nervous to give him your gift but your hands tremble slightly as you pick it up, and a spark of electricity bolts up your left arm when he deliberately brushes his fingers on yours as he takes it from your hand.

“I know you have a whole stockpile of gifts to go through, but this is another that you can add to the list. You don’t have to open it now, you can save it for later if you like-”

Nanami unravels the tiny ribbon wrapped in the center, “it’s okay, I don’t mind opening it now.”

Your hands clasp themselves around Hiroki’s belly, and you bite the inside of your cheek as you keep your eyes focused on his face in anticipation of his reaction.

Nanami holds the vinyl record in his hand, his brows lifting almost instantly.

“You always mentioned how much you loved collecting cds when you were in teenager, and that you wanted to invest in having your own record collection one day. So, I thought this might be a good place to start! I remembered you saying that this band in particular was your favorite, so I wanted to make sure to get one by them…”

“This,” he interjects quietly, “This is a very rare vinyl…it’s not easy to get your hands on an original…”

Your cheeks grow hot, “yeah, well, it took me a while to find it but the search was worth it!”

“This is very sweet of you…”

Your mouth stretches from ear to ear, your cheeks pinching with delight. “I’m so happy you like it, Ken!”

When he looks at you this time, you’re completely captivated by the warm tones of his eyes and slight dilation of his pupils. His attention dips to your parted lips, before returning back to meet your heated stare.

He places the vinyl carefully onto the counter.

“I love the present,” he confesses, “I loved the cake, the dinner, having you both here…everything was…perfect.”

“Good, good,” you nod with approval, all the while trying to ignore your throat suddenly feeling tight. “You know, when I ran into you last week, I was genuinely worried that I might have given it all away…”

“Right, when you introduced me to Matsuda…”

His face grows sullen, and you’re caught off guard by his sudden indignation. Just as he found a moment to get a closer, Nanami decides in these fleeting seconds to pull himself away. He clears his throat as he shifts down, “thank you so much for the gifts,” he repeats with a stiff tone, “I think I’ll just get a head start with cleaning up…”

You look at him peculiarly, unsure of what triggered your handsome ex to shut down so suddenly around you.

“Don’t worry about cleaning up, I can do that-”

“I don’t want to keep you,” he harshly remarks, but the way he cuts off you makes you crinkle your eyes in frustration.

“Wait a minute,” you shoots your hand out to grab the sleeve of his shirt. “I’m not-I’m not in a rush to leave or anything…”

Nanami shrugs off your touch and it feels like a slap to the wrist.

"It's alright," he adds, "I don't want to intrude on you if you have other plans..."

Confusion gets the best of you, you can't seem to figure out what exactly set him off so quickly. You know this man well enough that you can tell that he's visibly upset, except he's doing everything in his power to hide it from you.

He picks up the plates on the coffee table before proceeding to head towards the kitchen.

You glance down at Hiroki for some level of consolation, but your son just looks back up at you with equal uncertainty.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You settle Hiroki onto his play mat before making your way over to a very disgruntled Nanami. Your brain replays the last five minutes to decipher what it was you said that set him off, and you slide your hands into the back pocket of your jeans as you hesitantly approach him in the kitchen.

He's placing dishes into the sink, the warm light illuminating his face and highlighting the tips of his sharp cheekbones. You can see the twinge in his jaw, notice the tight knot of tension resting between his brows as he keeps his lips pressed into a firm line.

"Ken?" you speak softly, a wary smile forming on your lips. "What's wrong?"

He stops what he's doing, his hands reaching the edge of the counter and he squeezes the surface until his knuckles turn white. He's still trying to keep a level ahead, drawing out another exhale until he finally motivates himself to face you.

His eyes darken and your body shivers.

"Is this supposed to be test?"

"Test?"

"You need more proof to see how far I'll go just to make you happy?"

"What proof? I don't even know what you're talking about-"

He shakes his head in disbelief, standing upright before taking two long strides to close the gap of space so he's looking down right at you.

"We're just going to sit here and pretend like I didn't interrupt you on a date with your dear friend, Matsuda-san..."

"Date?!" you blurt in shock, taking in your ex lovers odd accusation with full surprise. "Kento-"

He folds his arms over his broad chest as he shifts his weight from one foot to the next.

