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jarofstyles · 3 months ago

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Cabernet

This can be read as a standalone I think, but! Here is a second part of Merlot! It's spicy and sweet so I hope you guys like it. Unsure if there will be any more parts (I’m open if you guys have more ideas!) but I do love a good dilfrry.

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WC- 4.1k

Warnings- smut, age gap relationship, anal (for those who asked ur welcome!), unprotected sex, cumplay, Dom/sub elements

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Harry was by far the best man she had ever dated.

Their age gap was evident at times, but not in a bad way. It was rather cute when he had been confused about videos she sent or his own excitement to show her the movies or books he was referencing. The added element of their dynamic was learning from one another. Harry had been teaching her about publishing and helping her flesh out the first draft of her book while she sat in his office some days, helping him out in return by getting him coffee or lunch or an occasional shoulder massage when he got particularly stressed. An unofficial assistant of sorts.

“I feel like if I have to write the word ‘said’ one more time, my brain is going to explode.” She grumbled, pushing her laptop across the couch and leaning back on it. The leather seat in his office was by far the most comfortable one she had sat on and he happily invited her to come into the office to see him as often as she wanted. It was both practical and selfish on both ends.It was easier to work in a space like this and with the understanding that Harry really did have work he was doing, she focused on her own stuff. A quiet pair of people working in each other’s company.

Add in the fact that he was the boss man, it made it much easier for her to come and go as she pleased.

“Mm, sometimes authors get stuck with words in their novels. They’ll have phrases they repeat a few too many times, usually gets called out in editing and fixed. It’s not a bad thing. But with words that are action words like that, there are options. Y’know, depending on the scene and tone. Murmured, muttered, peeped, whispered, whined, moaned, huffed, grumbled. Those sorts of words.” He tapped his pen against the desk as he lifted his eyes to her.

It didn’t get old. Seeing her pretty face sitting in his office looking the way she did, much more comfortable than the night they’d first met, but still appropriate for an office setting.

Sometimes he did let his mind wander into the roleplay aspect, wondering if she had been his real assistant if he would have made a move. If Y/N was the Y/N he knew now? Probably. Scandalous.

Today she wore a pair of black flowy pants and a matching turtleneck, but on top she had a chunky knit cardigan that was utterly adorable. It had yellow moons and stars, a deep purple color with sleeves she had to push up so they didn’t hide her hands. His girl leaned into the office aesthetic when she came in so she didn’t stick out too much but with him or when they were at his place or out together, he loved seeing her dressed in her normal clothing. She looked soft, whimsical almost. Like a little fairy.

“Hm. Good point. I need to write down all the synonyms in my notes app and defer to that because if I’m getting tired of writing it, I know whoever ends up reading it will get tired of seeing it too.” Her lips puffed to blow a strand of hair that had fallen from her bun, brows furrowed as she failed and made her hand ready up to tuck it behind her ear instead.

Again, cute.

“Not necessarily.” He replied, leaning back in his chair. “We’re our own harshest critics. I doubt they’re paying that much attention to that. The majority of people will be paying attention to world building, character development, plot, sex scenes, all that fun stuff. The exact wording isn’t always the most important thing. But it shows that you care about quality.” He shot her a grin. “So you will be successful.”

“Mmm… and not because I’m fucking the publishing head?” She grinned as she stood up, stretching her arms out.

“Well. That helps.” He wouldn’t deny it. She had a leg up, but he wouldn’t publish just anything. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t publish shit work. It isn’t worth the reputation of my company. Your writing is genuinely good, my sweet.” He knew the drill by now. Her heeled boots were kicked off by the couch and she made her way over to him, the tiredness starting to hit her as she happily perched herself on his lap.

“Good to know.” She snorted before pressing a kiss to his scruffy cheek. The facial hair had grown but he was shaping it currently. She promised she’d be okay with whatever he did to it but didn’t want anything to happen to the mustache. That wasn’t allowed to go. “What are you working on? Anything fun?”

“No, nothing incredibly interesting I’m afraid.” His hand squeezed her hip underneath the cardigan. “I was working on some contracts earlier but every so often I pick up some submissions and read through them myself. This one is very bland, unfortunately. There’s potential, absolutely. Their writing style is lovely, but the plot falls flat and the characters are one dimensional. S’like they chose a specific stereotype and did nothing to differentiate them.” It was unfortunate.” It was a shame he came across all too often.

“It’s obvious this person is trying but they’ve never observed or met someone with these traits. I don’t think you absolutely have to follow the rule ‘write what you know’, but I think a lot of the best works come from drawing from our own experiences. Romance, for them, doesn’t seem to be a passion. They’d do better with mystery with their writing style as it is, but they have to improve on other aspects first.”

“Is it hard for you to see stuff like that?” She asked curiously, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “I can tell you’re a little disappointed with it, so I have to wonder if it happens a lot.”

“It does. And it is hard when you see someone with potential not living up to it but I have faith that if we send them some constructive criticism notes that maybe they won’t see it as an attack but as a place of genuine care. I’m going to have someone meet with them I think, give them my notes and have them explain it in nicer terms than the plain ones I used. Maybe they can work on it again and add more and we’d have a best seller.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I can see they care about it in the way they put details in, but it needs more.”

There was something incredibly attractive about listening to him talk about it. It was always attractive to see someone care and talk about their passions; but Harry was on another level. She could see it on his face that he was disappointed and knew the person could do better. While it made it all the more nerve wracking for her own novel, she had him working with her along the way.

He never told her where to go with her story in terms of ideas, but how to improve the mechanics. Reading over bits and telling her to take away a certain detail and add more in other places, or giving suggestions about how things could flow smoother. He’d listened to her storyboard, after showing her the author equivalent of it, and gave his honest feedback from a publisher's point of view and then from a boyfriend’s point of view.

Sometimes it was more obvious that he was the one with miles more life experience in these instances but she couldn’t be upset about it when it only aided in strengthening their relationship.

“I see.” She looked at the manuscript on the desk with the red pen of doom. “Oof. The red pen is out… and you’ve used it a lot.”

“Well, there are errors.” He chuffed, kissing her cheek in return. “Did you get enough done?” The word count goal had been 3,000 for today, but he didn’t make it for her. It was all on her. He simply helped keep her accountable.

“I did more. I think… 4.5?” She tilted her head trying to remember. “Now my head feels like soup.” It did feel like mush right now. That was why the laptop was closed and abandoned and she was finding comfort in the man. It was like a reward.

“That’s ace, my dove. Amazing.” He praised. The pride he felt for her was earned fair and square. She had been applying herself more now than ever. Since their first night together they hadn’t really separated, seeing each other at least a few times a week. Her work ethic was there as she had zeroed in on what she wanted. “Why don’t we finish this up and go back to mine, mm?”

Harry had been holding off all week. He’d gone a bit rough one night and even though she said she was fine, he wanted to give her body time to relax. As much as he loved sex, he had wanted her body to enjoy it more than anything else. Not be overly swollen and sore the next day.

Today was going to be the day to break that. A full week of nothing but heated kisses, and she was as needy as needy could get. He felt her perk up at the mention, sitting up straighter in his lap.

“Please! Let’s go. We can get food on the way home but I think we have some pressing matters to attend to.” She sniffed, standing from him and offering a hand to help him up. “Chop chop. Get a move on, mister.”

——-

Two rounds in and he knew she could take it. Her poor cunt was a mess and he knew that as pretty as it was all drippy and swollen, she had been aching for him to get a try into her other hole. They’d had a proper discussion about it, and he had effectively been edging her the entire night. Fair? No, but she knew how he rolled. The promised pleasure first, experiments after. Just in case she wanted to stop, she got something out of the night.

She’d been warming his cock for a bit as he held her in his arms, cooing soft praises about how good of a girl she was, how brave she had been to ask for something new tonight when he felt her get impatient. She didn’t need to say it. He knew her well enough now to understand what she wanted. Pulling his cock out and rubbing the tip against her asshole, pressing against it and spreading the sticky cum over the rim. “Want me t’fuck this tight little ass too? Fill you from both ends."

“Wanna try.” She nodded, panting as her cunt contracted and his cum dribbled out of her pussy. “You’re so big I… I dunno if I can take it. Go slow.” Y/N knew she was slightly cock drunk but she also trusted him. He’d made her feel good already, took his time with everything else why wouldn’t she want to test this with him?

“Okay, my sweet. Just relax.” Harry wasn’t nervous, but he was cautious. His girl was precious cargo, and he wanted to make sure it felt as good as it could. He’d done the work of stretching her with his fingers, but it was going to be a challenge to get him in there regardless. He slowly pushed his thick head past the tight rim of her back hole. Watching her face intently, his own contorted with pleasure. "You're doing so good, doll," he encouraged softly. "Just relax and let me in. You can take it."

The pressure was intense, and she hissed out a breath as he slowly pushed more and more of himself into her. His thick head stretched her wide, and he paused, letting her adjust to the new sensation. "Breathe." The reminder was whispered as he realized she was holding her breath, his hand carding through her hair tenderly.

"That's it, baby. You're taking it so well. Always do so good f’me." He praised, his voice low and soothing. He slowly pushed more of himself into her, inch by inch, his thick prick spreading her wide. She could feel every vein, every ridge, as he slowly filled her up.

As he slid deeper, Harry could feel the intense pressure and stretch around his girth. Her tight little hole was gripped tightly around his shaft, the muscles fluttering and contracting as he pushed his way inside. She felt like she was being split in two, her body struggling to accommodate his bigger size- but she was. Slowly but surely, he sunk into her fully.

She had done it.

“Fuck.” She sobbed out, clinging to him as he got down to the base. Never in her life had she felt so full that way, so stretched. Only Harry could make her feel this way. It wasn’t just the physical feeling, but the emotional one too. She trusted him more than she trusted anyone else. His guidance was priceless.

"You're doing so good, You’ve got it all in. Jus’ gotta let it adjust." he soothed, his voice strained as he fought to keep control. Giving her a moment to adjust, his hands stroking her hair and her cheeks, his thumb brushing away her tears. "You feel so hot around me, doll. So tight. Knew y’would be."

“I wanna be… I want you to feel good.” She whispered, looking at him with wet eyes. “It’s just so big. I’m tryin’ to take it.” It surely wasn't a beginner cock but she wasn’t known for taking the easy way.

"You're doing so well, baby," he reassured her, his hands never leaving her. He slowly pulled out halfway before sinking in again, a little faster this time. "That's it... take me all the way in."

It was the fourth time he did it that she felt the pleasure. Both from the action and the thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against her swollen clit, making her gasp. Her eyes fell shut as she leaned her head back, slowly relaxing into the bed.

He watched her face contorted in pleasure, his heart swelling with pride. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice rough. As she opened her eyes, he began to pick up the pace, his hips pressing against hers. "M’so proud of you. Look at you, taking every bit of me.”

Y/N sent him a blissed out smile as her hand slipped between them, rubbing her own clit slowly as he fucked into her ass. There was nothing rushed about it, nothing frantic, and it felt good just to be. Her muscles relaxed, making it feel even better as his cock filled her hole. Soft moans left her mouth as she curled her other hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down so he was close. “Are they the best holes you’ve had?”

Harry’s face was lax in his own pleasure as he felt her tight ass clench around his cock. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his breath hot against her lips. “They are. So fucking tight, so perfect. Can’t compare them t’anything else.” He kept up his steady rhythm, loving how her body moved with his. “You feel so good. Can never get enough of you.” He whispered, brushing a stray hair out of her face before stroking her puffy lip. They were so pretty. Kissing wasn’t something he’d thought much of before, but he hadn’t kissed Y/N. She had changed everything for him.

“Better than that silly ex wife?” She prodded, watching with a little smirk as she watched him think it over. Y/N had a feeling she was by the way be was acting, but she wanted to hear it.

"Way better." he grunted, his hips snapping forward. "Little minx, y’just need to ask that, hm? No need to be jealous. She never gets t’have me again. Only y-you." He stuttered as her hand moved around his neck and she squeezed down hard on him. "Her holes were nothing compared to yours, doll. Nothing."

Y/N giggled as she choked him a little bit, watching his eyes widen before pulling. It was obvious that while he was the big man in charge- she could have fun too. “That’s what I like to hear. I’ll tell you a secret, Harry.” Her lips brushed his as she kept the grip on his throat. Her lips were swollen and sensitive, the coarse facial hair brushing it and making her want to moan. “None of the boys my age have ever made me cum. They never fucked my ass. Never fucked me raw. And you did it all.”

"And I'm gonna keep doing it," he rumbled, eyes burning with lust as she kissed him. His hand tightened in her hair, tugging gently and pulling her deeper into the kiss. “You’ve got a man now, no need to think of those boys.You want me t’keep being nice to you? Keep making you cum?”

“If you keep fucking me like this, I do. Want my man to be so, so nice to me.” She gasped as he pushed all the way in, balls rested snug against her ass as he slowly humped into her, the comfort of the fullness making her fingers work harder on her clit. “Gotta- Gotta prove you can keep up with me, old man. That you c-can live up to the hype. I like the bit of silver at your temples but…” Her moan was broken as he pulled out and pushed back in, jostling her. “Gotta prove why older guys are b-better for pretty little things like me.”

"Oh, I'll prove it to you," he growled, picking up pace as he pounded into her tight ass. She had no idea just how badly he’d needed her to walk into his life. Thank god she had. This was everything he had ever wanted. "And right now, you need me to wreck this little hole until you can't walk straight. You need me to show you how a real man handles his woman. I'll give you everything you crave, everything you need. You just have to let go and trust me.” The man had every intention of proving how much better he could be for her than she could ever imagine.

"Fuck, look at this cunt." He muttered, reaching down to spread her dripping pussy apart. "It's absolutely soaked, just dripping down. Love it, hm?” The smugness in his tone would usually make her scowl but there was no denying it. The proof was right there. It was undeniable. “You're so turned on, baby. It's making it easier for me to fuck this tight little ass of yours." The glossy, hard flesh glistened with slick, dripping down onto the bed beneath her. His own cum intermingled with her own, making his movements smoother as he pushed in and out of her, coating her holes with their combined essence.

Her face was a mask of pure ecstasy, her eyes rolled back in her head as she whimpered in pleasure, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. Her asshole clenching and unclenching around his thick cock with each thrust, trying to milk him for all he was worth. Her body was feeling tingly, her legs trembling as he fucking into her ass, the sound of her arousal and his hips hitting her skin filling the room. She was completely lost in the pleasure, her mind clouded by the overwhelming sensation of being thoroughly fucked.

As she reached the peak of her orgasm, he took over and began rubbing her clit with his own thumb, the sensation sending waves of pleasure cascading through her body. She cried out, her pussy gushing as she came harder than she would have imagined being fucked like this. She was so overwhelmed that she could only hold limply onto his arms as he continued to pound into her, his thick cock stretching her hole as it thrust through the waves of her intense orgasm.

His face contorted, vein bulging in his neck as he struggled to hold back. "You feel too good, baby. I can't... I can't hold back any longer." His heavy balls drew up close to his body, ready to unleash another load inside of her. The feeling of her taut muscles milking him, the way she clung to him with every fiber of her being, it was too much. He was sensitive himself, but he wanted to deliver everything she wanted.

"Please, Harry...Please,come inside me... I wanna feel you fill me up. Want it everywhere." She panted, her voice desperate with need. Half of the fun of sex was seeing him lose that control he so easily held in all other scenarios. She wanted to make him feel just as good as he made her feel. He deserved it.

His restraint shattered at her words. "Fuck, you're gonna get what you asked for."

With a guttural groan, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and let go, his hot load pulsing into her hole in thick ropes. She felt each ribbon scalding her , marking her as his. "That's it, take it all... That’s m’girl.” He kept cumming, his cock twitching as he filled her. Ribbon after ribbon filled her up until she was overflowing with his load, almost overwhelmingly so. He finally slowed, his chest heaving, before gently pulling out of her ass, his cock glistening with the evidence of their fuck.

With a sense of possessive pride, he watched as his cum began to leak out of her stretched hole, dripping down her thighs. It was satisfying in the filthiest way. Primal and caveman in every sense of the word, he loved knowing that he had done it. He’d taken every one of her holes and made her his in the dirtiest type of way. He gently spread her cheeks apart, admiring the sight of his mark leaking from her. "Look at that... You're so full of me, S’that what you wanted?”

“Mhm.” She smiled, slightly drunk on the orgasm and the fact that he had pushed her further than anyone else had before. it was a good feeling in her body, the beginnings of soreness and the calming heat of his hands as he caressed her the way he wanted. “Exactly what I wanted. Think M’gonna have to keep you around so we can do that again.”

“I’d hope so.” He laughed tiredly, pushing back down to take her mouth for another kiss. “I’m far from finished with you, sweet little thing. But I think I’ve ravaged your body enough. Think you need a bath and some tea, get you ready to sleep.”

Aftercare wasn’t something she’d experienced in any other relationship either, but she realized now it was probably a Harry exclusive thing. He was phenomenal at it. A lot of things, honestly. He experimented with her responsibly, took care of her after every round of sex, checked in on her, made sure she was eating proper meals, and helped her with her career. She’d lucked out with him. Whatever his ex wife was thinking, she had no clue- but she wasn’t about to waste a single bit of him.

“Do you have chamomile?” She asked softly, pecking his lips in return.

“What do you take me for? Course I’ve got it.” He scoffed, pinching her chin. “But if I didn’t, I’d find some for you. Know it’s your favorite. Added it to the grocery list, along with your cereal, your rancid battery acid energy drinks, and the sweet and salty popcorn.”

“It’s good battery acid, I’ll have you know.” She giggled, carding her fingers through his hair. He did have a bit of gray going on the temples but it was sexy. Just hearing how much he cared and put effort into the tiny things made her giddy.

“Yeah, yeah. We can talk about your poison in the morning. It’s time to get clean and go t’sleep. Tomorrow may be the day you write five thousand words. You never know.”

#jarofstyles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles au #harry styles fic #harry one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles age gap #dilfrry #Merlot #soft Harry

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pumpkin-cake · 6 months ago

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begging for ANYTHING fix it related for the most recent season !!!

five x reader and they are married?? it would be nice if the reader had a more relaxed job in comparison to five in the CIA (the reader used to also work for the commission but wanted a calm life)

like maybe working in a daycare or flower shop?

i’m honestly begging for anything sweet please if you’ve got the time !

THIS HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD. YES, I WILL WRITE THIS FOR YOU <3 I ALSO HATE THE WAY THEY CHARACTERIZED FIVE IN THE NEW SEASON. This will be very domestic :3 And it's been a while since I've written Five, I hope he's not too out of character, let me know if you have any pointers :3

The door to your apartment creaks open and heavy footsteps enter, the jangling sounds of house keys hitting the ceramic bowl reaching your ears with a sigh following.

"Good evening, Jerome." You coo.

"I did not pick that name, quit calling me it." Five huffs as he shrugs off his suit jacket, entering the living room. He looked tired, but he was okay with that. He didn't want to settle for some repetitive job he'd be bored as hell at. Even if they gave him stupid aliases like Jerome.

"You could have at least asked. That's embarrassing, telling people your name is Jerome. What about...Ethan? Or even something that's close to Five. Like, Finn, or something." You answered with a chuckle, while Five crumpled on the couch next to you.

"There isn't any point. It's not like you need to go around calling me that name." He said, taking off his tie and laying it across the arm of the sofa. "Anyway, how was work?" He asked, taking off his brown Oxfords and laying them nearby but out of the main walkway. He reached over to the stack of papers on the coffee table and looked at the first page. "Jesus, this is the sloppiest handwriting I've ever seen."

"Ah yes, because children who still have shitty motor skills are going to be writing in perfect print. That's why they only have to write their names, not write full-fledged essays." You said sarcastically, plucking the piece of paper from his hands. You looked over the assignment your kindergarteners were given. The instructions were to count the different types of bugs on the paper. There were no more than 9 of each bug. 4 butterflies, 7 caterpillars, 1 beetle, 8 spiders.

"I was never that dumb." Five said a little snarkily, pointing to the answer spot that said there were only 5 caterpillars.

"Don't be such a prick." You huffed, getting out a blue pen. You didn't like to use red, too harsh. You circled each answer wrong, not making any corrections.

"How are you even meant to teach them this? It's basic counting." Five asked, sort of actually curious.

"We'll just go over it in class tomorrow. Everyone will count together."

"Then what's the point of the homework?"

You groaned. "We are not having this conversation anymore, old man." You pulled out a pack of stickers, putting one on each sheet of paper.

"You're just as old." He countered with a smirk, leaving you to roll your eyes and continue 'grading' the papers. He did shut up and drop the subject, letting his hand stray to your hand that wasn't busy grading papers. He wasn't ever one for physical affection in the past, but ever since getting to this place? He was more lenient. He was never hanging off of you, but his touches were gentler. Each contact of skin was a small way of saying 'I love you', because it was hard to say it out loud after years of isolation.

The biggest way of him saying he loved you was twisting the ring that nicely fit on your finger like he was doing right now. Like he was making sure you were aware of its presence and meaning.

You finished the papers in less than five minutes. You did not envy the fourth-grade teachers who had actual homework to grade. "Your dinner is in the fridge." You told him, taking his other hand and playing with the black band that adorned his ring finger.

"Not hungry." He said shortly, like he was offended you'd ever assume he wanted to do something aside from this. He wouldn't ever say that out loud, of course.