"Look, I get it. We aren't together anymore, but you're still...very, very Important to me. I regard you so highly..."

"As do I-"

"I haven't asked anything of you in all this, not a single thing. I've said yes to whatever it is you have asked me. I did that all for your sake, not mine. The least I expected was some decency in return, and for you to be honest with me when you decided to jump into another relationship..."

"Kento!" you call out, reaching your hands up to his cheeks to stop him from rambling on any further.

The act renders him silent.

"I'm not...I'm not dating Matsuda," you state with a slight laugh like it's the most comical idea to cross your mind. "As a matter of fact, I'm not seeing anyone right now...I...I haven't even considered the idea...."

"But last week..." he insists with a panic that makes your chest ache.

You drop your hands to his shoulders to give him a reassuring squeeze.

"Kento, I asked you to watch over Hiroki because I was trying to sort this out," you clarify, glancing your eyes towards the party decorations and the entire set up that you had worked so hard to put together. "You never go to the bakery on a Wednesday, so I thought it would the perfect time to reserve all the stuff that I needed. I ran into Matsuda while I was there. The last time I saw him was when we...when I agreed to have dinner with him..."

Nanami breathes in softly, steadying himself as he hangs on attentively to every word that you have to say.

"Matsuda couldn't take the hint that I wasn't interested. I was about to decline his offer of walking me home when you showed up, and I...I really didn't expect to run into you. I overreacted because I was worried that you might catch onto my little plan. I just came up with a random excuse to lead you off the trail. I didn't..."

You sigh with remorse, shifting to look up at your ex from underneath your lashes as you finally piece together the source of his contention.

"I didn't even realize how that must have looked to you. I'm so sorry, Kento. I would never do anything to hurt you like that. Ever. You're too...you're too important me...and all I was thinking about...all I wanted to do was to make your birthday special for you. I really wasn't giving Matsuda any consideration..."

A wave of relief washes over him, all the while you can't stop thinking about how cute he looks all flustered.

"Shit," he murmurs, bringing two fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose as his cheeks turn a subtle shade of pink. "I feel like an idiot..."

You purse your lips into another small grin, "you're not an idiot, it's just a misunderstanding..."

He stays silent for a moment, returning his sights back on you as he nips at his bottom lip.

"I'm...I'm never going to be okay with it..." he boldly admits, his voice dropping another octave as two hands settle against your sides. "I'll tolerate everything else between us, but I'll never be okay watching you move on with somebody else..."

His words make your heart shrivel like a piece of fruit bathing underneath the golden sun. Heat rushes to your cheeks as the band in your belly twists into another knot.

When you part your lips to say something, no words come out.

"Are you really that shocked?" he questions, clenching his hands around the waistband of your jeans. "Put yourself in my shoes, how would you feel if you saw me with someone else?"

You feel a catch in your throat. You don't want to admit how often you've thought about it, considered what he does in his spare time when you and Hiroki weren't in the picture. Whenever your mind spirals with the idea that he was with another woman, it would bring tears to your eyes every. single. time.

"I don't even like thinking about it," you disclose, your voice cracking slightly as your throat goes dry.

"I guess," he whispers, tugging you forward so that you were both now chest to chest, "we can at least agree on one thing..."

Your hands trail to his pecs, your eyes growing heavy as you feel the weight of his forehead press tenderly onto yours. His fingers find your chin, the featherlight touch tilting it only slightly upward so your lips can brush over his.

He doesn't stop himself this time, doesn't consider the laundry list of reasons as to why this will only complicate things further. He's tired of this divorce, tired of not having you around, so fucking tired of not kissing you whenever his heart desires-

So, he presses his mouth delicately down onto yours and throws caution to the wind.

Your knees buckle, your fingers tightening around the fabric of his shirt as your eyes fall close like you've been cast under a spell. A surge of adrenaline rushes through your veins, making your body buzz from the tip of your fingers down to your toes. You can feel Nanami's heart race from beneath your palm just as he parts his lips to invite you to taste him even further and you can't help but sing sweetly into the kiss as you allow your tongue to slip through.

"hmph, Ken," you mumble, attempting to draw your spit slicked lips away but the man simply captures you back with ease.

He can hear the resistance in your voice, but there was no way he was letting you go that easily again.

"Stay the night," he requests with a gentle snag of your bottom lip.

Your shaky arms circle around his neck, your body melting into him as he daringly draws his hand from your lower back to dive straight into the back pocket of your jeans.

With a kiss to the corner of your mouth he follows up his demand with a loving "please?"

"I don't know...mmph," you sigh, but in between Nanami interrupts you with another peck.

"I don't know..." you repeat again under your breath, only this time you find yourself searching for his mouth.

The exchange carries on, light smacks and tender licks distracting you both and Nanami drops his other hand to circle around your throat.

The blood rushes between his legs feeling the vibrating flutter of your pulse beneath his fingers.

"Hiroki's staying" he insists as he nuzzles the tip of his nose over yours. "We'll have some more cake, get him ready for bed, and then you and I..."

Your fingers thread between the strands of his blonde hair, your neck falling to the side as he travels to the spot that makes you go weak.

"can keep talking."

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

regarding ex husband nanami requests - requests for this series are still open, I feel like I'm building the story with you guys so I'll keep it that way until it's complete. please note that not all requests will be fulfilled - I do get some that are quite similar so I'm selecting based off of how the story progresses xo

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let know if you would liked to be tagged! x

@hisheadismountfuji @clara-geekhime @moonmalice @bibemiiu @nutheadgeenat @satoruhour @i-be-teff

[the-dawn-star]

Hii!! Can you do Jane x reader where she’s Jane’s mate but still human. One day some important information gets leaked out and everyone in the volturi thinks the reader leaked the info. (Aro can’t read her mind) So they question her for a long time and when she still says that she didn’t do it they make Jane torture her with her power. As Jane is torturing her someone walks in and says that she didn’t do it. By the time Jane stops the reader is passed out. Everyone and mostly Jane regrets what they’ve done. The reader doesn’t wake up for a few days and Jane is in absolute sorrow. And when she finally wakes up she doesn’t even look Jane in the eyes bc of the betrayal she feels. Just a lot of angst yk:))) Buuut they make up in the end. Thank youuu🫶🏻

A/N: Hi and first of all love this idea. I kind of made this longer than intended and I left it guite open ended but I hope you like it and you don't mind I changed it a bit. Once again Jane is the movie version of the character!!!

-S

+800ish words.

CW: I mean Jane tortures Reader. Heavy angst.

Your relationship had been a struggle for a long time. You were still a human and now you were moved to Volterra to live with the vampire royalty. It was all so much, but so was your blossoming love for Jane. Your dear Jane. Jane whose main priority in life was protecting the kings and working. It was all that she had ever known, and you couldn’t even blame her for that. But Jane had started to open up to you as time went on. She talked to you about the most mundane things in her life but in truth you could have listened to her for hours.  

Aro hadn’t loved the idea of Jane finding her mate. He was so protective of the girl that he had found hundreds of years ago. And you didn’t make this protectiveness any easier. Quickly Aro had found out that his powers didn’t work on you. Reason for this wasn’t clear but after a bit of convincing Aro accepted you to move to Volterra to get to know Jane better.  

“My love...” Jane had the voice of an angel and that was the only thing that could wake you up from your sleep without making you pissed off.  

You let out a non-committal groan and opened your eyes.  

“I’m sorry but I need to go to work. There has been a problem...” Jane being evasive made you sit up in worry.  

“What’s wrong?”  

“I can’t talk about it yet, just stay here until I get back, okay?”  

You didn’t have time to answer until your mate had left the room leaving you alone on the cold bed.  