"It's sushi. Made by yours truly." You added, holding back a chuckle when he sucked in a deep breath, very torn between the options. It was weird, able to sit and think about something. He wasn't rushing home to eat and go to bed, he got to do domestic shit with you and fuck did he love it.

"..." Five stayed silent like a brooding teenager.

"I'll come with you." You reasoned, and he reluctantly sat up. You smiled and got up with him, the two of you traversing to the kitchen. He opened the door to the fridge and grabbed the small Tupperware of delicious looking sushi. You were not a fan of Commission cafeteria food, and you took pride in buying the best ingredients for you and your spouse. You were already grabbing him a pair of chopsticks, sitting with him at the kitchen island.

"...thanks." He said after eating a roll. He was stubborn, but he really did appreciate you taking the time to make more for him when he got home late. It was so nice to come home to a homemade meal. It reminded him of Grace.

"Of course, honey." You smiled, sitting in silence while he ate. He savored every moment. After being in the apocalypse for forty years, he really grew to appreciate the things he didn't have. He swore he would never take this life for granted.

He never questioned why, because the whole reason was sitting right next to him.

#x reader #gn!reader #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #fluff #aidan gallagher #umbrella academy season 4

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whowrotethenote · 3 days ago

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𝐁𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Summary: What starts off as a regular Spring Break attending Wrestlemania for Alana, takes an unexpected turn, landing her in a fantasy come to life. The Tribal Chief is in need of unwinding after his victory and he chose her.

Pairing: Roman Reigns x Black Fem OC

Warnings: NSFW // Smut // Age gap // Profanity // Adultery

Word count: 8.9k (sorry lol)

Inspo: Biggest Fan by Chris Brown

A/N: This took way longer than it should've, but I'm actually proud of myself for finishing. Y'all don't know how many times I've started writing something in the past and never finish. There's drafts of unfinished everything on my laptop.

This is my first time posting my writing on any platform. I hope y'all like it. I tried to proofread as much as I can, but I'm honestly tired of reading it lol. I feel like I'm going to realize its shit and delete it all.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any media posted. Credit to their respective owners.

I do not consent to any portion of my writing to be reproduced or used in any manner without expressed written permission of myself, with the exception for the use of brief quotations.

This story is completely fictional. With the exception of OCs, I do not own any characters in this story. The pictures posted are for the intention of face claims and imaginative purposes. The ideas, stories, scenarios, and characters you are about to read about are a mixture of my imagination, and inspiration from real life whether it be loosely based on people I know or public figures. By no means should you take anything a character thinks, says, or does, as my way of expressing my own interpersonal beliefs and thoughts. The characters are themselves and I am me. Two completely separate entities. I am not trying to promote any lifestyle, ideas, or agendas throughout the book. I am simply telling a story. If you cannot grasp that concept, do not read any further.

“I wonder if the Usos will come out.”

“Yeah, probably,” I respond to my roommate Demi, only half as concerned as she is. The Usos are the last thing on my mind. They’re her choice of poison. I’m here for one man and one man only.

I survey the crowd of strangers surrounding us. All in Bloodline gear waiting for the same thing. The Main Event. They all probably spent a fortune months ago just to be in the very same spot she and I stole tickets for.

It wasn’t on purpose. We originally had nosebleeds. We were lucky to even have those, seeing as we snagged them just days ago. The frail older man outside the doors waving a chunk of tickets in his hand, was an angel in disguise. He waved and waved until two tickets went flying into the thick crowd of people all pushing to just get into the main doors of the building.

Demi and I searched on hands and feet for those tickets that no one else seemed to be looking for. Imagine our disbelief seeing them all dirtied and stepped on by the door and they read floor seats. Not just any floor seats. The ones located directly next to the entrance ramp with a clear shot of the ring. Fucking jackpot.

don’t be acting all fanned out when he walks by either

I smirk reading the text my brother sent. Yeah, right. Maybe three years ago, a young Alana would’ve woke up tomorrow morning with no voice from losing my shit, watching the Roman Reigns walk by me. But it's not five years ago. I’m not a teenager in my room waiting at the TV with my golden glove on, throwing my one’s up and giving an acknowledgment he couldn’t even see.

Who am I fooling? That teenage girl, although buried deep, still lives within me. Otherwise I wouldn’t even be here. I wouldn’t have spent the two thousand my dad gave me to enjoy my spring break on a plane ticket to LA, a hotel and tickets to Wrestle-mania 39. I’d be like the rest of the Juniors at my university. Bar hopping in Mexico or in Miami half naked strutting down Collins Ave.

I go back and forth between scrolling on my phone, daydreaming, and loosely watching the matches that come. Before I know it, the moment I’ve been waiting for all night and damn near all my life rises to the forefront.

The lights dim and the first beats of the drums ring loud throughout the stadium, matching the acceleration of my heartbeat. This is really happening. He’s about to come out and walk right past me. Everyone around me pulls their phones out on the ready, accompanied by a roar of screams just as loud as the orchestra performing his music.

Too concentred on the entry way anticipating his figure, I forget I even have a phone. No, I need to feel this thoroughly. No middle man between me and this unforgettable experience.

We all wait in collaborative angst until his tall figure emerges and my breath gets caught in my throat. The aura and the energy he carries is all consuming, demanding the attention of every person present, even his haters. Solo and Paul flank behind him following his slow and steady pace until he comes to a hard stop.

The cameraman is dangerously close as he kneels to catch him from an angle down below. This is so surreal. On cue his pyro lights fire, upping the excitement from the crowd if even possible. Everyone is already losing their minds. Even Demi’s screams threatened to take out my right eardrum despite her main infatuation resting with the Usos.

His mesmerizing eyes scan the crowd with a slight nod of approval and then they land on…me? Time stills and I can’t hear the noise around me. Was he staring at me?

As much as I want to look around for confirmation that his eyes are indeed locked on me, I’m hypnotized. The slight scrunch of his brows and his dark pupils paralyze me in place. Jesus, Lana. Move. Smile. Wave. Shit, do something.

He’s fucking beautiful. Carved from stone. Kissed by the sun. Hair wet and hanging. Ula Fala draping perfectly around his neck. Full beard with a hint of greying. And his chest. God, his chest. His abs rippled perfectly. I’m scared to even blink, at the risk that I’ll miss something.

A thick pink tongue slithers out over his lips and I heat up from the inside out. My god.

In a flash he looks onward to the ring on the move again and the world returns to its original state.

I turn to face Demi whose eyes are wide like a saucer. “Biiiitch,” she drags out and we break into a fit of laughter.

“Okay, so I’m not bugging?” My brows dent.

“No. No, I saw it too,” she assures me. “That man was definitely eye fucking you.” My face heats replaying the scene back in my head. “That was so surreal. He’s so much bigger in person…” Her voice trails off once I get lost in my thoughts watching him hold his titles up in the center of the ring. He moves like a king. Like everywhere he goes he expects everyone to bow gracefully and fall at his feet. It makes him even more attractive than just what the eyes can reach. Fuck me. This is going to be a long night.

Demi got her wish. The Usos came out but their stunt didn’t last too long due to an appearance from Sami and Kevin. Somehow, Roman still took home the win. Still the champion. Still on top. Still the man.

The whole match, I could only half way focus on him and his god-like figure moving about in the ring. The other half of me was still stuck in the moment we shared during his entrance. Was he really staring at me?

Call me delusional, but I swear he looked at me two more times. Once during the match, when he kicked out at the last second of Cody’s pin. He struggled to his knees and rested back on his heels to scan the crowd. He stumbled to his feet, but not before those eyes bore a hole into mine for a quick second. Then again, when he won. He held up his titles, chest heaving up and down, then he looked my way with a squint.

“I can’t believe he still won,” Demi practically has to yell as we ease our way through the crowd to leave. “I was sure it was game over when Sami gave him the boot.”

Simultaneously we push through the back entrance doors and let them slam behind us. The slightly chilly night air of April hitting. No more screams. No more crowds. But the rush and aura of the night still lingers on us.

“My man doesn’t take L’s,” I tell her matter-of-factly with my chin up.

“I see,” she laughs.

We were smart. We took an Uber and told him to let us out from almost three blocks away. We follow that same pattern now to avoid the rush and traffic of everybody trying to leave at once. Towards the opposite way of the parking lot, away from the crowds, we start our journey to a quiet block to call the Uber.

“Wanna hit it?” Demi extends her hand that holds a lit blunt in between her fingers. I shake my head.

“How the hell did you even get that thing in?”

“Tampon,” she informs before pulling from it. Of course. She’s been sneaking weed into parties that way since we were freshmen.

“Excuse me! Ladies!” An authoritative calls from behind causing us both to stop in our tracks. I know that voice. “Excuse me!”

Demi and I lock eyes and at once we do a complete one-eighty to find him practically chasing us down.

“What the fuck?” I hear Demi murmur before he stops in front of us winded.

“Ladies,” he offers one firm nod. “My name is—’’

“Paul Heyman,” we finish for him in unison.

A smug smile adorns his chubby face. “That’s right.” He holds a hand out and we both just stare at it for a while. After several seconds of an awkward and shocking silence, Demi abruptly shakes his hand and I follow her lead, still trying to make sense of this moment.

“I’ve been sent to relay a message. The Tribal Chief has requested your services for tonight.”

“Services?” The line between Demi’s thoughts and what comes out of her mouth has always been very blurred.

“Yes,” he confirms. In unison we turn just our heads to each other with equal expressions of confusion and disbelief. “You see, The Tribal Chief likes the comfort of company while he’s on the road from time to time.”

“Company, huh?” I catch Demi’s smirk.

“Especially on nights like tonight. You know?” I raise a brow. “All the adrenaline, excitement, and energy from tonight’s match. It's good for him to uh… blow off some steam and unwind.”

I lose count of how many times Demi and I have to exchange looks tonight. Since I’ve met her we’ve always spoke a nonverbal language only we understand. A subtle head nod in the direction of a cute boy in the room, an eye roll when somebody says something problematic, or wide eyes when someone spills tea that we know we’ll have to debrief about later. Tonight, our eyes dance in a mutual agreement that can’t be any clearer. “Hell yeah,” I speak for the first time.

Demi tosses the lit blunt and we both advance to follow him. “Oh no, I’m sorry. Just you.”

“Me?” I ask with a finger to my chest. He grins slyly nodding.

“I— I don't know.”

“You don’t know?” Demi slaps my arm.

“I’ll need an answer now. Gotta get you to his bus before the real crowd emerges. There’s a few things you need to sign.” Sign? Oh god. This is getting serious.

“M—maybe this is a mix up. Are you sure he asked for me—”

“Bitch.” I’m interrupted by a firm push from Demi toward Paul. My eyes meet her wide ones that scream, “go.”

I look between the both of them. “You’ll be fine getting to the hotel?” I’m not all the way certain how tonight will go, but I have a feeling I won’t be seeing her until tomorrow.

“Girl, don’t worry about me. I’ll always get where I’m going. I should be the last thing on your mind.”

“We can wait until her Uber comes?” I eye Paul who eyes his watch briefly.

“Sure.”

So we wait in silence. The whole time, I bounce the idea of just saying never mind and pussying out, back and forth like tennis. Reading my mind, Demi would eye me and mouth “don’t you dare.” So many things can go wrong. I’m not even entirely sure I know what the hell Paul is talking about. Company? Services? It could mean so many things. Does he want to talk? A massage? Am I going to just sit there on his lap while he watches TV? What if he’s one of those foot guys? Is he going to touch himself while I sit there barefoot? Oh god, please don’t have a foot fetish.

With the exception of tonight, I’ve only ever seen him through a screen. Playing a character. I don’t know him. That’s the reality of it. Am I really about to follow a stranger, Paul Heyman, to accompany another strange man?

After checking that she has the right Uber and sensing she will be safe alone with him, I let her hand go. She gives me one final look before I let her shut the car door. “Make him remember you, bitch.”

Like a farmer leading its cattle to slaughter, I follow him as he leads me up the steep steps of the bus. A pit of something stirs in my stomach the deeper we walk. Equal parts angst and doom. Like the end of something and the beginning at the same time. We pass the driver’s seat. The floors are a shiny mahogany wood, matching the cabinets of the kitchen area we end up in. Although small, it feels grand. Definitely doesn’t seem like a space this chic belongs in a bus trailer. I guess only the best for the best.

In the midst of admiring the space, I look over to see Paul shuffling some papers around.

“Alright! So I’ll need you to sign this.” He separates one stack from the main one and slides a pen out for me. “Just something that says we’re not responsible for any items lost, damaged, or anything like that.” Everything in me screams to read the thick stack thoroughly before I dare sign my name on the dotted line. I do it anyway, because who even has time for that? Paul is already moving about like he has somewhere to be.

“And this here,” he pushes the signed paper out the way and slides another stack in its place. This one much thicker than the former. I raise a brow. “Don’t worry. It's just a non-disclosure. Nothing discussed, seen, or heard after you sign can be shared with any other persons.”

I look for the expiration date of the legal document and don’t find one. I search and my eyes land on the word indefinitely.

“Indefinitely, huh?” I think deeply about what I am about to agree to. I would only even want to tell Demi and a few other girls from our bookclub maybe that watch WWE. My eyes land on the seven figure lawsuit terms if the NDA is breached. I weigh my options. Spill tea and get fined or secretly get intimate with the man of my dreams…

The pen is smooth as it glides along the dotted line and I cap it before handing it back over to Paul. “Perfect.” He takes it and reorganizes the papers. I blow out a breath looking around again. There’s a grey curtain blocking off the rest of the bus, which I assume holds a bedroom of some sort and a bathroom.

“Is he already here?” I lean to try and get a peak of whats beyond the curtain.

“Nope. He’s doing a bit of press and wrapping some things up backstage. You’ll wait for him here. The driver is inside the building. Probably won’t be back until late tonight. Roman should be back soon.”

“I’m expected to stay here overnight?”

“Totally up to you. I’m sure you and him will figure it out. It’s not like him to spend the night alone though.”

In that moment it becomes clear what I am here to do. My heart lurches at the thought of just sharing a bed and possibly cuddling with him. His big muscular arms wrapped around me. The heat of his breath on the back of my neck and the hardness of his di—

“This wasn’t on the NDA you just signed, but,” he held his hand out between us. “I’m gonna need that phone before I leave.” Of course. I almost change my mind. “Don’t worry. You’ll get it back as soon as it's all over. Definitely before you leave.”

Fuck it. I retrieve my phone from the back pocket of my jeans and he gladly takes it. I don’t need it anyhow. I can’t imagine being in the presence of him anyway and my phone stealing the show. I would forget I even had one.

It's not long before he’s packing everything up, preparing to leave me. A small part doesn’t want him to go. He served as sort of a comfort. Truth be told, my heart is in my ass.

He pulls the curtain back to reveal a chic bedroom set up. If I didn't know any better, I would think we are in a five star hotel and not a bus trailer.

Everything is a sleek grey with undertones of black. Glossy black wood dresser chest and a matching nightstand. Black wood bed frame and headboard. I run my hand along the dark grey duvet thats just as soft as it looks.

“I’ll be on my way. You’ll probably see me tomorrow or later tonight. If not someone else will give the phone back.” He waves my phone and turns, but not before pulling the curtain back to close.

I’m all alone now. Theres a flat screen mounted opposite the bed, but the noise won’t do anything but make me more anxious. I want to be able to hear everything going on.

I have the weird urge to go through his suitcase I see sitting upright by the wall. I shake the thought away knowing it's an invasion of privacy. I opt to go through the dresser chest instead. Its empty. I guess he didn’t get a chance to unpack.

I turn and rest my butt on it, crossing my arms. Minutes go by, and what seems like an hour passes before I hear movement outside the bus. Deep voices talking and then I hear heavy steps heading my way. I straighten up. No, too formal. I sit on the bed legs crossed. No, what am I? An escort?

I stand again and take my original place leaning on the edge of the dresser, just in time for the curtain to pull back. The sight of his large stature so much closer to me than he was in the arena takes my breath away.

He doesn’t say a word. Just looks at me and walks right by me to his suitcase. Then he’s in the bathroom. The sound of him peeing is loud followed by water running.

Big, tan and burly, he emerges again. He moves with power just oozing off of him, with an authority that just screamed, “I’m in charge.” It's not just a ring persona. Thats just him.

My eyes never leave his tall frame maneuvering around the small space as if I’m not even standing here. He kicks the Jordans off his feet to slip into his slides. His Nike hoodie comes off next and he tosses it on the small loveseat in the corner. His big and cut arms now in full view.

He relieves himself of the contents in his pants pockets. Wallet, keys, some loose change, and a small folded paper all fall on the dresser. He stops for a moment holding out his left hand. He twists the black band off his ring finger and places it in the drawer instead of on top of the dresser with the rest of his things.

Our eyes snag and I immediately shift my attention to my fingers. Twisting and untwisting. Picking at the acrylic on my nails. Anything but looking him in the eye after witnessing that. It's not too late to change my mind. I can stop this. I should, but do I really want to?

The sound of his slides lets me know he’s on the move again. I find him by a minibar area I hadn’t noticed earlier.

“Is it cold in here?” His deep voice cuts through the silence. It's then I notice I was holding and rubbing my arms as if I was cold. So, he is paying me some kind of attention. Truth is, I’m just trying to keep the goosebumps from a slight panic attack at bay.

“No, it's fine.”

“You feeling alright?” He twists slightly with a raised brow. Probably trying to figure out why I haven’t moved an inch since he walked in here. He’s so calm and cool. I don’t know what I was expecting, but the calmer he is, the more anxious I grow.

“Yeah. Y—yeah, no I’m fine.”

“You spoke to Paul already?”

“Yeah—yes,” I correct myself and clear my throat. I don’t know when it became so damn dry.

I was speaking to his back. The muscles still making themselves known even through the fabric of his black tee. Hair sleeked back into his signature bun. My eyes trail down to his ass. For a man, he has a nice one. I image how he’d look with nothing. The intimacy of him walking around with absolutely nothing on. The afterglow of sex on him. Rock hard abs and tribal tattoo as his only decoration. His manhood swinging freely, semi-hard even after just laying serious wood—

“Then I assume you know why you’re here,” his deep voice cuts my nasty daydream short.

I can hear him maneuvering glass, but I couldn’t see exactly what he was doing over his big frame. I was too shell shocked to move too much, afraid I might wake up from this fever dream.

“I do,” I answer him.

If my father knew when he gave his only daughter, his princess, money to enjoy her spring break, that she’d end up alone in the bus of a man who was over ten years her senior, the money would’ve never made it into my hand in the first place. I’m sure this isn’t what he had in mind, but truly this was the best way a young girl could enjoy spring break. An unexpected encounter with an older and wealthier man. My idol. I watched him on TV for years. Gawked at the screen. Liked thousands of edits on Tiktok and Instagram. Dreams of this very moment knowing it couldn’t possibly ever come true. And now here he was. Big in stature and energy right here in front of me. Talking to me.

Hell yeah, I know what I’m here to do. Even if he didn’t utter a single word and just stripped and nodded to the bed, I’d still get the job done with no shame. What girl in her right mind wouldn’t?

I can hear them now. But he’s married. He has a family. He’s old enough to be your father. They just won’t understand. Demi would. Demi would get it. She always gets it and she always gets me. Having lost her father and sister in a car crash just weeks before moving into the dorms for college, taught her that life was indeed too short. Live freely and take risk, because you don’t know when you won’t be able to. Shit, we’re all gonna die anyway. That’s the mantra she lives by. She’s different and that’s why I attached myself to her. She’s not like everybody else who lives like they’ve already walked the steps to heaven.

This was a more than seldom, once in a lifetime opportunity. I’d think about this night when I’m grey and depleting on my deathbed. I won’t let my head play tricks on me with the opinions of anyone who would do the same thing put in my position.

It's silent again. I hear liquid being poured for a second. I wonder if Demi made it back to the hotel okay. She’s probably blowing up my phone with a thousand texts trying to figure out whats going on.

So deep in my thoughts I don’t realize he’s making his way to me until he’s right here already. I have to look up to meet his gaze as he stares down at me over the bridge of his nose. He’s so big. He smells divine. It's a masculine type of musk with a cleanliness to it. My breath gets caught in my throat, realizing exactly how close we are. Our shoes were just shy of an inch from touching. My chest rises and falls in anticipation of his next move.

Without any words, he holds a glass filled with brown liquid out closer to me. I look down at it with just my eyes. I’ve only been twenty-one for two weeks. Didn’t even get the opportunity to sit at a bar so a man could offer me a drink before trying to sleep with me. Who would’ve thought the first offering would come from him. Roman Reigns. Just at that thought, something in me ignited.

I took it, with the intention meaning more than just accepting the drink. I’m accepting the situation. Drawing a line in the sand and disposing of any doubt if there even was any left. I’m doing this. All complications pushed to the back. Tonight he’s not Joe Anoa’i, the married man with five kids. He’s Roman Reigns, undisputed WWE Universal Champion, The Tribal Chief, Main Eventer, Head of the Table…And I’m his biggest fan.

I throw the contents of the glass back, trying my hardest not to make a face from the burning sensation. He gets it down in one big gulp, putting me to shame, as I can’t help watching his Adam’s apple bob up and then down. He’s still just inches from me. I can see every hair on his beard. The slight greying ones are my favorite.

It's so weird seeing him in this state. So lax in his own space. No ring gear. No mean scowl. No Ula Fala around his neck. No championship belt around his waist. Just him. Black tee and sweats to match.