With a bit of hesitation, you laid back down and slowly fell back asleep.  

~~~ 

You woke up with your room door being slammed open. Two guards that you didn’t know walked in and didn’t give you any time before ripping you from the bed and dragged you out of the room.  

You begged for some sort of explanation. Anything that made you understand why you were being dragged to the lower levels of the castle... The levels where you weren’t allowed to go. The levels where Jane had to work sometimes, leaving her exhausted as a vampire can be.  

You were thrown into a small simple room, with a tiny table, chair and a bed, if you could call a mattress with a pillow a bed.  

It was a while before you saw anyone but when you finally saw a person you didn’t assume it would be Jane. Your dear Jane.  

“Jane! My love! What’s going on?!” You asked, hurrying to the door trying to reach your love.  

“Don’t..., I know what you did.”  

The love that you had come so used to was gone from her eyes. Her eyes were pooling with venom and her eyes were dark and sad.  

“What are you talking about?” You asked while feeling the anxiety rising up to the surface.  

“Don’t play dumb! You were the only one I told about the plans! Aro was read everyone's minds already! It has to be you so just admit it please!” 

Jane’s yells bounced off the walls and for the first time looking at her you didn’t see your love. You saw a terrified and angry young woman, who could case you more pain than you could ever imagine. Was this what most people saw when looking at your mate? Danger? Pain?  

“Are you talking about the Romanians? Is this all about that!”  

Jane had told you about Aro’s plan to kill the rest of the Romanian coven, but all the details she had told you were now erased from your mind by time.  

“Yes, it is, so just confess!” Your normally calm Jane, she was panicking.  

You didn’t have anything left to say. You were confused, scared, angry..., alone. Your only ally in the castle, your dear Jane, had left you.  

“Okay..., if that’s what you want...,” Jane’s words were ominous, and your stress level rose to the roof.  

Then the pain started. The pain that Jane had promised you would never feel. The blinding, fiery pain. You couldn’t feel your body anymore, it was just pain. Until it all went away... 

~~~ 

You finally opened your eyes. You woke up back in your bed and for a second it all seemed like a bad dream. You took a deep breath letting yourself sink into the mattress. But your peace was interrupted when you took a look around the room. 

Jane was curled into a corner of the room, eyes glued to you. Her sad eyes. Her black eyes pooled with venom.  

You couldn’t look at her, not right now at least, so you got up from the terribly comfortable bed and walked straight to the bathroom locking it behind you.  

You looked like death. Tired and angry, but you couldn’t do anything about that just yet.  

“I’m really sorry..., you have to believe me, my love. We really thought that it was you...” Jane’s words behind the door didn’t make you feel any better. And to make sure you didn’t lash out you stayed quiet. You had all the right to be quiet after screaming your throat raw.

~~~

Feel like you want to support me via Kofi? No preasure tho!

[briskii]

Senior's Discount

a/n: ty to my boyfriend who demanded i credit him for the title <3

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word count: 1.6k

requests are open :3 first time writing something of this caliber, hope you enjoy sluts 💖‼️

warnings: size kink, degradation, nsfw, age gap (reader is like 20ish, Toji is mid 30's), dacryphilia, mentions of being recorded

synopsis: Toji rizzes up (afab!) reader cuz he's too fucking poor one night to buy something at the convenience store (aka Toji being a slut)

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He was a regular. There'd be nights where you worked alone and he'd come in, usually grumbling to himself as he shopped around. He never got much; usually just cheap onigiri and the occasional pack of cigarettes. Everytime you'd hand him his change or whatever it was that he was getting, it'd be the same venomously saccharine tone, with the same endearing petname.

"Thanks, dollface."

And he'd always flash that charming smile with a wink, stuffing his items in his pockets and turning a heel to walk out of the store. He always carried himself confidently; his presence demanding and his aura loud. It didn't intimidate you, however. It's not like the guy ever did anything to you.

"Ah, shit," he cursed under his breath. His eyes flicked from his wallet, to his onigiri, and finally down to your big, doe eyes.

"I, uh," he started. "I'm a bit short." The man chuckled quietly, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. Despite this, he still wore a charming grin. "Think y'can make an exception and just give me a discount?"

You laughed quietly, eying the man up and down out of the corner of your eye as you rang in his food.

He was huge.

You knew what he was referring to, but the irony of this buff-6-foot-something size man saying the phrase 'i'm short' was just too funny.

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes once again. "Well, how much of a discount would it be?" You ask, genuinely intending to let him off easy. He laughed dryly, and outstretched his hand to reveal an astounding 45 cents. Your face fell, and you shook your head. "I'm sorry sir, but this is a specialty onigiri. That's atleast 5 or 6 dollars..." The raven haired man scoffed and rolled his eyes. You figured he was used to abusing his pretty privilege, and he probably got pretty far with it sometimes.

He shoved the change back in his pocket, and sighed. You watched as his expression went from one of minor frustration, to one of mischief as he began to speak again.

"I'll make it worth your while." He cooed slyly, his long eyelashes fluttering against his face as his demeanor changed completely. Your face warmed up as your eyes widened, not expecting him to come off so strong. He had flirted with you before, but never like this. "I..."

"Come on, dollface," he continued, not sparing a second to let you think. "You won't have to lift a finger."

Sure, you weren't a virgin. Hell, you'd been with your fair share of men. But there was something so captivating about how brazen this regular was that you couldn't help the way your thighs clenched together at his intense stare. And of course he noticed.

He always noticed the way your eyes would light up when he would walk through the door, and how cutely your lips would form a pout when he teased you. He could always feel your eyes on his muscular back when he would browse the store, so he always made sure to take just a little longer than he normally would. The way you would unknowingly make goo-goo eyes at him was the reason he even frequented that specific store in the first place.

"Such a sweet little thing you are," He teased, cocking his head to the side as he leaned over, making himself tower over you intentionally. "I'm sure the noises that would come out of you would sound even sweeter, though."

"Wow," You turned your head away from him, chuckling genuinely. This guy was unbelievable. Sure, maybe you've checked him out a few dozen times. And sure, maybe you've thought about fucking him in the staff bathroom once or twice. But to have him be so unabashedly direct with you, it ignited a familliar fire within you.

"And I thought I was a whore," You laughed trying to match the man's energy. Although, it didn't roll off the tongue quite as sweetly as you wanted it to. It couldn't have; not with the way this man was looking at you.

In the blink of an eye, the customer was behind you somehow, gripping your neck with one hand as he pressed himself against you, grinding into your ass and grabbing your hip roughly with his other. "How did you-"

"Sweetheart," he cut you off, mumbling behind you as his chest pressed up against your back, his huge body forcing you against the counter. "I'm much older than you. You should treat me with respect." He mused, chuckling lowly as he licked your ear. You whined quietly as you pushed your hips into his, finding it difficult to think or even let alone respond when he was flooding your senses so intensely like that.

"You're too innocent to be using words like that." He chided teasingly, as his hand shifted down to the zipper on your pants. His words were ironic to hear, as the moans and whines coming from your mouth have been anything but innocent.