He takes the glass back and places them both behind me on the dresser top. Without warning, he’s on me. His tongue shoves past my lips saying to hell with formalities. No warm up. Straight to business.

“Mm,” I groan from shock. My natural instinct from being so caught off guard is to create some space, but a firm hand gripping the base of my neck keeps me in place.

He immediately asserts dominance, caressing every part of my body his hands can reach like he owns it. My neck, my shoulders, my back, and all the way down to my ass with a firm squeeze that separates my pussy lips. All the while still assaulting my mouth with his warm tongue. The tang of the alcohol still lingering. I fight for some control in the kiss but it's no use. He’s too much for me.

Everywhere his strong hands make contact, it leaves a spark until my whole body feels like it's on fire. Damn, that drink was strong. He pulls away from the kiss completely after one last soft, open mouthed peck. Like a magnet, my eyes find the thick bulge in his black sweats and I grow even more excited.

He drops to his knees in front of me and my breath hitches when his cold fingertips find their way up my shirt. A trail of kisses with a slight tickle from his beard follow up and up until I raise my arms for him to take the shirt off completely.

He’s back on his feet, turning me so my back is facing him. My breathing grows erratic. This is really happening.

“Lights,” his voice rumbles behind me. The bright lights turn off but there's little lamps set up in the small space allowing a cast bright enough to see still.

The black lace bra I wear is unhooked in a matter of seconds. Who knew when I put it on this morning, that Roman Reigns himself would be taking it off come night. With a firm grip on my hips he turns me back to face him.

Being well endowed up top from such a young age, my natural instinct is to cover myself. I always thought they were a bit big for my body. Standing at five foot seven, I was only one hundred and fifty pounds. A lot of my weight being carried up top from these double D’s. When all the girls in middle school were just filling in, I was a full D cup. I noticed how boys would stare. Older men too. It would make me uncomfortable. Always thinking of ways to cover them or make them appear smaller.

Avoiding eye contact is useless. His eyes are like magnets. Like the sun. Just beaming down on me, making them impossible to evade. So I stare back at him. We stay like this for a while. Just watching one another in silence. The air is smoky with lust and pure ecstasy.

His hands cover mine and slowly drag them down to reveal my breast. Round, surprisingly perky, with fully erect chocolate nipples, creating a contrast to my caramel complexion. They steal the show as his eyes shoot to them immediately while he breathes deep from his nose.

I can feel his energy shift from passionate to pure animalistic. When his entire mouth covers one nipple, I lose all my sense. My head rolls back and instinctively I bring a hand to the back of his head. A rough hand cups and caresses my breast while he’s still latched on. I watch in awe as his thick tongue sticks out to flick and play with it before sucking again.

He’s expertly unbuttoning my jeans with his other hand as I feel the snag of him trying to pull them down. I step out of my shoes to help him and reveal the black thong I am not even accustomed to wearing. I’m more of a a boy shorts or Walmart pack panties kind of girl. I just so happen to have forgotten to pack them and had to borrow a pair from Demi.

Bending down must be uncomfortable, since he grips the back of my knees to hike me up like I weigh absolutely nothing. He gives more attention to my chest, sucking until my nipples are sore, before his tongue is in my mouth exploring again. We’re moving now, I assume towards the bed. With every step, his erection rubs against me leaving me clenching and needy.

My back meets the unbelievably soft bed. I practically sink into it, watching him rear back to remove his shirt and show off that god-like body. Mountains and valleys of muscle in his abdomen placed perfectly like someone sculpted him with their bare hands. His bun hangs a little looser now.

His long fingers loop the waistband of my panties and we lock eyes. His stare is intense saying what his lips didn’t. I nod once. I’m doing this.

Almost in slow motion he pulls them down my legs, his eyes not leaving mine until the very last second. His attention is stolen by the sight of me down there.

“You’re soaking.” He uses the butt of his thumb to circle my clit. I jump slightly at the sudden contact. “That’s all for me?” He locks eyes with me again, expecting an answer and all I can do is nod frantically while biting down hard on my bottom lip. I can’t keep still. My body is on fire under his touch and his gaze. Eyes dark with passion, he squints watching me squirm every time he speeds the rhythm of his thumb up or down.

“Fuck,” I move my hips to the rhythm of his hand and grab one of my breast.

His thick tongue snakes out to lick his pink lips like he did earlier in the arena and I almost cum on sight. I look on in shock watching how he licks his thumb clean like he just ate Doritos and he’s discarding the remnants of them. A small groan of pleasure leaves his throat. I must be dreaming.

Climbing off the bed hastily, he tugs his pants and red briefs down at once and his dick pops up on recoil. My pussy clenches around nothing in anticipation for her next guest. Long, thick and tanned just like the rest of him. Mouthwatering. I never had the urge to taste something so bad in my life.

I can tell there’s no time for that though. He’s anxious now. I can feel the heat and need radiating off his body as if his stiff, vein-filled dick didn’t already tell on him.

With a tight grip on my ankle, he flips me over abruptly. Of course. Missionary would’ve been way too intimate for the circumstances.

On instinct I get up on all fours, deepening the arch to an almost painful degree so the view is nice for him. A smack so hard I jerk forward a bit, lets me know he’s satisfied with what he sees.

“All this ass,” he mumbles rubbing my behind in circles and even giving it a little shake.

He runs his long fingers up and down the slickness with ease. A groan leaves my throat as I grow impatient. I know I should want this to last as long as humanly possible, but I can’t fight this storm inside of me. I’ve wondered too long about it, daydreamed about it, and even touched myself in imagination before at the thought of this man I only knew through a TV screen.

I sway back and forth slightly waiting and listening to the sound of a wrapper and a slight pop. I have no time to prepare. The bed dips with the weight of him back on it. His thick head is at my opening, rubbing from my clit to almost my asshole. He only does this three good times before I’m practically ripped apart.

“Ouu!” A mix of a moan and something I’ve never heard from myself fills the room. He roughly takes the hand I thought I would use to push him and pins it behind me.

My throat goes dry. God damn. He’s fucking huge and unforgiving. Even with the slow pace he’s pushing into me combined with my wetness, it still feels like he’s breaking me apart from the inside out.

“Breathe,” he coaches. If possible a gush of wetness rushes out from the sound of his voice, bringing me back to the situation at hand. I have to make it work for him.

I bite down on the expensive grey covers as he pulls completely out and then back in. “Mm!”

He finds his rhythm, as he’s able to glide in and out. I try to match him once the pain subsides. I glance back to catch his full bottom lip caught between his teeth. The muscles in his chest working as a sheen of sweat starts to form.

I work harder now. The sight of him turning me on more than ever, opening me up like a wildflower.

“Let me hear you. I wanna hear you,” he grunts out almost desperately. The vulnerability in his rough voice drawing more heat and wetness from my core. I moan louder than I intended and shock myself. I’m not usually verbal in bed. Maybe a little cry or whimper here and there. This shit feels too good to be demure and delicate about.

I obey his order and release the moan that I didn’t even know I’m suppressing. It's not forced or fabricated. I genuinely feel so good in this moment I can only moan in response.

His strokes are primal. Animalistic like a lion in the wild taking whats his. And he’s so fucking big. In aura and size. The ways his body envelopes mine makes me feel smaller than I really am. His thickness stretching me in a way I didn’t think was possible.

“Oh, fuck!” I yell out. His hand tangles in my hair and stretches my gaze up, giving him full view of my desperate face.

“Tell me how good it feels,” he demands.

“Oh my god,” I pant. “It's so fucking good,” I struggle to get out. Every thrust steals my breath. He aims for the perfect spot every time and doesn’t miss. The smack of our bodies colliding ring loud in the silent space.

“Louder, baby,” he grunts diving deeper.

“I can feel you everywhere. You feel so good! Unh!”

“Atta girl.” The rumble of his voice sends a vibration straight to my core. My pussy clenches down from his words. To add insult to injury, a large and slightly calloused hand finds its way up my stomach to cup my breast. He pinches, twists and rolls my nipple around like he’s playing with a toy. As if my pussy isn’t becoming dangerously wetter already.

He removes the hold in my hair, trailing to my hip. His thumb presses down hard while guiding me back and forth on him. He gives me his all and I return the favor, using the unstable grip I have on the duvet to leverage me as I throw my ass back on him to catch.

The friction of his balls slapping sloppily against my clit built up enough pressure for a pending orgasm. With one strong hand still on my hip, he uses his free one to shove my face down to the bed making me lose any power I had in this fight.

His front collides with my ass, causing a consistent slapping. Anyone walking on the bus could easily tell whats going on now. His grunts, my pants, the consistent slapping. These were sounds of fucking.

“Fuck me! Yesss!” I don’t recognize myself. He’s awakening something in me. A familiar tinging stirs in the pit of my stomach. If he keeps on, it won’t be long until I explode all over his thick dick.

“Yeah?” He whispers.

“Yeah,” I whimper in response.

He goes harder than ever before, his strokes less uniform and more wild. My mouth falls wide open at the intensity and perfect mix of pain and pleasure.

His hips continue to snap against me and if possible I feel him grow harder inside me. His fingertips dig into me so hard I know there’ll be bruises tomorrow.

“Urghh!” A guttural moan erupts from him, urging me to fuck him through his release even as his movements slow. I study his facial expressions and record them in my brain to take home with me as a souvenir. He stretches his neck with eyes shut tightly. That fucking tongue. Whisking out to flatten over his top lip before he bites down on his bottom one. Chest heaving up and down with the muscles in his abdomen flexing with every breath.

“So fucking good,” he says more to himself. He delivers another hard spank to my ass before I feel him ease out of me, hissing slightly at the sudden disconnect and absence of him. The pit of my stomach heavy still with the lingering orgasm that was cut short.

I’ve had sex with guys before and never got to finish. I’d leave unsatisfied and almost regretting the encounter completely. This is different. I’m here for him. I’d fulfill his needs and drain him even if it meant I left with nothing but a wet ass.

The bed creaks a little, letting me know he got up completely. Just when I think the night is over, my mouth falls open at the sensation of his hot mouth covering my entire pussy. His tongue slithers out to graze my distended clit.

“Mm, shit,” I cry out, shaking. I’m so sensitive. Any little sensation sends my body into overdrive. Every lick draws a mini release. When I finally get to the edge I know I’ll fall completely apart. The hair from his beard tickles me, only heightening the sensations. I feel nothing but pure pleasure.

A strong hand comes down on my left ass cheek and I whimper on impact. He squeezes it in a firm gip to move me up and down in a steady rhythm on his flattened tongue.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” I cry. I let my head hang down unable to keep it up any longer. All I can do, feel, and think about in this moments is how good he feels to me. Guys my age always need a crash course on how to eat pussy. Always too much spit, they couldn’t find my clit, or the torturous shaking of the head like a rabid dog.

Roman is eating me like I’m his last meal. Touching spots I didn’t even know a tongue could reach. With the way he’s grabbing me and rocking me on his stiff tongue, he’s damn near fucking me with it. We’re two complete strangers. The power dynamic is completely off. He’s the billionaire WWE superstar and I’m the underpaid and overworked fan in college. Somehow he’s still taking the time to worship my body and give me his all as if he’s the one who has something to prove.

The dick was mind-blowing. Oh, but the head will be the death of me. That same tongue he wags and flicks on live television, exploring me. Tonight is an absolute fairytale. If I didn’t know any better, I would think he could read my mind. He knows exactly what I want and how I want it.

In only a matter of seconds a tornado of heat swirls in my core. I rock back and forth on his mouth before he sucks relentlessly on my sensitive bud nonstop.

“Unnhh!” An uncontrollable shake erupts from me as I see stars. The world goes completely blank for a while as I relish in the ecstasy of my orgasm granted by the Tribal Chief himself. Tonight, I acknowledge him and his mouth.

“Oh my god,” I whisper in between pants coming to my senses. A small laugh leaves my throat at the way I just lost myself in front of him.

I turn to find him in the middle of snatching the cream covered condom off. His big dick bobs up and down from the snatch, fully erect again.

We got one night only.

Like a lioness on the prowl in the jungle, I eye him, crawling to the edge of the king bed where he stands. I stop just in front where my mouth aligns to his thickness, still eyeing him, making sure it's okay. He nods giving me the green light and even holds the base in his strong hand to bring it closer to my lips.

I let a glob of spit form and fall freely on his thick mushroom tip. Before it can drip, I catch it on the underside and lick from tip to base, to the tip again. His hips push forward impatiently.

“Open.” It's not a question so I don’t test him. His face is hard, but his eyes are desperate. As soon as my lips part he shoves himself all the way in like he owns my entire mouth. He draws out and I hallow my cheeks to keep it in as long as possible until I release him with a pop.

“Stick your tongue out for me.” I oblige and he slides his heavy dick across it gathering spit before pushing back down my mouth. A pulse grows in my clit again. A revival from seeing the remains of the mess I made in his thick beard.

“It's so good,” I tell him while slapping it on my tongue for him, earning a groan. The skin of him is soft as he stretches my mouth. I can taste the salty precum and I cant wait for the rest of it. I never trusted a man to release his bodily fluids in me in any way. It kind of grossed me out. Oh, but not tonight. He can release wherever he chooses.

Using one hand to twist in tandem with sucking him, I study every change in his expression, every pattern of his breath to record what feels the best to him.

“Go ‘head,” he urges in a low guttural tone. “Just like that. Take it all the way down. Don’t stop, babygirl.” That’s all I need to hear.

The eye contact is so deep it puts me in a trance. In a constant and fluid motion I take him in and out, making sure he reaches the back of my throat every time. In and out. In and out. In and out. The sounds of spit and his heavy breathing take charge of the room.

His body stiffens a bit and I can feel him get harder on my tongue. Deliberately I take him as far as possible and stay there until I make myself choke. The contracting of my throat around his thick head sends him completely off the rails. He breaks our bubble, throwing his head back to the ceiling.

“Mmm. Aw fuck!” A strong hand grabs a fistful of my hair, making it impossible for me to move. Thick ropes of his warm cum shoot down my throat and all around my mouth. “Ahh,” he groans out with a hiss jerking his hips forward a few good times. “Oh my god,” he blows out a heavy breath and lets his hands rest on his hips.

I’ve made dean’s list, honor roll all throughout high school, medals of all kind from track decorate the walls of my bedroom in my parents’ house. None of those accomplishments compare to the sight I just witnessed. The Roman Reign’s spent and sexually exhausted because of little ole me.

“Let me see,” he whispers while watching me suck the last of it out. I open wide and stick my tongue out so he can see his cum on it. His massive dick jumps at the sight. I feel the warmth of some of it seeping out and running down my chin.

“Don’t move,” he instructs. Like his obedient soldier I stay put, only looking around with one good eye. The other shut tight so none of his cum could invade it.

When he emerges again, he has a wet cloth in hand. Gently but still firm he wipes my face clean of him and my tears that slipped from the intensity of choking. Who knew the Tribal Chief is into aftercare?

A squeal escapes me from being lifted into the air and over his broad shoulder. I’m hanging as he moves us about. There’s no way that any of this is happening.

The shower starts to run. Even upside down I can see the marble walls and waterfall shower head raining down.

“You care about your hair getting wet?”

“No,” I strain to get out with his shoulder digging into my stomach. He chuckles so softly, I would’ve missed it if I couldn’t feel it from being on him.

He fucks me for hours in the shower. My back against the wall. In the air. Face against the tiles. On all fours again. I guess older men carry more stamina. The water cascaded from up top on us both while we locked tongues passionately, breathing in each other’s air.

He was in control the whole time. He flipped me every way he wanted me to go. Told me what to do, never asking. I’m left a wet, quivering mess at the end of it all.

I don’t realize how exhausted I am until he asks if I want to stay the night. I think about getting dressed and leaving, but the bed is impossibly plush and the sight of him naked still is impossibly sexy. Even better than I imagined.

I threw cuddling out the window once I seen his stoic nature and how he moved about earlier like this was just a business deal. He lays in the bed, still naked on his back with muscular arms slightly stretched. I lay on my stomach beside him trying to get comfortable. My heart thumps out my chest knowing he’s still here with me and so accessible. We literally just violated each other in the nastiest way possible and now we lay in bed not even touching.

His heavy breaths and light snore fill the room in no time creating a sort of white noise for me descend to.

Some time in the middle of the night, I don know how, but those light snores ended up right in my ear. His breath hot on top of my head, accompanied by a very heavy arm over my hip.

My heart smiled and my face caught fire. It was so intimate. Undeniably my favorite part of the night. I shifted as quietly as I possibly could, inch by inch, until I was facing him. His bun fell completely apart, leaving his dried and fluffy curls cascading over his shoulders and the plush pillows. I make out what I can in the dark of his sharp features. I never seen him so relaxed. In the ring he’s always tense, always painted with tyranny and stress, but not right now. He almost looked like an angel.

I make a mental image of him. This is exactly how I want to remember him— how I want to remember this unpredictable night. This is the part that even if I could tell it, I don’t think anyone would even believe me. Burying my face into his chest, I breathe deep, trying to imprint his smell into my brain like ink on the skin.

The loud voices of men I don’t recognize, serve as my alarm clock. Eyes still shut, flashes of the night before and the soreness of my body, warp me back to reality. Oh, shit.

I shoot up from the pillow to scan the room, keeping the covers close to my naked chest. His suitcase still stood in the corner, but there’s no trace of him. No water running. His slides are gone. The thick curtain shields me from the rest of the bus.

6:07 AM flashes on the digital clock of the now cleared nightstand.

It's not like I was expecting this grand goodbye. The man didn’t even say hello to begin with. I thought I could at least see him one last good time before I leave LA for good.

I attempt to rise up, but something crinkling under my palm stops me. I grab the sheet of notepad paper and rub my eyes before reading the contents of it.

Thanks for last night. Joe.

Short and simple. In the corner, two cursive R’s as a signature. I neatly fold the paper and drop it into the pocket of my jeans I find folded on the chest dresser. I want that paper with me everywhere I go. A small piece of the whole experience. A subtle reminder of the best night of my life.

Every part of me wants to feel bad. How could I let him just use me for his needs for a night and then discard me like it was nothing? I should feel low. Cheap. But thats not even the kind of girl I am. The glass is always half full to me. Last night was arguably the best night of my young life. I’ve never known such adventure. I never felt more free—more like a woman.

I flop down in my bed still in a daze from the events of last weekend. Demi had a million and one questions. The NDA kept me from spilling. Even if I could’ve given her a play by play of how the night went, I don’t think I would’ve. Demi and I have the kind of bond thats void of any secrets. But that night with him was so special to me, I want to keep it for myself. Something for just me and him. It makes it more magical when only we know what happened. I just want to soak and bathe in it all.

Light as a feather I stare at my ceiling, letting the flashbacks corrupt me. The feel of his soft skin. The smell of him. His grunts and pants. His hands caressing and gripping my ass. The warmth of his tongue filling my mouth. I blow out a breath getting worked up again. I’ve touched myself countless times since that night to the memory of his voice and his energy. He was just so damn good. So much man and dominance, but still gentle and cautious.

After we touched back down in New York, it was back to reality. But that didn’t stop me from walking on a cloud. You can’t tell me shit. I fucked the Roman Reigns. Drained him and swallowed the aftermath. How’s that for a spring break?

It's currently Thursday. Almost a week has passed since the greatest night of my young life. I just got back from the gym with Demi. She’s pressed me every single day since that night, but I won’t budge. The confines of the NDA keeping me stronger than I normally would be.

Tomorrow is Smackdown at the Garden, but it's unclear if Roman will even be in attendance. He takes so many hiatuses it's really a hit or miss with him. Demi asked if we should go, but I declined not wanting to spend the money I didn’t have just for him not to even show.

A sudden dread came over me knowing that he couldn’t possibly be thinking of me even half as much as I’ve thought of him. He’s overridden my mind. I’ve obsessed over every little detail and played it back a thousand times, while he doesn’t even know my name.

Paul said it himself. He likes the comfort of company while he’s on the road. All the times he has to travel for work, cameras in his face nonstop, and body aching from all the physical exhaustion, I’m sure he always has to release the tension somehow. I’m just one of many.

I knew that going into it. I know I’m not special, but I tried my hardest to be. I did what I could to make him remember me. Constant eye contact, carrying out his every command, throwing this ass back as hard as I could and sucking the soul out of him.

A violent buzz of my phone snaps me out of my daze. I feel for it on the covers. My eyebrows dent at the message notification from a number I don’t recognize, causing me to unlock it.

Your Tribal Chief has requested your services again.

Sorry for that long ass disclaimer lol. It’s a shame I even have to include that, but I literally watched a girl argue with an author on here about promoting adultery and cheating simply because a character was cheating. Like, it’s a story?? It’s a fictional character?? Don't read it??

If you read it or even just parts of it, I really am appreciative. Pls like or reblog. Feedback is greatly appreciated. Please remember I am an artist…and I’m sensitive about my shit lol 💋

banner credit: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

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shadamyheadcanons · 1 month ago

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i love that you don’t put sonic as a jerk in your headcannons but rather supportive! this is so cool, because sonic really wants all of his friends to be happy and with amy wouldn’t be different, specially since they’ve known each other since they were children and sonic himself said that she is a special/dear person to him so i agree he would be happy if amy and shadow got together. as much as i love sonamy, i also love shadamy (sorry for the long ask it’s just that is not that common seeing sonic being portrayed like this in some ffs)

Thanks for the compliment! This one means a lot because I think I’m actually harsher toward Sonic sometimes than a lot of modern shadamy writers are. I say “modern” because new “Amy goes for Shadow because Sonic is a jerk” stories are actually few and far between. It’s easy to think they’re all over the place because there absolutely are a lot of them, but the ones I run into are usually from, like...2012. If you sort by Date Updated on AO3, it tells a different story, pun intended. I believe there are three main reasons for this:

1. Since half of shadamy fans started shipping them in SA2 two and a half decades ago, a ton of us are in our 30s now, writing more mature stories with more fine-tuned characterization. This is one of the advantages of having an ancient ship.