"I'm...mmm, fuck, 'm not innocent- ah!" You couldn't even finish your sentence before the hand on your throat was replaced by the man's mouth, sucking and biting to leave as many marks as possible. He smiled against your neck as you moaned louder than you had been already, feeling the curve of your ass push against his strained pants. He chuckled at your pathetic attempt to quip back and stood up straight, pulling you against his chest.

"Open." He demanded, as his left hand snaked up your shirt to twist and pull at your nipples. "Wh-" you started, before he shoved his index and middle finger down your throat without warning. You gagged, but quickly adjusted your breathing. Your pleading eyes met his predatory ones, wanting more.

"Good girl," He smiled, that same look of mischief from earlier glinting in his eyes once again."You'd let me fuck 'yer throat, wouldn't ya? Seems like you'd be real good at it." You whined loudly, nodding quickly. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, and you moaned. "Please, 'wanna suck you off in the bathroom. Wanna feel you cum down my throat, sir." He groaned, cursing under his breath.

"Toji." The man simply stated. "You'll let that camera over there-" -he withdrew his hand from your shirt to point at the camera in front of you guys- "-know who I am, won't you, dollface?"

"Toji!" You moaned out immediately as he began grinding against you. He smiled at your willingness to obey him, a complete stranger. "Please." You mewled, wanting him to help soothe the ache in your core. "Just wanna go to the bathroom. I want to feel you."

Toji had hit the jackpot. You were a young, pretty thing and he already had you wrapped around his finger; at the very least, you were 10 to 12 years his junior. "Older men like me ruin eager girls like you," he growled, completely ignoring your bathroom comment. He knew he'd just come back once you had closed down the store to steal the CCTV footage, and if anyone decided to wander in, well.

They'd be getting a show.

"Need to hear you," He bit your neck, causing you to moan out loudly. Toji was really hoping the cameras were expensive enough to have microphones, because the noises you were making were fucking unbelievable.

"Fuck, pretty girl, you sound so good f'me." The older man continued lapping at the sweet spot on your neck, fully intending to mark you up for everyone to see.

Toji hastily shoved his large hand down your already unbuckled and unzipped pants, fingers plunging into your warm cunt. You were already so wet, just like he knew you were going to be.

You were practically panting like a dog with how desperate you were.

"Atta girl, just like that." He watched you intently as you fucked yourself on his hand. He couldn't help but encourage you sweetly; he wanted, no, needed to see you unravel in front of him, and you happily obliged, bouncing against his fingers at a rhythmic pace.

Already, you were close. It's not like you could help it; Toji was filling you up wonderfully, and the way he was whispering sweet nothings in your ear had you hurling towards your orgasm fast.

"Fuck, princess," He mumbled into your neck, watching you use his thick digits with lidded eyes. You moaned his name and clenched around his fingers at the new petname, causing him to stop entirely. "You fuckin' minx, you're drivin' me crazy with 'yer noises," he growled, bending you over the counter harshly. He tugged your pants down in one swift, fluid motion.

"Need to taste you, doll." Was all he said, before you felt his tongue thrust into your now sopping cunt. You grabbed at the edge of the counter and gasped, feeling the air completely leave your lungs. He was eating you out like a starved man, and his rough, calloused fingers were prodding at your clit. You felt like you were going to pass out.

"Toji, Toji, baby- 'm gunna cum. Please-"

You stiffened, as you felt Toji's hands and tongue leave your body. "No, no no no-!" You cried out, clenching around nothing and pushing your ass against open air. Toji's chest rumbled with a deep, mean laugh as he stood you up and turned you around to face him. You looked up at him with tears in your eyes at the loss of your orgasm, and Toji pouted mockingly. "Aw, what? My pretty baby's all hot and bothered 'cuz she didn't get to cum?" He clicked his tongue disapprovingly, with his hands on his hips. You pouted, tears now threatening to spill out.

"Such a crybaby," he sighed, pulling up your pants for you. "That's what you get for being a bratty, desperate whore." He smiled as he dried your eyes with his shirt, thinking about how much more he wants to see you cry. "You're so mean," you sniffed, readjusting your pants. "I was being good."

"Not good enough," Toji laughed as he walked back around the counter, snatching his onigiri and opening it before you could think about grabbing it from him. You glare at him, and he just waves you off.

"Thanks, princess."

[katkbc]

kat is currently thinking of…

GOING TO A CHRISTMAS PARTY WITH TOXIC!EREN…

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MINORS DNI.

note:tbh i had a lil fun writing this! there will be a part 2 w smut but i kinda wanted to make a little story cuz why not? also this is WAY longer than i intended it to be.. sorry….

cw: fem! reader, strong language, violence, reader is a bit of an airhead + sensitive, use of alcohol, angst, eren is toxic , all characters aged up to 20+, im a sucker for toxic eren🫦 also he’s a bit possessive

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summary : you and eren went out to a christmas party, what’s the worst that could happen?

“how you holding up?” your boyfriend asks. as of right now you’ve had a little too much to drink at connie’s christmas party, not to an extent though. to be honest, eren didn’t expect this much people to show up. music is blasting in the back, people are chatting and dancing, some are drunk, others are playing beer pong, this party was for sure a blast right now. you and eren decided to take shots earlier with connie, jean, mikasa, and armin, but clearly you went overboard a bit. you’re currently on the couch next to eren, his hand on your thigh while your leaned over against his shoulder.

“i’m fine ‘ren.. trust me.” you reply, your words slurring together slightly. you take another sip of your beer, but suddenly it disappears. “hey, no more.” eren scolds. eren had decided to invite you to the party because you needed to have a little fun in your life. it’s not like you never went out, you just preferred to stay at home. but when you get drunk, it’s a whole new personality you’ve unlocked.

you came to this party in a strapless bodycon dress,in a nice velvet color. it hugs your hips very nicely and makes your breasts slightly pop out, you wore this with a simple and nice white button up cover up, which you clearly didn’t button up. eren didn’t really approve of what you wore, but man, you looked like a goddess. he couldn’t say no to those beautiful doe eyes you got.

“sorry…” you apologize. sometimes eren would get a little rude with you, but he would quickly realize once you start sulking. “it’s ok, princess. just please don’t over drink.”he smiles at you, and starts circling his thumb on your thigh. you feel hear building up in your core, but it’s just you having to pee really bad. you grab eren’s hand off your thigh. “i need to pee really quick eren, i’ll be back.” you give him an innocent smile. as you get up, he lightly pulls you back. “let me walk with you, it’s crowded.” he insists. “i’m fineee, i’m not a baby eren.” you reply. you grab his face and give him a peck on his cheek. “it’s just really quick..” “alright, don’t go running off though.” he replies.

after washing your hands you walk out the bathroom. you’re walking down the hall back to the main room, slightly stumbling each step. “hey, are you.. good?” a voice calls out to you. the voice belongs to a very nice looking guy. dirty blonde hair which is slicked back, and nice hazel eyes. “yes.. i am. i think.” you think about what you just said. the alcohol in your system is starting to kick in even more. “what’s your name, pretty girl?” he offers a handshake. “y/n, and what’s your name?” you shake his hand, and give him a friendly smile. your cheeks are slightly tinted red. the guy admires you, and can’t help but think ‘damn, she’s gorgeous’.

“porco galliard, you have a pretty name by the way.” he compliments. “thank you!” you let go of his hand. “so… are you here by yourself?” he asks. when he asks, your mind is slowly starting to go foggy, forgetting certain things, and a person. “i’m just trying to find my way out of here.” you ignore the question. “can you help me please…” you plead, looking at him with puppy eyes. “how could i say no to a pretty face like you, where to?” he pulls you close to his side, aware that you aren’t in a great state of mind right now. he doesn’t realize what he has coming.

“yo, eren you good?” connie asks. it’s been about 20 minutes since you left to use the bathroom. your phone is dead, and the house is very crowded, eren is starting to get worried. he would probably have a heart attack if he knew you were with another guy currently. “i’ve called her like what… 15 fucking times and she won’t answer!” he lashes out. “woah calm down..” armin sits himself on the couch next to eren. “how about let’s look for her, she’s probably just lost, you know how she is.” he tries to lighten the mood.

eren wasn’t exactly the best boyfriend. he usually gets angry quickly, and was possessive when it came to you. arguments would lead to you crying and him reassuring you, even though half the time he would start the arguments. but you still loved him no matter what, he’s your baby. and he loved you just as much, probably even more. he’s just ‘looking out for you’.

“yeah, we didn’t expect this much people to come, maybe we should look for her.” jean chimes in. “alright, let’s get going.” armin suggests. eren and him get off up the couch, meanwhile jean has already started looking.

meanwhile…

the sound of crickets chirp outside. in the duration of eren freaking out, porco took you outside for some fresh air, away from the overwhelming party. you needed it, since you were absolutely out of it. the night sky is beautiful, the moon shining which provided some light. you two were sitting on some steps in the backyard. “so… what are some things you like?” porco makes conversation. “i really like cats.” you say. “oh really? what do you like about them?” he asks. “they’re just s’ooo cute! me and my boyfriend adopted one not that long ago and he’s the cutest thing alive!” you ramble. “boyfriend?” he asks. “yeah, my boyfriend is the best. sometimes he can be a little mean though, and it makes me sad.” you say, sadness reminiscing in your tone. porco puts his nicely sized hand on your back and starts rubbing in circles.

“why would he be mean to you? you’re a really sweet girl.” he reassures you. “i don’t really know. whenever we argue sometimes it’s bad. sometimes he gets really mad and starts yelling at me, and i don’t like it. i usually cry because sometimes he’s just so mean. but it’s okay, he apologizes and then makes me feel loved!” you ramble again, words slurring together. porco looks at you. in the hour you guys have been talking he’s learned a good amount about you, but he feels like you deserve more than this so called ‘boyfriend’ you have. but again, he doesn’t really know too much details, and keeps his thoughts to himself. “well… he should honestly respect you as much as-”