2. It’s a tired trope. We’ve all read a million of them. Most people don’t like how Sonic acts in them for his sake, but my biggest gripe is that they undersell what Shadow has to offer. He’s not just good for Amy because he’s Not Sonic, he’s good for her because of who he is.

3. Sonic treats Amy much better than he used to. The reason “Sonic is a jerk” fics were so common 10-20 years ago is because he was a jerk, almost exclusively to Amy.

These fics exist because no other character works better than Shadow as an arbiter of justice for something that bothered a lot of Amy fans at the time.

More on this under the cut. Lots more. I got kind of carried away.

It’s easy to forget how bad Sonic was when we have games like Frontiers and comics like IDW and Mega Drive now:

Between new fans who aren’t as familiar with older games, longtime fans who haven’t looked at their history in a while, and fans who love Sonic and just don’t want to see him in a bad light, tons of people sweep his old behavior under the rug without even realizing it.

I don’t think any of that is fair to Amy.

A brief reminder of their dynamic in the past:

1. Constant abandonment. He ran from her in Sonic Adventure...

...Sonic Heroes...

And four times in SA2 alone! More on that later.

2. Standing her up on dates. This mostly happened in Sonix X...

[Episode 42, episode 45]

...but there was also Sonic and the Black Knight, where he didn’t show up, didn’t apologize, never made it up to her, and made no attempt to reschedule.

3. Uh...literally hurting her, for some reason...?

At the end of Sonic Riders, when he didn’t feel like properly handling a hostage situation:

Oh, welcome back, episode 42! Didn’t expect to see you again:

The new version of Sonic Generations altered this cutscene, thank god, but back in 2011, players saw this:

4. And the worst part of this, to me, is that he lets her get her hopes up. It’s not just the almost-dates he skips. Knuckles teases Sonic in Heroes, saying, “Are you playing with that girl’s heart again, Sonic?” It’s intended as a joke, but then he does things like this:

Sonic X, episode 52. You know what roses are, Sonic, you know how she’ll interpret this, and you know you won’t follow through.

I know I’m picking on Sonic X a lot, but it was pretty popular at the time, even among fans who didn’t touch the games or comics. This was how they saw these characters growing up, and it made its way into countless fics.

But even after all these years, no matter which continuity you work with...he still won’t give her a solid “no.”

Not liking someone back is fine. Not being interested in a relationship is fine. But letting her believe she’ll win you over if she chases you long enough isn’t, and that’s what he’s doing to this day.

Fans throw around the same tired old “justifications” over and over for why he is/was like this to Amy, but they don’t hold water. People say he’s mean because he doesn’t know what to do with his feelings for her, but he liked Elise, too, and he was nothing but kind to her.

(Putting this here because although fans don’t like to admit it, Elise was indeed intended to be a love interest. She and Amy are presented on par here, so if you think he likes Amy, then he liked Elise, too. You get exactly the same result regardless of who you choose for this trial.)

The other frequent “justification” is that he ran and lashed out because he was afraid of her, often accompanied by awful Amy hate (“stalker,” “psycho,” etc.). This also doesn’t work because Sonic was always harsh to Amy no matter how gentle she was. Classic Amy is the sweetest, most adorable little munchkin in the world...

...and he still ran away.

^ These are from the same exact comic, by the way: IDW Sonic’s 30th anniversary. Five pages apart. How in the world could anyone not want her around?

Amy had more spunk in Adventure and Adventure 2, but she was just as sweet, and he still treated her like a pest to be swatted. The ending of her story in SA1 is this:

But...why should she have to? He treats everyone else with the same baseline of respect, at least until they give him a reason not to. Why is it just Amy? He wasn’t just mean to her, he was uniquely mean to her. She didn’t act out until Heroes in 2003, when she’d already been ignored for years. Standing on the sidelines wasn’t working, so she tried being more “proactive.” Was it the right way to do things? No...but I honestly can’t hold it against her. It makes sense in context. She was a kid, and kids act out when they’re neglected.

And this is where Sonic Adventure 2 comes in.

SA2 was pivotal for Amy. Nearly everyone tossed her aside; Sonic left her behind four separate times in this game alone. First was right after she broke him out of jail on Prison Island. He ran off the second her back was turned:

Second, he and Tails both walked away from her after Eggman blew up the moon. She easily could’ve gotten arrested here.

Third, Sonic and Tails made a plan to stop Eggman right in front of her, blatantly leaving her out of it as if she wasn’t even there:

...which, if you’ll recall, led to Eggman holding her at gunpoint:

...and when Sonic set out to rescue her, this was his recap:

This does not work as a joke given how they treat her. He pretends she doesn’t exist to her face, then says this behind her back.

And immediately after that, when it was time for them to save the world, they left her alone again.

I can’t speak for anyone else, but I was furious by that point.

But then...something interesting happened.

A photoset or gifset can’t do this scene justice, but I think most shadamy fans have already seen it plenty of times. For the few who haven’t, you can watch it here.

The contrast between Shadow and Sonic is impossible to ignore. By building up this moment the way they did, the writers primed us to notice it.

Sonic runs from Amy’s hugs, while Shadow would like more of them, please and thank you.

Sonic pretends she doesn’t exist, while Shadow’s moved to tears and changes the course of his life because he values what she has to say.

Anytime they’ve interacted since then, he’s been uniquely respectful and gentle with her. It’s what she deserves, and for a long time, this was all we had. He was all we had.

The other half of the equation is that it is very, very easy to picture Shadow taking Sonic and the others to task for their mistreatment of her. As a blunt person who’s not afraid to confront Sonic, Shadow is the most believable candidate to this day. The only person to fully respect her from the start also happens to clash with the person who hurts her most often? Of course those fics exist. It’s a perfect storm.

And it’s no wonder that this attitude persists somewhat even now, because Sonic is still doing this, even if he’s “nicer” about it. That prison escape from SA2? The one he never thanked her for? He still gives all the credit to Tails for that, even up through Frontiers:

Amy. Amy broke you out of prison. Tails broke in, and then she snuck through a maximum-security prison, somehow stole a card key, and saved your life. We’re in the 2020s, but he’s still disrespecting her. And don’t get me started on the TailsTube Secret Santa episode.

It feels like Sega wants us to forget all of this ever happened, and it has some very confusing results. From that same Sonic 30th anniversary comic from above, the one where he and the others abandoned her:

Like...this? This is lying. He’s just lying to her. I can’t tell if they think we all collectively have amnesia or if it’s some weird, mean-spirited joke at her expense. I genuinely don’t know what they’re trying to say.

It’s not enough to pretend it never happened and move on, not to me. Sonic should be held responsible for what he canonically did. Him supposedly being bad with feelings didn’t make it hurt her any less, and he’s older than Amy, so he should’ve been the mature one.

The longer the writers keep this up, the worse Sonic looks, and I don’t think that’s what they’re aiming for. Ignoring the problem is not a solution. Amy might forgive, but I’ll never forget.

I just want to see a canon apology so I can reason out why she put up with it for so long. I want to at least be able to buy her having a crush on him. I can do that when he’s being selfless and heroic. I can’t do that when he treats her like the plague, and pretending he never did doesn’t match the Sonic I legitimately like. I bet a lot of s0namy fans would like to see a resolution like that, too.

Sorry to turn your thoughtful compliment into a rant. I really do appreciate it, and I’m glad you enjoy the stories!

#not a headcanon #shadamy #ask #guinhosletters #long post

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eetherealgoddess · 1 month ago

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Hii I’m not sure if you still take requests but if you do can you pleaseee write a story where a fem reader is working for bonten and her and the executives get assigned to k1ll this lady and her family that owes them money but the reader ends up feeling bad and she asks them to spare her but they say no and they don’t really care and they k1ll the family anyway and the reader is starting to realize that she doesn’t want to be in bonten anymore so she asks Mikey if she can quit and he tells her no and if she tries to run he will send the executives to punish her but she tired to run anyway and it ends up with a smut with Mikey and the other executives including kazutora. I hope I explained it right and if you do write it Tysmmm and I love all your work💋💋💋

ꨄNewfound Moralsꨄ

Oneshot - Dark Content - Bonten

❦You should’ve never joined them in the first place❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Kakucho, Kokonoi Hajime, and Haitani Brothers x Female Reader

❣︎I really hope you don’t mind but I’m gonna add a few lil twists to your request❣︎

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, WATTPAD, & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable.

✩Characters are 18+ as always.

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Newfound Morals

You don’t understand why you tried so hard to be promoted within the industry you signed up for. Honestly, working a regular job wasn’t that bad. As a people pleaser, you’ve always strived for perfection in order to receive the validation you crave. Unfortunately for people like you, opportunists loved to drink all the liquid from your glass without even filling it up halfway in return. You’ve never received what you felt you deserved for the time and effort you put into any craft or job you worked on. That’s why when you found the underground, illegal business through an old friend, you hopped on it immediately.

Who knew that the tense atmosphere of working for an illegal business would actually make you feel that excitement you craved? The fulfillment you craved, the recognition you asked for, all being solved each and every time you complete a task. The financial security you had always felt you deserved finally being handed to you. You honestly felt blessed. Blessed that Kokonoi Hajime, the man who you’d known most of your young adult life, had offered you this opportunity of fulfillment. You knew that you had to prove you were trustworthy and so you worked under him for a couple years before you were finally promoted to take action.

You didn’t know you could feel whole just by killing a bunch of useless individuals. The proud look on Koko’s face for recruiting someone like you, the pat on the back you received from Kakucho after your first successful mission, the sly compliments from the Haitani brothers, and the toast from Kazutora when he offered alcohol at the club to celebrate. Even receiving a pat on the head from Akashi Takeomi and a nod from Kanji Mochizuki. It felt great.

It was hard to get any other reaction from a sober Sanzu considering his sole focus on your boss, Mikey, but you knew there was progress when he’d offer you a pill for the first time in one of the Haitani brother’s clubs. You hadn’t accepted but the gesture was appreciated. Sano Manjiro never seemed to have any other expression on his face but an intense gaze full of nothing but pure darkness and despair. Though, his promotion of your department was a good sign. In a twisted way you finally felt seen by the higher ups.

All the kills had been super easy considering most if not all were some kind of conmen or had been involved with underground illegal shit that they couldn’t handle. A lot of the men you killed were shitty people who put their family in shitty situations as well as other criminal organizations who were classified as enemies.

Tonight, you were sent on a mission with Kakucho and Sanzu. It was your job to set everything in motion by breaking into the worn down starter house and shooting everyone inside while Kakucho watches the outside and Sanzu breaks in from the back to clear any traces or links from the guy who you all were after that leads back to Bonten.

Once you kicked the door in, you walked into the living room, gun raised and finger on the trigger, pointing at the people who sat inside. Your eyes widened at the display of the lady on her knees who had her hands up in surrender and the two children sat behind her. Something in your stomach drops at the new situation you’ve been dealt.

“I-it’s my husband isn’t it?” Her hands shook as you watched her face glisten with sweat and tremors. “I-I knew he had been into s-some shady business. H-he knew this would happen. He left us!”

You took the time to eye the surrounding area. The mess you hadn’t noticed before looked to be suitcases and duffel bags of clothes that were carelessly thrown in. It seemed like they had just started gathering their belongings.

“Where is he?” You question in a stern tone, attempting to ignore the children's whimpers.

“I d-don’t know! I would tell you because I hate him! He put o-our children in harm's way! Gambling some thugs money when I warned him! He didn’t care!” She cried out, tears freely streaming down her face along with snot. You could hear the congestion as she sniffed while speaking through her pleas.

“P-please just spare my children! Just kill me b-but don’t…! Pl-please don’t hurt my babies!” She whined as the children’s cries became louder.

Your hands shook as you held the gun. Your eyes were shot as your eyebrows were furrowed in concern. Your body is frozen in your spot as you can't fight off the feelings of guilt and sorrow for the lady and her children.

Quick thinking, quick thinking Y/n.

As you tried to come up with a solution that didn’t involve the children or lady dying, a loud shot echoed throughout the room, followed by another one before two thuds could be heard. All you could hear was a ringing in your ear and your heart beat as you eyed the blood of the children splattered against the floor and wall. You lowered your gun slowly as you watched Sanzu walking towards the lady and snatching her by the hair to face him while she screamed and cried out for her babies.

“Y/n.” You heard your name in the distance behind you repeatedly but you couldn’t be pulled out of your trance as you watched the mullet haired maniac put the barrel of the gun to the lady’s head with a bored expression before pulling the trigger, half of her head gone while the bits of brain scatter, and blood splatters. You were brought back to reality when you felt a tug on your shoulder.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Kakucho says before you finally face him with the bewilderment stuck to your expression.

“I-I…” You try to say something. Anything, but you’re left speechless.

“She was gonna bargain with them. I can tell.”

Suddenly, icy blue eyes are in your view as you blink. Sanzu crouches to your height before flicking your head, causing you to flinch and rub the spot.

“The King won’t be pleased. Knew ya couldn’t handle it.” He says before tsk-ing. Kakucho eyed you with confusion.

“Is that true, Y/n?” You could only look down at your feet.

“This is no good.” Sanzu gazed at you with half - lidded eyes though the manic glint was still prominent. “Guess ya don’t have it in ya after all.” He chuckled darkly before walking away. Kakucho could only stare at you in disappointment before turning away. For the first time since you started the job years ago, you hadn’t wanted to follow.

“What is the meaning of this, Y/n? Have you gone soft on us?” Takeomi questions as he leans back in his seat at the long table, leg crossed over as he sucks in a pull from his cigar.

“Obviously. Did ya cry?” Rin teased with puckered lips as he sat next to you

You gave him a scowl as you swat his pointed finger away from your face. Your face rested in the palms of your hands with your elbows planted at the end of the table.

“I knew I should’ve waited to put in that good word for you. Someone like you can’t handle something so complicated.” Koko says, mostly to himself with his head leaning on his fingers. Your eyes widen.

“S-someone like me? No, Koko I swear I can handle -!” You attempt to plead your case to your original supervisor, but Kazutora beats you to it.

“You sure about that?” He chuckled with his arms crossed in his seat, his hair falling past his shoulders. “Clearly if you could handle it, you would’ve.”

“This is concerning, Y/n. How can we trust you to do your job?” Kakucho questions with a disappointed look towards you, his seat next to the empty one that sits at the opposite end of you.

“Is Takeomi right, Y/n? Have you gone soft on us, hm?” Ran questions on the other side of you with his leg crossed over the other, limbs resting on the arms of the chair.

Everyone straightens up in their seats when they hear the door click open. Sanzu walks in first to hold the door open for Mikey before they both walk to their designated seats. Sanzu sat in the opposite chair of Kakucho and Mikey sat in the empty chair across from you. Anxiety heightened as soon as Mikey looked at you, causing you to look down at the table in fear of what he was going to say about your failed mission.

“Why?” Once you look up, all eyes are on you. Shifting in your seat with discomfort, you quietly clear your throat. The intense gazes of all the men boring into you felt suffocating.

“I didn’t think it was fair, Sir.” The room was filled with nothing but silence. Not even a pen dropping as they waited for the rest of your answer.

“I didn’t think it was fair for the family to die when it was her husband’s fault.” Especially in such a gruesome manner. It was very disturbing, and the worst part of it all was that it could’ve been worse.

“I don’t think it’s fair to fail your mission when you vowed to work for me.” Your eyes widened as your fingers tightened against the fabric of your pants. You began to sweat in your seat. Everything is beginning to feel too tight, too hot on your skin. The pressure is overwhelming and the glares aren’t helping. You’re in the spotlight of something you don’t want to be involved in.

“I deeply apologize for my inconsistency and inadequacy, Sir. It won’t happen again.” You’re praying you even make it out of here alive just for this one mistake. How could one situation cause you so much fear? You’ve been so caught up with the recognition and security that you completely forgot about what occurs when you fuck up. You could be put to death. This job is more than what you receive from it. It’s more than just following a routine correctly. It’s about survival. It’s a man-eat-man world, and you’re just waiting to be devoured.

Mikey commands you to get out of your chair and come forward. Sanzu stood next to him as he gave you an icy glare. You stand to the side of the table, but right in front of Mikey and behind Sanzu’s empty chair and bend over into a bow with your arms behind your back, awaiting his next command.

You hear footsteps walking around you before you let out a yelp as your head is yanked back, forcing you to make eye contact with your boss, Sanzu standing right next to your bent position with his fingers squeezing your scalp.

“Do you have something you want to say, Y/n?” Mikey questioned. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You shook your head.

“N-no Sir.”

“Koko, tell me.” Your eyes widen.

“What would happen if I decided to leave Bonten?” You asked Kokonoi the night of your mission, after having the display of Sanzu’s murders stuck in your head. You both sat in his office, the only light shining from the desk lamp. You were looking at the floor before you heard his footsteps in front of you. Fingers sternly wrap around your chin before he forces you to look up at him from your seat on the sofa.

“Don’t even think about it. Don’t speak about it, don’t ask about it, don’t even plan for it unless you want to get hurt, Y/n.” He hissed through his teeth. Neither of you noticed the icy blue eyes staring at you both through the glass door, listening to everything.

“Koko… I don’t like waiting.” Mikey teased in a stern tone with no expression on his face.

“What would happen if I decided to leave Bonten?” Kokonoi shook his head as some of the others shifted in their seats with widened eyes.

You bit your lip, knowing you were about to get it.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

You grind your teeth when the grip on your scalp tightens, sending shock waves of pain through your skull. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes from the sensation.

“I-I didn’t mean it! It was just a thought that crossed my mind!” You exclaim before a knee meets with your stomach, causing you to grunt and drop to your knees, Sanzu’s grip still tight on your scalp forcing you to continue facing Mikey.

“The King didn’t ask for you to speak.” Sanzu hissed.

All the men except Kokonoi and Kakucho were intrigued with the display, even the guys who wore bored expressions on their faces perked in their seats. The sound of a gun cocking had your eyes widening. Your body trembled as Mikey held the barrel right above the middle of your eyebrows.

“Should I grant your wish, Y/n?”

You shook your head violently as the tears finally fell.

“N-No Sir!”

“You sure about that?”

“I-I’m sure! I swear!” Your voice shook as you cried out. You couldn’t release a sigh of relief when he removed the gun that now sat on his lap in his hand. He looked down at you with those cold eyes.

“The only way you’ll be able to leave is once I kill you myself.” His eyes squint at the last word.

“Dismissed.”

You knew that you had to leave. You knew that you had to get the fuck out of there. Everything became too real after that moment. You were so caught up with the glitz and the glam that you forgot about the ugly that this job came with. How could you forget that you’re involved with Yakuza? You had already begun to pack up your stuff in your penthouse, rummaging through drawers and your closet. You already had the plan set. You were going to move to a country far from Japan and change every single thing about your identity. Before you could continue packing, you heard the elevator open and footsteps following.

“Fuck!” You hissed, eyeing all your stuff before shoving some of it under your bed and the rest in your closet. You had to make it look like everything was normal.

“Oi! Y/n!” You heard downstairs. You rubbed the sweat off your hands as you looked around the room before running downstairs.

“What are you doing here?” You eye Kazutora and the Haitani brothers in confusion. Ran went to sit on your couch with his leg crossed over while Rin rummaged through your kitchen for a bottle. Kazutora snatched a chair from the dining table and placed it in front of the arm of the sofa, sitting on it backwards as he leaned his head on his arms that lie on the back of the chair.

“Making sure you’re not up to something stupid.” The younger Haitani states before walking to the sofa and plopping down, pouring the bottle of liquor into a glass.

“What an entertaining show we got yesterday.” Ran smiled as he stretched out his arms on the back of the sofa.

“Honestly, I was at the edge of my seat.” Kazutora grinned. You growled as you made it downstairs.

“Hey! I didn’t say anybody could come over or rest on my shit!” You exclaim. You still felt embarrassed by yesterday’s escapades. You felt your face burn.

“Luckily, you didn’t have to. Mikey told us to.” Your eyes widen. Mikey? Why would he do that?

“He told me to.” Kazutora emphasizes the word ‘me’ while pointing at himself. “These two just came along.”

“It’s cause we’re bored.” Rin explains before taking a sip.

“Yeah, why don’t you entertain us like yesterday? Get on your knees.” Ran teased causing the other guys to laugh. Your face burned once more, this time anger forming as you snatched the bottle out of Rin’s hand.

“Maybe instead of killing you, we could ask him to make you something useful if you try to run.”

“Yeah, how about you become Bonten’s designated whore?” Your eyes widen at the disrespect.

“Such wasted potential. That should’ve been your position in the first place.”

“Get the fuck out of my house!” You grit your teeth as you point at the door.

“The house Bonten’s money gotcha? I don’t think so.” Kazutora shook his head.

Hours pass before they finally leave, you having been stuck in your bedroom trying to figure out a different time to leave. You decided to escape in the middle of the night, first meeting up with the guy who’ll give you a new identity and then buying the plane ticket with your new identity so they couldn’t find you. It’s a good thing you had sketchy connections before joining Bonten.