“y/n!” the familiar voice calls from behind you. you look back and see the face of your boyfriend, with a look that indicates he is VERY pissed off. “what the fuck!” he yells. “don’t cause a scene eren!” armin scolds at him. “e’ren…” you hiccup. he goes over to where you and porco are sitting with armin following, with a worried look. “who the hell are you?” he looks at porco, with a disgusted look. “calm the fuck down dude, i had to take care of her since someone couldn’t..” he gives a remark. this guy was really testing erens patience. “who are you to tell me i can’t take care of my girlfriend? i was looking for her this whole time just for her to be with another guy.” he snaps back. footsteps are heard, them belonging to jean, connie, and mikasa. your vision is currently blurry, with tears flowing in your eyes. “what is going on out here?” mikasa questions. “oh shit..” connie realizes.

porco stands up and faces eren. “alright i get your her boyfriend and shit, but if you’re thinking we did something, we didn’t. she’s drunk as fuck so i offered to help her since this party is huge. be grateful i made sure she was safe, no need to go off on me.” he explains. there’s a pause of silence, until eren breaks it. “listen, i could honestly care less. i don’t want you near my girl.” he threatens. “eren… please stop.” you plead, looking up at the scene. “you don’t have any room to talk, what the fuck were you and this guy doing anyways?!” he snaps.

you hold back your tears. “we weren’t doing anything eren, don’t make this a big deal.. please.” you were stumbling over your words. this was all too overwhelming, since you came just to have a good time. you should’ve known how eren would’ve gotten.

“shut the fuck up y/n!” he looks at you with flames bursting in his eyes. “i don’t wanna hear your bullshit excuses.” everyone nearby looks at the current scene that’s happening, and you can’t stand it anymore. your mind is fuzzy, and the tears that were at bay on your eyes start slowly falling down your cheeks. you hated when eren would yell at you. now that he’s yelling at you in front of other people, you felt helpless. you get up and leave the scene, leaving everyone behind.

“eren what is wrong with you?” mikasa breaks the sudden silence. she then leaves the scene to go find you. “learn some respect, that’s your girlfriend.” porco remarks. eren looks at porco with hatred, not caring that he was causing an unnecessary scene. that’s just who he was. a loud and sudden sound fills the awkward silence.

eren gave porco a good punch to the face. “don’t tell me what i should learn.” at this point, eren was in rage, he could care less about anything right now. he wanted to fuck up this random ass guy who was telling him shit that related to his girlfriend. erens in the wrong but he doesn’t see it. porco returns a punch back, and this sets off a fight.

people start surrounding the area, observing what is happening. eren delivers a punch on porcos side, which makes him fall. eren steps up and is about to kick porcos face until porco drags him down suddenly, and starts punching him repeatedly. the scene is starting to get very violent, with blood drops filling the wooden patio. armin goes up and pulls back eren, but he’s still delivering blows.

“what the hell is happening?!?” a man who looks like porco arrives at the scene. another man follows behind him, tall, blonde and seems way older than the rest of the party guests. “separate them marcel what are you doing!” the guy shouts. “reiner why don’t you do something too?” jean shouts from the other side of the scene. connie goes up and helps armin pull eren off, and marcel and reiner pull porco away from eren.”

“parties over! everyone get the hell out!” connie yells. the news soon spreads around, and people start leaving before anything else happens. porco apologizes for being involved in the fight, and leaves with marcel and reiner. eren and everyone else goes inside.

“stay still.” armin commands. the party now ended, connie and jean were currently cleaning up. armin is helping clean up eren’s wounds. eren winces at the alcohol put on his wound.

“so, are you proud of being a horrible boyfriend and telling off your girlfriend in front of a crowd for no reason?” armin reminds eren. eren reflects on his actions and realizes he messed up big time. his anger always gets the best of him. “no…” he admits. “you need to go apologize to her. just to let you know she got home safe with mikasa.” the blonde tells eren.“how is she doing?” he asks, head down. “mikasa told me she wouldn’t stop crying.” eren’s emerald orbs look up.

he knew you were sensitive. he hated seeing you cry. he always tries to control his anger around you no matter what, but sometimes the littlest things will set him completely off. the guilt finally falls on him. you never argued back, no matter how much he yelled, because all you wanted was peace, and love from eren. knowing he said hurtful things to his girl is finally dwelling on him.

“i’m sorry for all the mess i caused.” eren apologizes, directing it towards everyone currently in the house. connie steps up, “listen, im not saying i forgive you, but you really have to work on yourself. you should be apologizing to y/n instead of us. what you did was really fucked up eren.” he replies. “we’re all here for you eren, just know that.” jean adds in.

as the moonlight shines, the night continues. eren, driving himself home realizes if he doesn’t work on himself, there’s a potential chance of losing you. he thinks to himself ‘i’m sorry beautiful, i would do anything for you.’ the texts he had sent you earlier sent, but you left him on read hours ago.

he cannot let jealousy and possessiveness take him over. he’s going to make it up to you, one way or another.

part 2 will be linked here !

thank you for reading :)

edit: comment if you would like to be added to a tag list for the part 2!! ^_^