Kazutora switched shifts with Kakucho. You still don’t know why Mikey has them watching you. Why would he care when he’s so willing to kill you on the spot? wouldn’t it just be easier to shoot when the time comes?

Kakucho sat on the sofa next to you on the opposite side of the couch while your head leaned on the palm of your hand, elbow placed on the sofa’s arm.

“I have a feeling that you’re planning something, Y/n. I’m advising you not to do it if you want to keep your dignity.” Dignity?

“I’m not planning anything.”

“Y/n. It won’t end well for you.”

“I know, that’s why I’m not planning anything Kakucho.” A throbbing in your head forms, not only from dehydration but from the stress of the situation.

“Okay.” He states. You both sit in silence for hours until you turn your head to see that he has fallen asleep.

“Perfect.” You whisper. You quietly jog upstairs to gather all your belongings. After a while of gathering everything, you take one final look before grabbing your stuff and heading downstairs. A gasp leaves your lips as you see the pink haired demon smirking at you from below with his arms crossed and gun in his hand, as well as Kakucho awake with his head leaned against his fingers.

You immediately drop your luggage before attempting to make a run for the elevator, swinging all your weight off the railing. Shots rang leaving holes in your walls as they miss, though so close. Right when you were about to reach the machine, a sharp pain surges through your calf as you fall to the floor.

“Fuck!” You yell out, slapping the floor. Sanzu walks up to you before stepping on your back, pushing your weight against the floor as you lay there and take it.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna kill ya. I’m leaving it all up to Mikey.” He says before using the butt of the gun to slam against your head, immediately knocking you out cold.

Your eyes blink open slowly, a bright light shining above you, causing you to turn your head away. The pain in your leg causes you to groan out as well as the headache pounding against your skull. The cold air along with the surface under you causes you to look down in confusion. Your eyes widen when you realize you’re completely naked on the meeting table, arms above you strapped. Your knees immediately go to your chest as a way to cover yourself, completely forgetting that your bare vagina is out and can be seen in between your thighs.

You scream as your eyes make contact with the men sitting around the table like you’re a buffet on display for hungry customers.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” You cry out, tears bursting as you struggle against the straps. Your calf in pain from the sharp movements, but numbed out from the bandaging.

“I guess Mikey actually listened to my proposition, huh?” Kazutora says in awe while eyeing your body and crying face.

“Shoulda put a muzzle on her.” Takeomi says as he leans over in his chair to place a hand on the bottom of your thigh, spreading your vagina as he pulls the skin, cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth.

“STOP TOUCHING ME!” Your voice cracks as you struggle harshly against the restraints. A hand is placed against your wrists.

“Those were expensive as hell. Stop struggling and relax.” Kokonoi says. He’s honestly just thankful you’re not dead yet. Your eyes widened more when you felt nubs against your nipples. You look down at both of the Haitani brothers on either side of you gently twisting them in between their fingers.

“They’re so fucking hard.” Rin says with a straight face, mesmerized.

“Who knew you’d have such a nice body under that suit, Y/n?” Ran smirked. The feeling of the friction between their fingers and your nipples caused a shiver down your spine.

“It was a good idea to get the Bonten symbol tattooed on her chest.” Kazutora beamed.

Kakucho sat at the end of the table diagnol to where your head lies as he eyes the tears on your face. He ignored the tightness forming in his pants as he looked away.

You were hysterical. You didn’t stop crying until you all heard the door click and everyone removed their hands from your body. They sat back and awaited their Boss and his second in command. Your head leaned back to eye Mikey sitting next to Kakucho as well as Sanzu on his other side.

“Pl-please don’t kill me like this Mikey! I don’t want to die like this!” You whined as you pulled against the restraints once more. You were so hysterical that you forgot the honorifics. You wouldn’t know but hearing his name come out in the plea went straight to his cock.

You watched as he sat criss crossed on the table above you, in between your strapped arms, behind your head with a gun in his hand.

“Why shouldn’t I?” Your teary eyes met his dark gaze as he looked down on you. The room was silent, everyone anticipating what could happen next. You couldn’t answer considering you didn’t know what to say.

“Open your mouth.” Your eyes widen, as well as some of the other men. Is this how you’re going to die? Naked with no dignity and a gun down your throat. You had no choice but to comply. He slowly pushes the barrel past your lips as he glides it down your throat, you slightly gagging.

“Suck. Your life depends on it.” You whimper before sucking the barrel like it’s a toy cock. You hear curses under some of the males breaths. Mikey forced you to suck the gun as he slowly dragged it in and out of your mouth.

“When Sanzu unstraps you, I want you to prove to me why I shouldn’t kill you on the spot.” Your eyes shut tightly as you begin crying around the gun.

No way.

No way he’s going to humiliate you like this.

All these years of working under these men and doing a great job. All your hard work. All your efforts going down the drain. You realized how fake the recognition was. The validation. Maybe they knew all along how weak you were for praise.

You feel the tightening on your wrists loosen before you quickly cover your boobs with one arm and your vagina with your hand as your legs lie flat on the surface. He removes the gun from your throat slowly.

“Pl-please Sir. Don’t make me do this.” You whisper, holding back another sob.

“Y/n.” He says in a sing - song voice, yet his tone is flat. His head tilts slightly as he leans back on his hands.

You slowly sit up from your position, purposefully looking down as you try not to make eye contact with anyone even though you can feel their gazes burning into you. You bite your lip as you turn your body to face Mikey, sitting on your knees, minor pain striking from the injured calf.

“W-what do you want me to do?” You feel nothing but embarrassment and so much pressure. He uses the gun to tap at his crotch area, spreading his legs as he waits for you to make a move. You realize that if you proceed, you will have to bend over and your bottom half will be on full display. You swallow hard before getting in position. Tears continue down your face as you pull his pulsating cock from his pants. You are in disbelief that you’re actually holding your Boss’s cock in your hand.

“M-Mikey I can’t-.” The gun cocks against your head as you shut your eyes tightly before bending over, knees spread with your bottom half on display for the men who sat in the vicinity. You lower your head until your lips touched the head of his penis. You feel his cock twitch in your hands before you ease the entire shaft into your mouth, bottoming out with the head of his cock in your throat.

He let out a breath before laying the gun down and using that hand to place on your head before he whispers, “Good.”

The only thing that could be heard was the wet sounds of his cock rubbing against your tongue as your mouth engulfed his shaft, pulling your head back and forth in a steady pace. You accidentally released quiet whimpers when his hand would hold you against the base of his cock before releasing his grip.

The display had the other men heated as they watched you bob your head on their boss’s cock. Kazutora rubbed along his own bulge with a drawn out, quiet, “Fuuuck.” Ran had his face in his palms as he leaned over in his chair, fighting the urge to rub a finger up your wet slit.

“Goddamn.” Takeomi whispered with droopy eyes.

Rin watched the display with his arms crossed, becoming slightly impatient. When you and Kakucho accidentally make eye contact, you shift your focus away immediately and close your eyes, but within the second, you saw that lust had formed on his red face.

Kokonoi sat with his hands crossed on the table, eyeing your perked ass. He’s honestly in disbelief that the boss even listened to the proposition of those idiots. He could only hope you wouldn’t get killed after this whole ordeal. Though, if you do a good job maybe you’ll get to live. He continued to ignore the tightness of his pants as the escapade played out.

Sanzu eyed your teary face as you shoved Mikey’s cock down your throat. He couldn’t help but be turned on by the scene. His precious King using the seductress whore was a sight to see. He smirked when you opened your eyes and accidentally made eye contact with him, licking his lips in the process. The humiliation and sorrow on your face made him even more horny than before.

You finally felt Mikey’s cock twitch in your mouth before he held you down, nose to the base of his shaft as he released his semen down your throat, a quiet moan escaping him as his hips slightly lift up and teeth meet his bottom lip.

The hand shifts to the back of your neck before pulling you off of his cock. Saliva and cum drip down your chin as the tear stains dry down your face. You attempt to look down, completely humiliated and having a hard time looking at your boss but he tightens his grip and forced you to look at him.

“I own you til the day you die.” He frowned before pushing you back, causing you to fall on your back, legs spread from having to pull them from under you. You watch in horror as he climbed on top of you. Your knees are almost pressed against your shoulders as your hands reach his chest.

“M-Mikey! No!” You squeel as you feel the head of his cock enter you. You suck in a breath when he locks your thighs with his legs and his hands are placed next to either side of your neck.

“Holy shit.” Rin whispers to himself in excitement as all the men’s eyes widen at their boss about to fuck you.

“No, no, no! Don’t do this!” Suddenly hands grab your face forcing you to look back at Kokonoi standing above you.

“Shut up, Y/n! This is the best punishment you can get without losing your life!” You eye the desperate look in his gaze, the white hair draping over his shoulders. Your jaw hangs open in a silent scream as pain reaches through your core when Mikey shoves his cock all the way into your wet vagina.

“Ah! K-Koko it hurts!” You cry out from the lack of preparation. Some of the men almost moan out from your plea, completely turning them on. Suddenly, Kokonoi was pulled away from you as Sanzu took his place, his grip tighter on your face as he forced you to look at Mikey’s intense gaze.

“Look at your King when he’s fucking you!” He hissed with a manic look on his face. His hands hold your face in place as Mikey speeds up his pace. Kakucho watched as his testicles slap your ass, the wet noises going straight to the scarred face’d man’s dick.

“God she’s soaked!” Kazutora says after he got up from the chair to eye your pussy.

Your hands grabbed onto Sanzu’s forearms as Mikey’s cock began to hit your g-spot. Your mouth hangs open as your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your hips automatically buck up as your legs spread even more. You couldn’t stop the whining and moaning as the feeling burned your lower stomach.

“There ya go.” Sanzu whispered, thumbs rubbing against the corners of your mouth. The tip of the back of your head is pressed into the surface as Mikey continues to move his hips back and forth, grinding into you at a steady pace while he goes deeper and deeper, purposefully aiming to get you to cream on his cock. He feels the tightening of your core, slick oozing out of you as his precum leaks inside of you. He’s not very concerned about whether you’re on birth control or not. At this point he doesn’t even care if he breeds you.

He bites his lip, soft moans and grunts escaping him as he released a curse. He can feel himself edging closer and closer to release, but he wants you to finish first. He wants to feel your vaginal walls wrap around his cock tightly and milk him dry.

At this point, the Haitani brothers have been cupping and rubbing their bulges throughout the ordeal, their cocks tight against their pants as the feeling becomes too overwhelming to ignore. They want to fuck into you so bad, Y/n.

Takeomi relights the cigar that’s been sitting in his mouth to distract himself from his raging hard on. At this point he’s leaking against his underwear.

You finally release a guttural moan as your grip tightens on Sanzu’s arm, nails piercing his skin as tears fall from your face. Your head is turned to the side before the blue eyed man forced your head back to face Mikey. He cursed when your pussy tightened around him, your hips bucking as you orgasm hard against him.

“Shit.” He hissed, head dropping to your shoulder as he fucks into you hard and fast, the tightening walls sending him straight to the edge before he milks himself inside you, cum filling you up as some leaks out of your hole. You both breathe heavily as you lay there for a moment.

Sanzu released his grip on your face as Mikey sat up, pulling himself out of you as he climbs off of your exhausted figure. Your legs fall to the surface, the pain in your calf long forgotten as you lie there. After a moment of silence, you were fucked hard by each executive. Some fucked your mouth and some fucked your pussy. It was amazing that nobody ended up double penetrating you. Kokonoi and Kakucho were hesitant participants but they eventually received their fair share of your body. At least they were a lot more gentle than the rest.

Once the sun rose, you had been laying in the same spot, dried semen, slobber, and tears everywhere. Your body was littered with bruises and scars. If you would’ve known that beginning the job would’ve ended up like this, you wouldn’t have joined. At least you’re not dead.

“When you joined Bonten, you vowed your life to me.” You couldn’t move. Your eyes were barely even open and you wondered if that was a hallucination or not.

“You belong to me.” Your head turned to the side to face your Boss, lazily. A finger traced the tattooed Bonten’s symbol that’s placed right in the middle of your breasts.

“You’ve been demoted.”

Your breath hitched when you felt the baton at your entrance.

“W-wai-!”

Your scream echoed throughout the room.

228 notes · View notes

jazzthatonewriterchick · 6 months ago

Text

Ride ‘Em, Cowgirl! (Cowboy!Ace x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Ace D. Portgas x Black!Fem!Reader (Strangers to FWBs to Lovers)

Synopsis: As the author of some famous smutty romance novels, you decide to take a vacation in the countryside for a while to get over your breakup and work on your new book but you suffer from writer’s block. However, a meet-cute situation with a sexy farmhand who lives next door might be able to help you kill two birds with one stone.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+; Author!Reader; Cowboy!Ace; Sexual Tension; Highkey Flirting; Tongue Kissing; Oral (Giving & Receiving); Clit Stimulation; Doggystyle; Nipple Piercings; Cowgirl/Riding; Ace Puts His Hat on Your Head While You Take His Big D*ck; Dom!Ace/sub!Reader; Reader Cums 2x; Creampie; Strangers to FWBs to Lovers; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I’ve had a MAJOR cowboy brain rot all summer & decided to write something as the season is ending. I love me some Ace 🥺🥺 him & his big, silly, sexy ass…I miss him. He didn’t d*e in my universe. ENJOY LOVELIES!! 💋💋🫶🏾🫶🏾 -Jazz

**********

While the countryside is beautiful, the absence of reception is not.

You sit in the driver’s seat of your rental, the AC cranked up high though you’re still sweating from anxiety and panic. Your pits are perspiring despite the cute little sundress you threw on to match your sunhat and sunglasses. You felt like a movie star boarding the train here, but now, all of that feeling of glamor is gone.

A thrush forest and fields of land surround you on the dirt road you’ve been driving down for over fifteen minutes now since you got off the train that put you in the countryside. You had originally come out here to indulge in nature, thinking it would help clear your head for your new book and heal your heart over your recent breakup that caused your writer’s block.

You’re a city girl, born and raised miles away from here. Despite your cute little one-bedroom-one-bathroom studio apartment, you get tired of being surrounded by skyrise buildings and smoggy streets when you write. You thought a change of scenery would do you some good, especially to distract you from the sight of the same couch and bed where your ex used to make love to you on.

But now, after seeing nothing but trees, grass, and cows for the past five minutes since you got lost, you’re becoming sick of it. You haven’t seen a single person or building since the train station!

“Dammit,” you huff, begrudgingly tossing your phone into the passenger’s seat with your laptop case and suitcase. You hate getting lost! You must’ve taken a left instead of a right and then steered off the trail your GPS set for you.

You keep the AC and gas running as you get out of the car. The heat immediately slaps you in the face and the sun glares at you, causing you to slide your sunglasses on top of your head used to hold your braids back onto your eyes. You shield the hot rays with your hand and look down the road. Nothing. Not even a barn. You’re completely stranded.

No people. No reception. You were never going to make it to that sweet, quaint little Airbnb you rented. You were scrolling on Booking.com you’ve seen so many commercials for three weeks ago when you came across the little cabin with central air, a wine cellar, and a back patio overlooking a lake. It is only ten miles from town and near some hiking trails for running.

You booked it immediately and spoke to the owner, a sweet Southern widow who let you rent it for the entire week for a cut because of your books. “I love your work!” she gushed over the phone. “I’m so honored you’re choosin’ my little home to help you write a new book! I’ll stack more wine in the cellar just for you!”

You may never get to enjoy that wine, the lake, or some sunbathing on the patio. You lean against your carhood, hopeless and exhausted. Maybe this will be a good inspiration for your book: a city girl gets lost in the countryside and realizes that a change of scenery can’t fix heartbreak. Then she dies of a broken heart (and starvation) in her rental and when someone finally finds her, she’ll be nothing but bones because the cows ate her.

There your whacked-out mind goes. You tilt your head to the sunny, blue sky, hoping God can see you and have mercy on your soul. “God,” you groan. “Please just send me someone.”

“Hey, there!” a sudden cheery, male voice chirps from behind you. You shriek and jump, turning around to face the stranger. “Shit!” you gasp, putting a hand on your jumping heart. “You scared the hell outta me!”

When your heart finally settles down, you realize just how cute the stranger is. He is tall and fit judging by how tight his black V-neck is under his flannel. A cowboy hat hits low on his nest of black curls and an adorable smattering of freckles adorn his cheeks. His jeans are just as tight with a large belt buckle on the front of his leather belt and his cowboy boots are scuffed.

It’s like he stepped out of a girl’s wettest Western dream, especially with the dog tags hanging from his thick neck and the leather bracelet on his wrist. He is hotter than the sun you’re standing in.

“Apologies,” he says, stifling a chuckle with his hands up. “I promise I don’t mean no farm. I just happened to see you just sittin’ here on the road and couldn’t help but wonder if you’re stealin’ my job.” His brown eyes are filled with humor and playfulness.

“Job?” you parrot, confused. “What are you—“

Suddenly, the hot stranger places two fingers on each hand in his mouth and blows a loud, shrill whistle. Immediately, each of the cows grazing in the grass and wandering in the road gather together near him. “C’mon, y’all!” he shouts. “Over here by the pretty truck! Out of the pretty lady’s way!”

You flush at his compliment but don’t focus too much on it. You’re too busy focusing on the cherry red pickup truck with the muddy wheels that you now see some yards behind your rental. How did you not hear him drive up?

The cows follow the cowboy and surround his truck, mooing and chewing. He leaves them there and comes running back to you, panting. “Sorry ‘bout that. Them cows ain’t too bright sometimes. One left the farm down the road and all of ‘em followed, so I got sent out to get ‘em.”

“Oh,” you say. “Well, that takes care of one problem. Thanks.”

He raises one eyebrow, curious. “One problem?” he ponders aloud. “Anything I can help you with, miss? Tell me if I’m wrong but ya look kinda…” He pauses, looking for the right word.

“Lost?” you sigh. He sniggers, shaking his head. “Distressed.” You take a moment to think about this. You really shouldn’t tell him since he’s a total stranger despite his cute freckles and eyes that remind you of a puppy’s. “Well, I am,” you sigh. “But nothing I can’t handle. Thank you again, Mr. uh….”

The cowboy smiles brightly at you and it’s like a punch in the face. He is quite handsome. “Ace,” he replies. “Ace D. Portgas. No, ‘Mr’, please. Just Ace.”

He puts out one of his big ringed hands for a shake. You slowly take it in your smaller one, noticing how calloused and rough his palm is…and how warm and strong it is. “Ace then,” you say, quickly pulling away. “Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N L/N.”

Ace’s eyes fill with recognition immediately at the sound of your name. “The writer?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. You immediately break out into a smile, happy with the recognition. “So you’ve heard of me.”

He nods, shoving a hand in the pocket of his jeans. “Yeah, your stuff is pretty popular with the female population over here. I’ve seen some of your books in the town’s local bookstore before. Where ya from?”

“[City Name],” you reply, beaming from the newfound information You always love to hear about people loving and reading your work. Ace hums, nodding in understanding. “Ah, so you’re a city girl,” he draws, his Southern accent making a big appearance here. It makes something in your stomach grow warm.

You place your hands on your hips, pursing your lips. “Are you about to give me that ‘the country is better than the city’ crap?” you playfully scoff.

Ace gapes at you, playing into your mock disagreement. “What?! No way….except we’ve got better people.” You laugh, giving him that one. “Oh, that I agree with! Everyone here is so nice!”

Literally everyone. The train conductor, the workers at the train station, the nice man who held the door for you…maybe even this sexy cowboy. It must be the clean air and environment without the buildings, hustle, and crowds of people. “So what’s a talented gal like you doin’ all the way down here?” He curiously asks. “Ya got family here?”

Despite your situation, you find yourself enjoying conversing with Ace. It’s easy, unlike with your ex. “I’m writing a new book at the Airbnb I rented…which I’m no closer to getting to ‘cause I can’t follow directions.”

Ace’s smile fades. “Really? Where’s it at? Maybe I can help ya get there.” Your blood pressure rises as your brain begins to go through every possible reason to not give this man the address to your weekend home. “Um….”

Realization flickers in Ace’s eyes and he nods in understanding. “I get it: stranger danger. If ya want, I can tell you the directions and let ya drive off. Promise.” He puts his right hand up as if he’s on the stand at a trial. “I only wanna help a celebrity out.”

His friendly smile and nature seem genuine despite that twist in your stomach telling you differently. However, you don’t hear any warning signs blaring in your head and your gut isn’t giving you that kick of intuition. Throwing caution to the wind, you tell him: “It’s on 21 North Oakwood Lane.”

You watch as Ace’s eyes widen in excitement like a kid on Christmas. “Forreal?! That’s where my farm is at! I bet my neighbor is the one you’re rentin’ from! Mable Chestnut ring any bells?”

Your brain immediately reacts to the Airbnb owner’s name. “Yeah, that’s her!” you exclaim. “You live there too?” He nods, beaming brightly at you. “Yes, ma’am, and you’re a long way away from that, honey. You must’ve taken a wrong turn completely.”

You huff, feeling the stress return. Of course, you took a wrong turn. Unbeknownst to you, Ace feels bad for the pretty woman standing in front of him and instantly wants to make her feel better. So he clears his throat, gaining your attention. “I’ll tell ya what: if you want, I can hop in my pickup truck and lead you to your place. I know these trails like the back of my hand.”

“I’m sure you do,” you reply, laughing slightly. “You’re a cowboy, aren’t you?” His lips twist in a lopsided smirk that makes your insides curl. “Yes, ma’am. That and a farmhand. I wrangle horses, cows, bulls, anythin’ you can think of. My job requires that I know the ins and outs of my town.”

You can tell he’s telling the truth, but the logical part of you is still wary. “I dunno,” you admit, awkwardly playing with the hem of our dress. “I mean, you seem sweet and legit, but I barely know you and—“

“Oh, you found ‘em!” a voice rings out. You turn, seeing a blue truck with a wooden crate stopping next to Ace’s truck. An older couple with silver-white hair and matching boots come sliding out of the front, looking relieved to see their cows. The wife, in her flowery skirt, whistles at the cows. “My precious babies! Get y’all asses on that damn truck!”

She begins berating them as the animals climb up the wooden ramp to the cart, piling in one after the other. Her husband, wearing jeans, flannel, and a cowboy hat, helps her by whistling to them. Once they’re all in, he locks the crate and walks up to Ace with his wife, giving you a hello as they do. “Oh, Ace, what would I do without you?” The wife sighs, taking the young cowboy’s hand in her wrinkled ones. “I’ll have to bake you more of that apple pie to thank you.”

Ace smiles, tipping his hat at them. “It’s no problem, Mr. And Mrs. Phelps. Just doin’ my job.” Mr. Phelps pats him on the back, laughing. “Well, you prove to be fit for your job every time, young man.”

“I’ll deliver the pie tomorrow,” Mrs. Phelps says with a wink. “You still live at 20 Oakwood Lane?” Ace nods and thanks them before the old couple walk back to their truck, get in, and go driving off with their cows in the back.

He turns back to you, a smug smile on his face. With defeat, you give in to his proposal. “Okay, fine,” you sigh. “We’ll try it your way.”

He grins, bowing slightly in thanks, grateful for you putting your trust in him. But it ain’t like you’ve got a choice at this point. But if you had said no, maybe he would’ve called the cops or something to help you. He seems like a genuine, sweet type of man…but then again, you thought the same about your ex before he cheated. “I won’t letcha down, missy. Now let’s getcha to your luxury suite!”

He turns and races off to his truck. As he does, the back of his flannel floats up, giving you a peek of his backside. Your mouth waters at the sight of his plump, firm ass in those jeans. Maybe you will have a nice time here after all.

After getting in your car and following Ace’s truck down the road, he takes you in the right direction that your GPS states. You decided to turn it on just to make sure Ace wasn’t taking you somewhere else. The drive is only eight minutes and finally, trees fall away to a beautiful clearing of brick homes and farms down a dirt road.

You finally come to your Airbnb and it’s just as cute in real life as it was in its photos. The white tiled roof and window outline combined with the buttery yellow color of the outside of the house reminds you of a frosted cake as you park your car in front of it. The house is located on ten acres of land that the owner owns and tends to, including a fruit orchard that you most definitely will enjoy tomorrow.

You go up to the azalea bushes planted at the white picket fence surrounding the cobbled stone walkway and steps. Bending down, you move one of the stones–a gray one shaped like a heart–and take the house key from under it. Ms. Chestnut made sure to tell you where to find it before she left.

Clutching the key to your chest, you turn and find Ace lugging your bags out of the backseat of your car, including your laptop case. As he does, you watch as his arms flex enticingly so. He has taken off his flannel, probably too hot in the afternoon heat to wear even the lightest of long-sleeved tops.

“Aaaand here we are,” he announces, bringing the luggage up to you. You go to take your suitcase, feeling bad for his work. “Oh, you don’t have to—“

“Nonsense! It’s barely heavy for me.” He gives you a wink before nodding at the locked door, looking just as excited as you.

You snort and unlock the door, giving way to a gorgeous living room with hardwood floors and a sunroom that meets an expensive-looking dining room filled with fine China dishes. On the left is an older-looking kitchen with a cartoon cat cuckoo clock and an adorable fruit-shaped cooking set and a washroom that leads outside to the back patio.

Ace whistles approvingly, looking around the house. “Beautiful place. I can see why ya rented here to write your new book. What’s it about, if I may ask?” He runs his boots on the ‘Welcome’ rug at the door before coming in with your luggage. He hands you your laptop before placing your suitcase and bag down gently on the floor.

You don’t know why you tell him, but something inside you tells you that it’s okay to do so: “Heartbreak.”

You watch as the cowboy pauses and then slowly turns to stare at you. You clear your throat to appear neutral and blasè like your past relationship and how it ended don’t still sting. “I didn’t just come here to write,” you explain. “I also came here to clear my head over my recent breakup. Working helps.”

Ace’s expression is unreadable. He stands with his hands in his pockets, his jaw working slightly. You now can see that he’s chewing gum. “Long term?” he asks. You nod, fighting back tears. “Three years.”

Three years of what you thought was the beginning of forever for you. You had met his parents; took trips with him; moved him into your apartment a year after you started dating. It was so nice when he came home to you after his shifts as a lawyer, the both of you snuggling with takeout and puffing on some weed to calm the nerves. You loved those nights with him.

But then those nights became ones of loneliness and suspicion when he wouldn’t come home till the AM. You started fighting and growing more apart until one day, while he was showering, you answered his phone on a call meant for him. Clearly, because the girl on the other line was asking you if you were still on for her place that night thinking you were your man…who apparently wasn’t just your man.

After denying it, he admitted to sleeping with his coworker for two months. “You were so busy with your books!” he had argued. “I needed you too, Y/N!”

Of course, that didn’t fly with you. As a grown-ass man, he was more than capable of communicating with you and never did. So, after three years, you ended your relationship and he moved out within a week. Learning to live without him is more than hard, but you’re learning with every step.

Ace whistles as if winded by your answer. “I’m very sorry to hear that, but one thing I know is that you won’t get no clearin’ your head out in the city. No offense.” He gives you a joking smile that brightens the room. “None taken,” you giggle. “That’s why I came out here.”

He nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “That was a good idea. You may never wanna go home though.” He stands there like a tall, sexy tree you’d like to climb. His personality and energy only make your attraction to him much worse.

You don’t know if he feels the tension in the air too, but his smile fades and his eyes fill with a spark you think you just imagine. Finally, he clears his throat and plasters on a smile. “Well, I’ll leave ya to it then. If you ever need anythin’, just gimme a knock across the way.”

You walk him to the door and he points down the road at a small ranch with a red barn where you hear distant neighing horses. “That little ranch next to the red barn is me,” he explains. You could walk there with how close he is. Knowing that makes your stomach twirl.

All you can do is nod and he bids you farewell before walking down the steps in his boots. You watch him, eyeing his flexing back muscles, suntanned shoulders, and the dusting of freckles on his skin like star constellations. He is almost down the road when you give in to your urges.

“Ace, wait!” you call. He stops, turning to face you. “Do you have a CashApp? Or I can pay you in cash.”

But the cowboy shakes his head, smiling at you. “Keep it,” he says. “Just lookin’ out for a pretty woman.” He tips his hat at you, that spark returning in his eyes. “Enjoy your stay, Y/N.”

Then he turns and walks off, taking that beautiful back and juicy ass with him. You decide right then that you’ll definitely enjoy your stay here with that cowboy being just one knock away.

*********

“Fuck, Y/N, you are soooo lucky!” Nami whines into your ear. “I wish I was laying out in the sun by the wate with my tits out too!”

“My tits aren’t out,” you snort. “I’m just in a bikini top.” You take a sip of your Moscato chilling in a glass of ice cubes and sliced oranges, sighing peacefully at the crisp, fruity taste.

Placing it back on the small table with your laptop, you look down at your phone screen where your beautiful, redheaded friend’s face is. It is the next day of your writer’s vacay and you’re spending it stretched out on the back patio in your bikini and sunglasses, lounging on a beach chair near the lake that sparkles and shimmers in the summer sun.

“That still counts!” Nanami argues. “You’ll get a tan for days! Why couldn’t you take me with you?” You scoff, rolling your eyes behind your ray bans. “Girl, aren’t you on an anniversary trip up in the mountains with your woman? Your Airbnb is just as beautiful as mine, plus you got a great view!”

Nami, your best friend and soulmate, is out in the mountains with her long-term girlfriend and soon-to-be-fiance, Robin who is so beautiful that you swore you had a crush on her when you first met her.

Both, along with a couple of other friends you’ve made over the years, surrounded you with love and support during your breakup. Zoro and Sanji, the married couple you’ve been tight with since you moved into your complex, even told you they’d beat your ex up if you asked them to. Of course, you said no, but you fantasize about it to make you laugh.

“Yeah, but it’s raining here,” Nami sighs, laying back on a pillow. “We’ve been cooped up in the house all day, but we do have a dinner reservation at a five-star restaurant tonight that’ll make up for it. She knows how to make me happy.” She breaks out into a dreamy smile you know all too well about.

“You’re so lucky,” you sigh, envious of your friend’s love. “You guys have been together for a long time though. Five years! That’s crazy!”

Nami nods, still looking in love and happy. “And it takes a lot of work, but there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. You’ll find that again, too Y/N…with the right person, of course. That scummy ex of yours was just a closed door.”

You peer out over the water, seeing a sliver of Ace’s farm through the thrush, green forest. From this angle, you can see the wagging tails of horses in their shed and hear the crowing of roosters. “I guess,” you sigh.

As if reading your mind, Nami discusses the man who has been on your mind since yesterday. “Well, how ‘bout you do some practice on that cute cowboy you told me about?” she suggestively purrs. “You are there for a week. Why not use it to dust off that–”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” you cut her off, putting up a hand. “I’m not having any kind of sex with a stranger, no matter how cute or sweet he is. Besides, I don’t even know how old he is! He could be a fuckin’ teenager for all I know.”

Despite you making logical excuses for not going over to his house and hopping on that man’s dick right now, you still can’t stop yourself from thinking about him. Yesterday afternoon, you went out into town to shop for some cute dresses and groceries for meals (including the wine), thinking this would help distract you from nasty thoughts of him.

But alas, when night fell and you finished your glass of wine and your much-needed blunt to end the evening, your dreams were all about him whispering dirty, sweet nothings to you in his Southern drawl while he bounced you on his cock. You were so pent up that you had to relieve yourself with the toy you packed and then take a cold shower…both did NOTHING to tame you.

You want him bad. You’ve never felt such an attraction to someone before. Not since your ex, anyway. It’s exciting but also alarming. Your plan wasn’t to use a man to get over your breakup or writer’s block. Speaking of which, you haven’t written much of a first draft for your book yet. You most that you’ve gotten is a plot outline and you feel even that is lackluster.

“Well, who is he?” Nami pushes. “You didn’t even tell me his name!” You once again roll your eyes and lower your voice as if the cowboy can hear you over the lake: “It’s Ace D. Portgas.”

Nami’s eyes widen and her jaw drops. “Omigod!” she squeals into your ears, making you jump. “Y/N, I know him! You remember my friend Luffy’s adopted older brother? The one who owns his own farm?”

Your mind traces back to the moment any of this was revealed to you and you realize that it was a year ago during a trip to the zoo where Luffy gushed over the horses and said his brother trains them. “Oh, my God, that’s him?!” you gasp, laughing in disbelief. “The wealthy one? What a small world!”

“Now you have a reason to talk to him, girl!” Nami encourages you. You go over to his place, ask him for a drink, and spend the rest of your trip in his bed…and then you’ll take me on a cruise when he cuffs you.” She winks at you, but you know she’s serious.

“That’s not gonna happen,” you chuckle. “He’s a nice guy, but I didn’t come here to hook up with no cowboy. I came here to relax and write my book.” The redhead pulls a look, rolling her eyes. “And what better way to do all of that than get with a country boy? Besides, that would make for a great story.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you suggestively.

“Whatever,” you scoff as she giggles. “Just go and tell Robin I said hi. And if I do happen to build a relationship with the cowboy, she’ll be the one I take on a cruise.” Nami, with her dramatic ass, gapes at you. “Take that back!”

“Love you, byeeee!” You blow her a kiss before ending the FaceTime call and lowering it facedown on the table to avoid the sun burning the screen. You take another sip of your wine and then hunker back down to your book that you’re no closer to outlining.

So far in the plot, a woman named Suzi has received notice of a house she has inherited from her deceased grandmother whom she realizes has many secrets, including setting her up to marry Johnson, a wealthy owner of a wine garden that her grandma somehow knows.

But all those ideas go down the drain when you happen to look up and see the man who has been haunting your frequent dreams. And he’s shirtless. Though his back is to you, that doesn’t mean Ace’s back doesn’t make your stomach flutter like it’s filled with butterflies. He is busy tending to his horses, filling their drinking station with fresh water and cleaning out bails of old hay. His arm and back muscles flex in the sun that glints off of the sweat dripping off of his tanned skin. “Oh, fuck,” you exhale.

He’s a beautiful, beautiful man. You can almost taste the sweat off of his skin as you lick up his skin and neck. His back is tatted with a purple skull with a bone caught between his teeth. Your body reacts just as your mind does, arousal making you throb. “Dammit,” you sigh, slamming your laptop closed. You definitely can’t write in this condition. This man is making everything too damn hard for you!

Now you know another distraction won’t do anything for you. You need to just swallow your pride and fear of rejection, and just go over there!

To not make it seem like you just came straight out the house to see him, you go inside to strip off your bikini and change into some sneakers, running shorts, and a sports bra that holds up your girls. You take your phone and house key with you before cutting through the woods for a short time towards Ace’s place, lightly jogging as you do. The sun glints through the trees and sweat begins to gather on your forehead and under your boobs.

Finally, you cut through the woods to the front of Ace’s house and nearly scream at the sudden sight of a caramel-colored horse galloping in front of you, nearly knocking you over. “Suzi!” Ace calls. “Dammit, don’t run in the street!” He whistles, causing the horse to stop before she gets any farther away and flips her tail.

You turn, finding the shirtless cowboy standing behind you. You nearly combust at the sight of his cut abs, the silver bars in his pink nipples, and the scattering of tattoos on his skin. One is of a skull engulfed in flames on his shoulder and the others are two names inked across his wrists.

“Oh, hey!” he chirps, looking happy to see you despite your short-circuiting brain. “What a surprise. You decided to take a break to come see little ol’ me?”

He puts his hands on his hips, drawing your eyes to his V-line. “I-I was just takin’ a jog,” you stammer. “And I just wanted to thank you again for helping me yesterday. Sorry I was so hesitant.” Ace looks happy nonetheless and you think you even see his eyes quickly trace over your outfit. “Don’t even apologize. You enjoyin’ yourself so far?”

He snaps at Suzi who comes tottering up to him, her hooves clicking. You nod, admiring the pretty steed. “Yeah, you’ve got a nice little home here. Went out shopping yesterday and did some writing today.”

The cowboy nods, petting Suzi’s side. “Uh-huh, I saw you soakin’ up those rays earlier…n-not that I was starin’ at you! I just happened to look over and see you.” His face grows adorably red at his jumbled words. It only makes him more endearing to you.

“I get it,” you giggle. “I came over to pay you for yesterday, but if you still aren’t gonna take my money, maybe I can pay you back with lunch or a drink?”

The words just slip out, possibly because of how confident you feel over Ace’s blush and nervous blunder. You don’t know what you expect, but definitely not what he says next:

“Oh,” is all he replies with.

The silence that follows makes you want to die. “O-Or not if you’re busy,” you quickly add. “Or if you don’t want to! I just wanted to repay you.” You bite your lip to shut yourself up, feeling as if you never should’ve said anything. That damn Nami! Why did she have to encourage you to do this?

But as luck would have it, Ace agrees. “I was gonna say yes to lunch, but I’m a little booked right now with the farm. I’ve got people tourin’ my place tomorrow, so I need to make sure it sparkles. Does dinner work better for ya?”

The horse’s tail flips as if to say, ‘Say yes, stupid!’ and you nod, speechless. “Dinner sounds great,” you reply, doing your best to not break out into a big, goofy smile. The caramel horse softly winnies and Ace snorts, patting the horse’s behind. “This is Suzi,” he chuckles. “She’s extremely dramatic. I got two other ones at the stable.”

You smile at the horse, admiring the way her blonde mane looks in the sun. “She’s beautiful.” Unbeknownst to you, Ace admires you admiring the horse. “You like horses?” You nod, gently patting Suzi’s soft fur. “Love ‘em. I wanted to be a cowgirl every Halloween.”

“You wanna see the others? I can give ya a tour of the farm, if ya want.”

“Alright, alright, we’re comin’!” he calls. “And these are my Stallions, Sam and Sabo, named after one of my brothers. He lives all the way in London workin’ as an actor.”

“That’s amazing.” “They look like they need a brush, poor things.”

“It’s the heat. They shed a lot in the summer.” “Why don’t you let me?” you ask. “You seem so tired. Don’t worry, I pick up fast.”

“Just slowly brush their sides,” he explains, motioning his hands as an example. “It relaxes them. And don’t worry about scarin’ em; they’re well-behaved and they love attention.” “Hey, there, boy,” you coo. “I’m just gonna brush you.”

“Not bad for a city girl,” he whispers in your ear. “Oh, so you got jokes now,” you scoff. “Well, your horses seem to like me more than their owner. I think that proves I’d make a great cowgirl.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asks. “You ever ridden one before?” “Uh…no,” you hesitantly answer. “Not since I was six at a petting zoo.”

Ace gives you a smile full of mirth and trust. “You wanna try now?”

You have no idea what propels you to say yes, but suddenly find yourself standing beside Sabo in the open field while Ace straps a leather saddle on his back. He then turns to you and opens his arms. “I’ll help ya up,” he says, flashing you a smile. “And if ya ever feel uncomfortable, I promise you we’ll cut the ride short.”

“There we go,” he huffs. “Now up I go.” With a grunt, he carefully hoists himself up on Sabo’s back and straddles the seat behind you. You bite your lip at the throb you feel between your thighs at the feeling of his strong arms coming around you to hold onto the reins with you. His thighs and chest brush against your back, the scent of sweat and pine rolling off of him.

“Now, gently tug on the reins twice and click your tongue,” he instructs. Nervously, you do as he says, his presence a comfort for you. You wouldn’t know what to do with this big-ass horse alone. Sabo slowly begins to walk in the field, taking a languid pace that is relaxing and not at all as scary as you thought.

“See?” Ace laughs. “Not bad, right? You can use the reins to steer him or go faster, just like a car. If ya want him to stop, just tug on the reins once. If ya wanna go a little faster, just snap the reins so he’ll totter, like this.”

He helps you give them a slight snap and Sabo picks up the pace. You gasp as you feel his back jump with you and Ace on top, your body instantly tensing.

“Hang on,” he chuckles. “It’ll get a little bumpy.” You side-eye him, your heart about to explode out of your chest. “A little?” you scoff and that makes him laugh even harder.

His thumbs begin to stroke your knuckles, trying to calm you down. “You’re so sense, sweetie,” he coos. “I promise you’re okay. Just enjoy the ride.” His voice is soft and reassuring, only arousing you more.

However, despite the images of him fucking you stupid in your mind, you fight against your visceral reaction to change and relax. “Good, good!” he praises. “You really are a fast learner! Good boy, Sabo! Take us home!”

Sabo turns around and totters back to the farm, bouncing you on top. You giggle, feeling free with the sun and wind in your hair. When Sabo comes to a stop, Ace jumps off first.

He holds out his arms for you and you reach down, clinging yourself to him as he takes you off of the horse. Once your feet are on the ground, you sigh, relieved, but an underwhelming feeling descends upon you at ground level again. It was exciting being on Sabo’s back above ground, but you think most of the thrilling, excited feeling you got was from Ace being so close to you.

“Nicely done, city girl. I knew ya had it in ya to ride a horse.” “Well, it helps when I’ve got a great teacher, country boy,” you giggle, but it comes out way more seductive than you meant it to.

Thank goodness the splashing sounds of the horses slurping down their water stops you because who knows what would’ve happened? “Uh…drink?” he sheepishly asks. “I’ve got fresh lemonade in the fridge.”

But as soon as you’re in the house, Ace suddenly whirls you around to face him and grabs you before his lips finally mesh with yours. You make a small noise of surprise as he twirls you around, but it quickly melts into a soft moan as his soft, juicy lips press against yours. They are just as heavenly as you thought they’d be. The kiss is tentative and careful at first, but the more you press into him, the more passionate and open Ace becomes.

His tongue slowly licks your bottom lip and you part your lips, granting him access. The taste of whiskey on his tongue and the wet, sucking sounds of your heavy makeout make your shorts feel tighter and your nipples hard under your bra. Ace’s hands caress your back while your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer until you’re sharing the same air.

When he pulls away, he is softly panting and his eyes are ablaze. “Sorry,” he pants. “I just couldn’t resist. I’ve been wantin’ to do that since yesterday.”

You smile, leaning in to peck his lips again. You can’t get enough of him now that you’ve had him. “Don’t apologize,” you whisper. “I have, too.” Oh, and have you!

Ace smiles, looking pleased to hear this. You’re just as happy to know that he’s been sweating over you the way you have been for him since yesterday. “You’re here for a week, right?” he huskily asks and you nod, too afraid to speak. You don’t want to ruin this.

His big hands slide down lower and lower until they meet your ass. Finally. “Then if it’s alright with you, darlin’, I’d like to make your first time out in the country one you’ll never forget. If this is just a summer fling to you then that’s cool. I just wanna make you feel good and make ya forget all about that asshole ex of yours back home.”

The passionate promise burning in his eyes is too tempting to resist. You run your hands down his chest, feeling him up and letting him know just how much you want this. “I’d love that,” you purr. “Now kiss me again, cowboy.”

Ace doesn’t need to be told twice. Immediately, his lips sweep yours up again as he grips you to him, his hands caressing your thighs. You’re so deep in his kiss that you barely feel the wall suddenly pressing against your back. You moan as Ace presses himself into you, his hard body like another wall squeezing you between the one behind you. He takes your arms and pins them over your head, stealing the air from your lungs.

He chuckles, smiling against your desperate lips. His hands move unde your thighs and he scoops you up with ease, making you feel oh-so little. He laughs at your little gasp as you find yourself hovering off of the floor in his arms. “Don’t worry, darlin’,” he says. “You’ll enjoy this ride. Bedroom?” You nod, wrapping your limbs around him like a koala bear, and away he goes with you in tow, thunking around in his cowboy boots and hat.

You get a tiny tour of his place when he goes upstairs and finally makes it to his bedroom that is filled with sunlight pouring in through the window. “Don’t close the blinds,” you purr as he kicks the door shut with his foot. “I wanna see you in the light.”

He smirks, loving your freakiness. “Yes, ma’am,” he murmurs, tasting your lips once more. “Now if it’s alright with you, I’d like to get these clothes off ya.”

You giggle as he sets you down on the bed before joining you. “The feelin’ is mutual, cowboy,” you sexily reply. “Just leave the hat and boots on…please.” You feel your face grow hot as Ace laughs at your request, taking your chin in his hand. “You’re a freaky one,” he purrs, biting his bottom lip. “I like that. You’re a woman who knows what she wants.”

Of course, you are! Any girl alone with a sexy cowboy would know what they want and right now, you want this man naked and to fuck you dumb. As you share heated, sloppy kisses, you help Ace strip off your bra, kicks, socks, and shorts, leaving you in on your panties. He takes a moment to ogle your body as you stand between his thighs.

“Fuck,” he huffs and you grow hot, realizing that this is the first time you’ve heard him cuss. “You’re a work of art, babydoll…is it okay if I call you that?” If it ain’t your hard nipples that give him a yes, it’s the kiss you give him. “Yes,” you whisper. Yes to everything. Ace grabs you and begins to kiss up your body, gently sucking on your nipples and licking your neck.

“I’m all sweaty,” you whine, slightly self-conscious. The cowboy raises a brow at you as if to say, ‘And?’ before scooping you up into his arms and tossing you onto the bed.

Now on your stomach, Ace takes advantage by bending your knees and hiking your ass up for him. “Stop,” he chortles. “I’m from the South, darlin’. A little sweat don’t mean nothin’ to me…now pipe down and let me enjoy you.”

You’ve never been with a man who loves eating pussy. You’ve never been with a man that eats pussy quite like Ace. But you should’ve known when he finally got your panties down and finally saw your exposed, glistening pussy all for him. “Goddamn,” he exhaled before spreading your asscheeks and giving right into the depths of your cunt.

His first few licks are gentle and slow as he gets to know your body. He asks you what you like and what you dislike. What makes you tick. The fact that he’s so interested in what you want and like makes you even wetter. Once you tell him and he gets right to work, it doesn’t take long for you to melt into the bed as his mouth works your pussy.

You grip the pillow now, your moans, whimpers, and whines falling onto Ace’s ears like a sweet symphony of music. “Ohhh, fuck, Ace!” you sing into the pillow, pushing your ass back into his face. He welcomes you, his hands gripping and smacking each cheek in time with his magical tongue lashes against your clit.

“That’s it, sing for me, darlin’,” he coos into your pussy, his words slightly muffled. “You sound so fuckin’ good.” He then pulls away from your pussy to slide his tongue up to your ass, much to your enjoyment. While he does this, he takes one finger and lightly glides it up and down your slit, sending shivers and sparks of pleasure throughout your body.

“Your ex ever do this for you?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your lowerback. “Did he ever take care of you like this?” He moves down to give an open-mouthed kiss to your pussy, emitting a loud moan from you. “Or this gorgeous girl?” he purrs against your clit. “Tell me.” Gently, his finger begins to prope your hole, sinking into your folds.

You gasp, gripping the pillow. “N-No,” you stammer. Ace makes a noise of approval. “I knew it. This cunt of yers is just too damn wet for me…not that I’m complainin’. You taste so, so good, little darlin’!” His tongue slides down your asscrack to your clit again, sucking on it while he fingers you.

You are a writhing, squirming mess, grinding your hips back into him, riding that wave of pleasure. The more he licks, sucks, and strokes, the more that knot in your core tightens, threatening to snap and cause you to spill all over his tongue. But his ministrations also cause something else: need. A desperate, blinding, unbridled need for him inside of you. “Stop, Ace!” you beg and he does, immediately. “I need you to fuck me. Please! I wanna cum around your cock!”

Ace pauses, taken aback by your request. But then you hear the joyous, thrilling sound of his belt buckle jingling and his zipper coming down. “So naughty,” he chuckles. “How’d you know I like naughty girls? You must’ve come outta my wettest dreams, babydoll.” You feel his cock slide against your slit, warm, hard, and thick.

You both moan as he taps it against your clit, his head nudging against the little bundle of nerves. “And per your request,” he says, laughter in his voice, “I’ll keep the hat and boots on for ya. But I want ya to look at me while I’m inside you, okay?”

Slowly, you turn your head and behold your eyes to the sexy man sporting his cowboy hat, boots, and nipple piercings behind you, his eyes burning with want. Your eyes trail down his abs and V-line to his thick cock and heavy balls that are begging to be tasted. But later. Right now, you need him in you. “Yes, sir,” you purr. “Now please: fuck me.”

Wordlessly, Ace grasps your hip with one hand and fulfills your request by taking his cock and sinking himself inside of you. His head sinking between your soft, wet folds cause you both to gasp, the contact explosively pleasurable. Ace goes slow, filling you to the brim with every slow thrust of his hips. It’s unbearable, almost agonizing how slow he’s moving.

Ace senses your change in demeanor and gently pulls out, leaving only his cockhead in you. “You alright?” he whispers, worried. “You’re shakin’ like a leaf. Do you want me to stop?”

The very thought of losing this feeling makes you desperate. You turn to him, your hair a sexed-out mess and your eyes lidded. “No,” you exhale, giving him a smile. “You’re just goin’ too slow.”

Instantly, all of the worry and uncertainty in Ace’s eyes disappear, replaced with only lust. A slow smirk stretches across his lips at your naughty request. “Well, why didn’t ya say so, darlin’?”

He pushes himself back in and grips your hips before pistoning into you, giving you the deep dick that you’ve been craving for months. A loud whine leaves your lips as he fucks you like you belong to him, causing your body to shake even more and that arch in your back to wobble. “Fuck me back,” he demands, his voice rough and raspy. “Don’t make me do all the work here. Take what you want from me, baby, c’mon.”

You push yourself up on your forearms and push back into him, tossing your ass back into his mind-blowing, bed-shaking, orgasmic thrusts that make you see stars behind your eyelids. Ace’s dick strokes every part of your insides while his hands grip your hip and one of your tits, molding the globe of flesh and teasing the tight nipple between his fingers. “O-Oh, my God!” you moan, your voice bouncing off of the walls. “Yes, Ace, just like that! Fuck me just like that!”

“Like what?” Ace asks, a smile evident in his voice. “Like…this?” He rolls his hips in a way that glides against your G-spot, causing you to damn near scream in pleasure. You just about hit high notes that would put Mariah Carey’s career in the dirt as Ace loops a hand between your thighs to rub your clit. You keep grinding back into him, much to his enjoyment.

He loves watching you move, your body so enticing while you squeeze around him. “God, darlin’,” he groans. “I can’t get enough of these hips. You ride me so well. Can’t wait to see how you ride my cock.”

He leans down to whisper into your ear, still pounding your pussy like it’s his profession. “I bet you’d be so good at it. I bet you’d be my good little cowgirl, wouldn’t cha? Bet you’d make me cum deep inside this pussy.”

His tongue slips against your earlobe as he begins to suck on it. You loop an arm around his neck to bring him close to you, his sweat-sticky body pressed against yours as he ruts into you from behind.

When your orgasm begins to peak, you can’t stop it and you don’t want to. This feels too good.

“F-Fuck, Ace!” you gasp. “I’m gonna…gonna cum!” Ace hums in approval, moving harder and faster, frantically rubbing your clit with his thick fingers. “Do it,” he practically begs. “Cum for me. Give me what I need.”

When you cum, you cum hard. It is so intense that it takes you a minute to make any noise as the rush of pleasure hits you, but once it does, you let out the loudest moan you’ve ever heard yourself make as you gush all around Ace’s cock. He grunts as your pussy hugs him, squeezing him like a vice as you coat his shaft in your cum.

“Thatta girl,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You softly whimper in acknowledgment, gripping the sheets as you ride your orgasm wave.

Once your high fades, Ace quickly pulls out as if you’ve burned him with your pussy, desperate to not cum yet. “Shit,” he hisses. “Look at how messy you made me, baby. You’ve gotta clean it up now.” He sticks his cock, shining in your juices, in your face, a lust-filled expression on his face.

The orgasm has done something to you, turning you into an insatiable, needy little slut. Suddenly feral and in need of him, you swallow his cock and slurp up all of your cum, even taking his balls in your mouth when you can. But when you’re too busy gagging all over his dick, you massage them in one hand with the other plays with his pierced nipples. Ace is enjoying himself immensely. He can’t believe his luck having such a beautiful woman in his bed, let alone a celebrity, sucking him off and teasing his overly-sensitive nipples.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he moans, tilting his head back at the feeling. “You keep doin’ all of that and I’ll cum. I still need more of ya.”

You hum in agreement, slipping off of his cock with a soft pop that your wet lips make. You look up at him through hooded eyes, making him so hard that it becomes painful. “If ya still want another round, I want you to ride me,” he huskily requests. “I wanna see this body bounce on top of me while I finally bust inside of you.”

You shiver, immediately soaked from the idea. Wordlessly, you stand on your knees and brace your hands on his chest before shoving him down onto the bed. He laughs, the sound making your heart melt, but it’s quickly replaced with a desperate moan as you climb on top of him, mounting him like he’s your own personal Stallion…or dildo. He doesn’t seem like he’d protest either.

But as you wrap a hand around his cock and bring it to meet your pussy, he stops you. “Wait, wait,” he protests. You stop, confused, until he takes his hat off and places it on your head. “Now ya look the part,” he comments, making you giggle. “Now ride me like a good little cowgirl.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You come down to take his cock inside of you, drawing a moan out of both of you once your tight, wet walls squeeze around him. Bracing your feet on the bed as you straddle Ace, you place one hand on his chest and slowly begin bouncing, becoming used to how he feels in this position. He is so deep, touching every single part of you, stretching you out more than he did in doggy.

“O-Oh, my Go-o-od!” you gasp, each word punctuated by your bouncing. You tilt your head up to the ceiling as you roll your hips, grinding your clit against Ace’s pelvis. The pleasure makes you throw your head back and your eyes flutter closed, each delicious burst of pleasure taking you on a ride.

Ace is enjoying his ride as well, watching you bounce that perfect pussy and body on his cock. “That’s it, babydoll,” he groans, gripping your hips. Y

ou ride him like he’s stolen, your gorgeous titties jiggling in his face. His hat perched on top of your pretty head is just as yummy–it’s the cherry on top for him. Watching you makes him want to make you yours; make it so no man, whether in the country or city, can ever have you again.

“How’s it feel?” he asks, staring up at your pretty face. All you let out is a pathetic whimper that gives him the urge to burst inside of you. “I know it feels good, darlin’, but I need your words. Tell me how that dick feels.” He begins to rub your clit with his thumb, causing you to let out a loud whine.

“S-so…so good!” you gasp, alternating between bouncing and rolling your hips, giving him more and more of that pussy every single time. “You feel so good, Ace!”

Suddenly feral, the cowboy leans up and swoops you into his arms, pistoning his hips up into yours from below. “Tell me I’m the best you’ve ever had,” he pants in your ear, his voice low and tantalizing. “Tell me you love it.”

You’ll tell him whatever he wants to hear if it means he’ll keep doing this to you. “You’re the best, Ace!” you sob, gripping his shoulders. “You’re the fucking best I’ve ever had! I love the way you fuck me!”

That’s all it takes for the cowboy to keep fucking you stupid as you grind into him from above. The both of you fuck each other like you need it, the bed shaking and your moans echoing throughout the room. You kiss sloppily and messily, your tongues swirling with one another as your pussy squelches and gushes around his cock.

When your second orgasm comes, all you can do is let out a sob, your nails skating down Ace’s back and skull tattoo. He gets his nut just after you, letting out a loud “Oh, fuck!” along with a series of porn-worthy moans as he explodes inside of you. You gasp, feeling a gush of warmth flow into you as you cream all over his cock, your cum sliding down his balls that have completely emptied themselves inside of you.

The high is just as intense and as blissful as the first time, especially since Ace is joining you on this ride this time. You both share an exhausted, messy kiss before he exhaustedly falls back against the pillows, breathing heavily. You roll off him and fall beside him on the bed, his hat still on your head.

For a while, you both lie there in silence, panting heavily from the activity. The only sounds in the room are the birds chirping and the horses neighing outside, giving a very peaceful atmosphere after some good sex. Finally, Ace turns over to look at you. “So how ‘bout that dinner date?” he asks.

You burst into laughter and he follows, the both of you in a fit of giggles that feels just as freeing as the sex. “I could use a steak,” you reply once you calm yourself. “My treat.” Ace makes a face like he’s offended by the very idea. “My treat,” he corrects you. “You deserve it for that ride ya just gave me. You certainly knocked my boots.”

He wraps those big arms around you that you happily snuggle into, wrapping your own around him too. You feel so content and safe despite only knowing the man for two days. Maybe this is a sign. “Mine too,” you sigh. “Oh, and just so you know, I’m familiar with one of the names tatted on your wrists: Luffy. I know him.”

You watch as realization dawns in Ace’s eyes at the mention of his brother. “Oh, yeah?” he asks, excited. “You know my kid brother?” You nod, giggling. “He’s told me about you. Said your the brother that’s a cowboy, but I just forgot.”

He lets out a loud, belly laugh that makes you laugh with him, adoring his childlike personality. “Wow, what a small world!” he chuckles. “I guess in a way, maybe we were meant to meet each other.”

Though you wouldn’t have admitted it first, you think the same thing. If this blooms into something more, it could work. You could take the train to see him and vice versa…if he is interested. It isn’t just the sex you enjoy. You also enjoy talking to Ace. You love how he pushes you to try new things and is so in tune with your feelings. Most men aren’t, so whoever raised him did it well.

You also think about how great of a plot this would be in a book…and just like that, you have the sudden inspiration to write a new series filled with action, mystery, thrills, romance, and a lot of steamy sex with a cowboy who may or may not be inspired by the one you’re currently curled up with.

You look up at Ace, your muse, dreamboat, and possible summer-fling-to-not, with the same adoring, satisfied smile he gazes down at you with. “So steak dinner it is then?” he murmurs into your neck.

You nod, snuggling into his shoulder. “After round two,” you purr. “And a snuggle and shower….in either order.” You beam up at him, a hunger for him rising in the pit of your stomach. You don’t want to waste a minute of this week out in the countryside.

Evidently, neither does Ace judging by his hardening dick against your thigh. He takes your wrist and kisses it before rolling on top of you and grinding himself against your core.

“I can do all of that, little darlin’,” he murmurs. “You can even wear my boots this time.”

THE END.

#ace d portgas #ace x black reader #ace x reader #ace x you #my baby daddy fr #one piece smut #one piece x y/n #black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #black coded reader #black writers #cowboy!geto

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funhouse-mirror-barbie · 2 months ago

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How I would re-write Stella Goetia, Backstory + Season 1

Probably my most popular posts on this blog are about Stella from Helluva Boss. I like to talk about her because I think she had the potential to be a really nuanced character, and I really would’ve loved to see her and Stolas have a more complicated relationship.

So I’d like to talk about the direction I would’ve taken her characterization and story in.

I do need to stress that this is NOT a writing “fix-it” post. Canon Stella may be an evil bitch, but she’s MY evil bitch and I LOVE HER. I’ve already talked quite at length about how her character and conflict with Stolas being purely black and white is not a bad story decision, but to me is less interesting than having a grey or nuanced conflict.

I just want to go over a rough outline of what I would’ve done with her as a character. Just because it’s different, doesn’t mean it’s better or is “fixing” the canon story. I also am not trying to make Stella inherently more sympathetic/likable/or “woobify” her—this is just a ROUGH outline of what I’d do to flesh Stella out as a person, and ideas I’ve had for her character that would make her (and her relationships with Stolas and Via) more appealing to me personally.

I just really wish Stella had gotten more depth, and wanted to talk about it.

(LONG) Rewrite Summary below!!!

While I think there’s also an interesting re-write where Stella and Stolas are not in an arranged marriage, and may explore this idea as well, this time around I am going to be sticking with the canon background that their marriage was arranged.

Instead of having Stella be an evil heartless spoiled child who strangles puppies, I would give her a very strict upbringing where from birth she was groomed to be the “perfect noblewoman and wife”—I would base her upbringing and the expectations placed on her on what was expected of Regency noblewomen.

Basically, Stella would be raised to be able to run the house/estate when Stolas was away, be accomplished in the “domestic arts” (hosting events such as parties and balls, being able to do embroidery and other hobbies “befitting” of her class, and being involved in charitable efforts). She would be taught to be quiet, graceful, courteous, and to always anticipate the needs of her husband.

Stella’s “true” personality as a young child would be boisterous, loud, and precocious. Stella loved playing outside, singing loudly, and dancing.

She would have gotten in trouble with her parents often due to this (“Dancing for fun is what the poor do, Darling. You should only dance to find a suitable husband”) and would be punished by her Father by his ordering the rest of the family and their staff to ignore Stella completely and act like she didn’t exist. This would usually result in Stella acting out even more to try and MAKE everyone pay attention to her, until she’d get too tired to continue and start acting “proper” (I.e. quiet, not speaking too loud or speaking out of turn, being obedient, etc.)

Her relationship with Andrealphus would have been strained, as he would have been the “golden child” while Stella would be the scapegoat. I’d also like to give Stella magic fire powers. Because honestly why does Andre get Ice Magic and Stolas get space magic and Stella is the same type of demon as them apparently and gets nothing??? Boring.

Maybe this is basic, but honestly I love characters with fire powers who have to learn to control them. As child, Stella would have difficulty controlling her fire abilities, and would be not be taught how to use or maintain her powers, but would be taught to suppress them.

As an aside—again, I’m not giving Stella a traumatic childhood to make her more likable and more pitiable. I have two reasons I’m giving her this backstory—1) I believe that even people with great parents still end up with some childhood trauma, because being alive and growing up *is* traumatic. And 2) I think that there’s a lot of pretty good evidence that ROYAL upbringings, and the expectations and restrictions that come with them, are especially traumatic in a very particular and very intense way.

Doesn’t mean that they’re not extremely privileged, but that privilege also doesn’t take away that trauma.

I think it’s very realistic for both Stella AND Stolas, as children of royalty and nobility, to have a lot of childhood trauma surrounding their upbringings, and that’s something I really want to explore in my rewrite—how they cope with their traumas and how it impacts their relationship and their ability to raise their daughter and navigate conflict.

By an older teen to young adult, she would have learned how to behave as a “perfect noblewoman”. This is when she would meet Stolas for the first time (with a a Chaperone of course).

There would be a little bit of time shortly before and after their marriage where they would have their “honeymoon” period—both Stella and Stolas were very infatuated with each other and mistook that infatuation for “true love”.

This time where they were extremely infatuated with each other would last about a year, after which they would slowly begin to realize that the idealized images they had of one another was false. They would start to argue more, have a harder time compromising etc. until they finally realized they fell out of love, and maybe were never in love in the first place.

Even though the two of them would have come to this realization, it would be separately, and due to their upbringings (where you don’t really talk about your feelings and push them down) they would NOT talk to each other about it.

This would be the first big crack in their relationship, and they would both have a lot of guilt over it.

I like the idea of the two of them really, really want to stay in love with each other, but after they get to TRULY know each other they just…never fully “click”. They realize they don’t have the same interests, they can’t really find anything to talk about, and they just. They don’t stay in love.

Stella would be very in denial about her true feelings after this turning point, and would still try to convince herself that she really loves Stolas. She would have a lot of deeply buried guilt over not loving him, and see it as a failure of her “duties” as his wife.

After this, they would find a way to keep their relationship would be cordial and respectful, but it would always tinged by an unspoken awkwardness. It would be almost business-like in nature, and they would start spending more and more time apart.

To cope with this lackluster relationship that they were both now stuck in, Stolas would throw himself fully into his duties (which I would want to show a little more of…seriously what does…what does he do??? What does he use the grimoire for????) and Stella would do the same—throwing herself into her duties as the lady of the house and a Goetia Princess.

Stella would host parties and balls, she’d make sure manor was always clean and orderly, she’d become a patron of the arts.

The basis of their relationship would become one of them sticking to the roles that were thrust upon them since birth.

Things WOULD change for the better though after Octavia’s birth.

Because for a while, Stolas and Stella would have something, someone, that brought them together, that they both loved and cared for dearly.

Something that Stella and Stolas would have spoken about before having Octavia is that they did NOT, under any circumstance, want to raise Via like they were raised.

As I already went over, both Stella and Stolas would have dealt with abuse and neglect growing up—Stolas’ abuse stems from his parents being LARGELY absent in his life and him being very neglected as a child, while Stella’s stems from her parents being extremely controlling and giving her very little, if any, freedom.

They would firmly agree on letting Via be her own person, on making time for her, on not putting too many expectations on her.

And, in this rewrite, I would not have them be abusive or neglectful parents. But I would have them be very flawed parents, whose own traumatic upbringings negatively affect their ability to raise Via.

I would want to explore Stella and Stolas fighting to break the cycle of abuse they went through, but still struggling because they don’t have a good frame of reference for what being a good parent looks like.

Stolas doesn’t realize that he’s not always giving Octavia all the time with him she needs, because in his eyes he’s spending tons of time with her—it doesn’t occur to him that he’s actually being neglectful towards her, because to him, spending any long amount of time with her is more than he ever got from his father. He’ll spend time with her, and talk to her, but not really LISTEN to what she’s saying she needs, and doesn’t understand why she doesn’t like the things she used to, or is mad at him for not taking more time for her.

Stella doesn’t realize she’s still being controlling or pushing her expectations onto Octavia by making passive aggressive comments suggesting she wear more “appropriate” or “feminine” clothing, or take up a “nicer” hobby like needlepoint and drop taxidermy. She gives Via the freedom to choose what she wants to do, but doesn’t fully SUPPORT those choices, and doesn’t understand why that’s so important, since in the end Octavia is still enjoying freedoms that Stella only dreamed of as a child.

Still, they manage to be a fairly functional and loving family towards Octavia. And Stolas and Stella maintain their cordial and business like relationship for Octavia’s sake, and to keep up appearances.

During Octavia’s teen years, when she’s 14-17, is when more cracks begin to show—Stella and Stolas have been keeping their relationship together, but it’s stagnating more and more. Stolas throws himself even more into his duties with the stars (or whatever) and Stella begins to become gradually more and more concerned and anxious about making sure her family maintains a “perfect” reputation among the other royals of hell.

Stella begins to throw more balls and parties for Hell’s charities (if this version of hell has banks, and police and prisons, they can have charitable organizations, okay.) As her and Stolas’s anniversary starts to get closer, she begins planning a HUGE ball for Hell’s nobility to celebrate. It’s hugely important to her.

While she’s doing all of this, Stolas is beginning to have an early-to-mid-life crisis. His work and duties that used to be engaging and fun are feeling more and more like a chore, his relationship with Stella has stagnated and is purely for show, he’s getting more and more anxious about Octavia approaching adulthood, and his whole life is beginning to feel more and more claustrophobic.

So. Stolas decides to do something wild, spontaneous, and very selfish, before he loses it. On a night where Stella is attending an Opera, and Via is spending the night with friends from school*, Stolas dresses in clothes he assumes “the common folk” would wear, and goes to shady bar in IMP city, with the goal of meeting someone to hook up with.

This is where Stolas meets Blitzø. (Sorry, I’m. I’m not doing the whole “paid childhood friends for one day” background.)

They have what both assume will be a one night stand at Blitzø’s place. It goes. MUCH better than either of them would have expected sex-wise. The two start meeting up more and more when they’re able to. Stolas begins to open up more to Blitzø, but it stays VERY sexual—eventually Stolas comes clean about who he is and they start to hook up at Stolas’ place whenever Stella is out. Stolas is very much infatuated with Blitzø (and the sex they have). Blitzø thinks they’re having non-complicated fun.

During AAALLL of this is when Blitzø learns about the Grimoire, and asks if he can “borrow” it for I.M.P. Stolas is impressed with Blitzø’s confidence and drive, and agrees to let Blitzø use it anytime, with the one exception being the night of the full moon. There is no full moon “deal” beyond the agreement that Blitzø cannot accept clients on the full moon because Stolas needs the book back that night.

During all of this is ALSO when Stella begins to notice Stolas acting differently, he’s slightly more energetic, he’s spending less and less time in his study and the manor in general, he doesn’t look her in the eyes when they do have time to chat briefly. It’s odd, and she’s suspicious of SOMETHING going on but she’s not sure what.

Stolas DOES feel guilty about cheating on Stella, but justifies it by telling himself that they’re not in a “true” marriage, and it’s “just sex”, so he’s not really cheating on Stella.

The night of Stella and Stolas’s anniversary ball arrives. To Stella, everything goes as expected, and it’s a huge success.

During the ball, though, we get the same scene we get in the Circus—Blitzø gets caught trying to sneak into Stolas’ room. Instead of the guards bringing him into the party, they call Stolas outside privately to deal with it (because why would the disrupt the party by dragging a party-crasher through the middle of a fancy ball?? I didn’t really understand why they did that in the og episode)

Stolas dismisses the guards, and we learn that Blitzø has been sneaking in (with Stolas’ permission+ knowledge) to get the grimoire after the full moon when he and Stolas don’t have time to meet up in person. Like tonight.

Instead of just handing off the grimoire like usual, Stolas and Blitzø end up hooking up (mutually and wholly consensually). Stolas does not return to the party.

Stella is really concerned about how Stolas’ absence looks, especially at a ball she planned with so many high profile demon lords present, but she’s able to wave it off as Stolas feeling a little tired and retiring early, due to it being the day after his full moon duties and all.

Instead of returning to their room, that night, Stella sleeps in one of the many guest rooms. She doesn’t know where Stolas is, but she’s mad at him for leaving early without saying anything on such an important night, and is hoping not coming to their bed will send a message—she’s tired anyway and doesn’t want to get in a big fight before bed that will tire her out more.

The next morning she has tea in the garden with some close friends. And this is where we get the infamous “Sorry, I fucked your husband!” scene.

After this, well. Stella kinda loses her shit. She had been pushing down all of her negative feelings and thoughts and frustrations surrounding her life and relationship for YEARS, because in her mind, as long as she was able to maintain the facade of having a “perfect” life, it would be worth it.

And now in a moment she’s lost the thing that, after her daughter, mattered to her the most.

She essentially explodes in fury in a way Stolas has never seen before—they get in a huge argument—Stella’s fire powers come out and burn down the manor’s garden, things just really get out of hand.

So. What would follow would be most of what we see of Stella in season 1 of HB—now that that floodgate has been opened, she finds she’s struggling to control her feelings, she’s mad and sad ALL THE TIME, and she’s deeply deeply hurt in a way she didn’t know she could be.

She can’t show her face in society, she doesn’t know WHAT to say to Octavia, she can’t believe Stolas could be SO SELFISH after EVERYTHING she had done to make sure their family was in high standing—and she can’t push down her feelings anymore. She’s never been so furious in her entire life.

And so she contacts a hitman, Striker.

I really like the old fan theory that Stella hired Striker in a moment of irrationality and anger because of how hurt she was—obviously her hurt does not justify trying to have her husband MURDERED, but I like the idea that she called the hit because she was deeply hurt and unable to cope with those feelings—not because she just hates him to the core of his being and has for their entire marriage. Her anger would be a coping mechanism, if she’s so busy feeling furious she doesn’t have to actually sit with her feelings of betrayal and sadness and hurt.

From here, the rest of season one would play out like in canon, we don’t see Stella in person again, just the apparition of her in Ozzie’s.

I’m going to stop here because this post is already way too long, it it’ll help me to think more if I split it up.

If you read this far please tell me what you think! I think I’d like overall for Stella and Stolas’ relationship to mirror Blitzø and Verosika’s, or maybe become a foil to it. From here we could honestly go either way—either Stella becomes a true villain, or she becomes an antagonist turned hesitant ally like Fizz, Ozzie, and Verosika.

I can see both being interesting, so maybe I’ll do a rewrite for both. We’ll see I guess.

*it weirds me the FUCK out that we don’t know anything about what Hell’s kids do, like I assume schools exist but ???anyway in this rewrite Stella and Stolas send Octavia to a fancy private school—cause the thought of her having NO friends or social circle makes me so sad)

#helluva boss critical #hb critical #hb critique #helluva boss critique #helluva boss critic #hb critic #hb rewrite #helluva boss rewrite #Stella hb #stella helluva boss #stella goetia #Stella Goetia hb #I guess this is technically a Stolitz rewrite too but I don’t want to tag that #cause I feel like Stolitz fans might attack me and I don’t have time for all of that #funhouse convo #media criticism #media critique

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seulszn · 1 year ago

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Listen I love TLOU and the fandom very much but a lot of people (not calling anybody out) need a reality check and need to grow up. I wanna say my two cents on things that bother me in this fandom.

1. Boycotting for Palestine

I have seen multiple times on multiple occasions where people would sit on their phone and complain about why writers are “flooding the tags with this boycotting bullshit” and honestly all I have to say is your super childish you can’t take a hour or a week out of your day to raise awareness on a important topic that is affecting millions of people? Your so horny so down bad for pixelated characters that you don’t care about the innocent children, women and men that are dying in Palestine? The boycotting isn’t gonna stop just because you want your needs filled, the boycotting isn’t going to stop because you think it needs to, it’s not gonna stop until Palestine is free. And if you wanna read things that bad then read nobody is stoping you but a take into ignition that if a writer is spreading awareness then don’t be ignorant and say stupid shit

2. Less Sex and more angst or other genres.

Listen I love Abby and Ellie just like everyone else and I read a lot of smut about them but does that all y’all see when y’all look at them? As sex objects? Like I’m not saying that you should stop writing smut for those characters but write other things to that don’t involve smut, like angst I see a lot of people under that tag say how they wish writers would as write other things that isn’t just smut and majority of the time when they say that they get hated for it. It lowkey gets boring reading fanfics where the whole plot is smut, smut, smut. And again I’m not saying to stop writing smut but please for the love of whatever you believe in write other genres.

3. Black inclusivity

As a black writer and a black person TLOU tag isn’t inclusive enough. I know you must be thinking “Why are we speaking about this again?” Because I’m honestly so tired of how uninclusive the fandom is like I said before Ellie dates WOC if you don’t know what WOC is it’s Women Of Color all of Ellie’s girlfriends where WOC now I’m not saying you can’t write for Ellie as a white person and I’m not saying that never did all I am saying is once again all of Ellie’s girlfriend where POC

Riley was a Black African American who Dated Ellie

Cat the girl who wasn’t mentioned alot but is in the game is Asian American who also dated Ellie

Dina is a Jewish (Mexican, Middle Eastern ) American who dated Ellie

Also yes we know when the reader is white coded so don’t try a put that you don’t mention when race mentioned cause you do and we can tell when you do “She’s Petite and cute with her long blonde hair” or whatever you bitches be saying we know when you guys aren’t inclusive the whole point of fanfiction writing is to be inclusive is to make sure that readers can see themself in your xreader so if your putting all these “white things and then labeling your story as “the readers race is not mentioned” or that OC stuff that y’all do then just label the story as a white reader or a OC reader

4. Futa, trans and masc

Now here I’m gonna discuss two or three things starting off with Futa and Trans. Now I don’t know when “Futa” or “Trans” Ellie and Abby came from but a lot of you readers need to understand and learn the difference between the two because they are both very different things.

Futanari: is the Japanese word for hermaphroditism, which is also used in a broader sense for androgyny. Beyond Japan, the term has come to be used to describe a commonly pornographic genre of eroge, manga, and anime, which includes characters that show primary sexual characteristics from both females and males. In today's language, it refers almost exclusively to characters who have an overall feminine body, but have both female and male primary genitalia (although a scrotum is not always present, while breasts, a penis, and a vulva are). The term is also often abbreviated as futa(s), which is also used as a generalized term for the works themselves.

Transgender (often shortened to trans) is someone whose gender identity differs from that typically associated with the sex they were assigned at birth. Some transgender people who desire medical assistance to transition from one sex to another identify as transsexual. Transgender is also an umbrella term; in addition to including people whose gender identity is the opposite of their assigned sex (trans men and trans women), it may also include people who are non-binary or genderqueer. Other definitions of transgender also include people who belong to a third gender, or else conceptualize transgender people as a third gender. The term may also include cross-dressers or drag kings and drag queens in some contexts. The term transgender does not have a universally accepted definition, including among researchers.

Mind you I am not transgender I am nonbinary but I see a lot of transgender people speak up about how offensive it is to write a character as Transgender but it’s not really transgender but a Futanari remember a Futa is a character who is assigned a gender at birth but just has extra sexual parts like a penis.

Now another thing that bothers me is how y’all Masculinize Masc Lesbians as if they still aren’t women themselves like every time I read a fanfic with Ellie or Abby or even Vi and Sevika from Arcane you guys like to ignore they fact that they are also women themselves like it’s not gonna kill you to give those characters feminine compliments there shouldn’t be a reason why your calling these women “handsome” or other Masculine compliments and also a lot of Masculine women where makeup it’s not just a feminine woman thing. Masc Lesbians are women they aren’t men so stop treating them as if they are men and ignoring the fact that they are women

5. the Innocent childish reader gotta stop.

They title says enough I don’t think I need to say too much but a lot of y’all get innocent and corruption mixed up but a corruption kink is When you find the idea of "corrupting" someone, mostly in a sexual way, like taking virginities or introducing people to stuff like bdsm etc. It's the idea of having someone "pure" do "bad" things under your influence. And innocent is not corrupted or tainted with evil or unpleasant emotion; sinless; pure. not guilty of a particular crime; blameless. (From the dictionary)

Y’all need to understand yes not everyone knows what sex is but everyone knows what a vagina is what a penis is, what a orgasm is and what sex is but they may not knows what happens when you have sex so making the reader what y’all call innocent isn’t innocent it’s honestly to me perverted cause the only one who would say something like “my cunny feels weird 🥺” or that “what is sex 🥺” is a child. Children don’t know what sex is children don’t know what pleasure or orgasms is and when y’all say “the reader is a Bimbo” is also funny cause Bimbos know what sex is as well yes they may be stupid but they aren’t slow so before you make a innocent reader please think “am I making my reader act like a child or am I gonna make her really innocent like how regular grown ass adults act?” so don't get not knowing and "innocent" mixed up

6. The stories where they have sex inside a church also gotta stop

Now I’m not a Christian but these stories are honestly really bad and are Blasphemy a lot of people have come out and said that they don’t like the fact that people are writing stories about church in a sexual way like their shouldn’t be any reason why your characters are fucking inside a church, that’s like stomping on someone’s dead grave. You guys do shit like this and then wonder why Christian’s don’t like us. Religion isn’t something to be sexualized it’s not something to be playing with either this idc how much you hate Christianity you can be a Atheist, or Catholic or Jewish but please for the love of whatever you believe in don’t sexualize people’s religion.

That’s all I can think of at the moment if I think of more I’ll of course make a part two to this but don’t take anything I said here to heart it’s just my blunt honest opinion on things in this fandom and if I get hate for this 🤷🏾‍♀️

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belovedivies · 4 months ago

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Gurl imagine, just imagine a rejuvenated peter with his three ducklings, bumping into raphael's older sibling how would that go?

a/n: THREE DUCKLINGS LMAO- i had too much fun writing this piece. this should have came out on a while back but uni whipped my ass rip- anw, enjoy!! cw: minor spoiler, minor character death, they have fun clowning around and absolutely nothing bad happened. wc: 3.6k m.list

offshore ft. multi

The sky above is pitch black by the time Soongu leaves his dorm and heads to their promised spot. He goes for a casual look that evening: gray hoodie, black pants, a pair of Sketcher that soon gathers dust on the outsole when the guy navigates his way through the city’s park, dry leaves crunching with every step.

His long legs eat up the distance rather quickly, and there isn’t much until a right turn at the local pub leads Soongu down a dimly lit alley. The streetlights on both sides flicker; it’s a beautiful moonless night. He isn’t on his way to another meeting, not really. There’s a certain ease in his movement, fingers drumming slightly against the lining fabric where he digs his hands into his pockets. Soongu feels lighter, easier to breathe somehow. When he crosses by a traffic mirror attached to a rusty-looking post, a young man stares right back at him. He can almost pretend he’s just another boy; no debt of blood and death marring his youthful features.

The exterior of the convenience store looks tame, but his comrades are already there: lazing around on a long bench that overlooks an empty parking lot through a fairly new chain-link fence. They remind him of a bunch of high schoolers. People with obligations rarely extend outside of the established social circles. It’s Simon who sneaks up to him first, wrapping an arm around the boy’s neck with a cocky smirk.

“Sheesh, took you long enough brother. ” His voice booms against Soongu’s ears like bus tires. “We’re about to ditch your ass.”

“As if,” Soongu replies in faux-annoyance, though there’s no denying how his lips curl up into an amused smile. The years have taken a toll on his old pal, but it’s still Simon at the end of the day and no one else. Lost an arm, chipped a tooth, but still ever the loudmouth who fought with him through life and death during their time as Apostles.

One meter away, Jiwon—the woman of their little team—crosses her legs with a wistful look while Alexander McKing rests his head on her thighs, basking in the little head scratches his owner delivers every few seconds. Simon might have always been the boisterous one, but Soongu was surprised to learn that the hangout today was actually her idea. For someone who constantly fusses and loses her cool over the smallest of mistakes that might give away his true identity, trading her usual gold-plated sanctuary for some simple bonding time on a Friday night is a bit… questionable, if not to say downright odd.

“Jiwon~” Simon sing-songs, still keeping his arm looped around the boy’s neck as his old pal drags him towards the bench. “Bo— I mean Soongu is here, what are the plans?”

“Shut your goofy ass up.” Ah, there is she. Their blind grumpy old mom. Jiwon uncrosses her legs with an irritated face, brows drawn together behind her near-transparent glasses. “I’m trying to remember the name of that BBQ.”

Simon’s face falls at the insult like a child just got robbed of his favorite toy. Soongu lets out a quiet chuckle this time, and it isn’t long until the two of them jump at each other’s throats for another round of bickering. But tonight isn’t about just that. They are here to hang out, as Jiwon has put it—

(—wasted out of her mind halfway past a bottle of Château Margaux. She lamented through the phone about the horrible hangover she had in the morning, yet somehow the suggestion remained.)

“You wounded me!” The gray-haired swordsman exclaims. He’s feigning hurt obviously, but it’s those next words that manage to get on Jiwon’s nerves. “Didn’t you remember how you used to hang around little ol’ me and fawn like a pup—ow ow!”

“I. Was. Young. And. I. Was. Stupid!” With each syllable, her hand strikes down Simon’s back in a poor attempt to chastise her jerk of a comrade. “I’d never date you in a million years, not even Peter—“

Soongu cocks an eyebrow at the mention of his infamous codename. Jiwon clamps a hand over her mouth as the realization of what just slipped out hits her. Peter. It would have been fine to mention it if all of them were lazing around in her fancy lair with ice whiskeys on the stainless marble countertop, but here they were out in the open. Not to mention the mutual agreement to only refer to Soongu as… well, Soongu.

“Shit, my bad.” She gulps, a drop of sweat rolling down her forehead. The dog continues to curl up and snuggle her lap.

“Careless, aren’t cha?” Taking the chance to tease, Simon bends his knees and flashes Jiwon a toothy grin that she luckily can’t see, but pisses her off enough to the point her jaws clench, ready to wipe it off his stupid face with another punch.

“You little—”

“Alright, break it up.” As fun as it is to watch the shenanigans carry on, that brief mention of his name reminds the boy to interfere in the little fight. He puts his hands on either of his friends’ foreheads, creating some distance lest they decide to headbutt each other into concussion. “You’re forgetting someone.”

Kageo tenses up ever so slightly in Soongu’s peripheral vision, not used to being the center of attention now that the spotlight is suddenly on him. In his white T-shirt and 6’7 frame, their new companion still ominously blends into the background and contents himself watching every interaction. Old habits die hard, Soongu supposes. Back then those shoulders were unshackled by the weight of hatred and revenge, Kageo was but a shadow standing behind Yuika, serving the girl with all his might. Now with the corpse of his first love rotting on the seabed alongside what’s left of their ship, Kageo is forced to be who he thought he has never been before.

Someone who actually matters.

“I’m fine with whatever you suggest.”

It takes a while for a response to come. Humble and demure, typical for the guy. Soongu can’t blame him; it’s hella awkward for four of them to just stand here and do nothing but stare at each other.

Simon, unsurprisingly, is the one to break the silence. Taking a step forward, the old man pats Kageo on the back. A classic bro move to let him know there’s no hostility between them anymore.

“C’mon kiddo,” he clicks his tongue playfully. Simon talks to Kageo like an uncle does his nephew, and Soongu can’t help but wonder if it’s a direct result of months of being an undercover guard at that local grade school, “we’re gonna let loose just this one night. Show a little more enthusiasm, will ya?”

The boy in question tenses up, clearly not used to the casual skinship between friends. Then again, he has only ever been with Yuika, and even then there wasn’t really a time for them to “hang out” between the constant killing and running from authority.

Kageo ducks his head with a loud “Y-Yes, Uncle! I’ll try!” that makes Simon’s smile grow impossibly wider around the edge. Almost hard to believe that the swordsman himself was seconds away from slashing the younger boy’s hand back then. Truly the development of all time.

The atmosphere seems to ease up a bit with that interaction out of the way. While the two of them are busy in their bubble, Soongu turns his attention to Jiwon—who somehow chose to stay quiet throughout the past few minutes. It isn’t very much like her, so he takes his spot on the bench next to the woman.

“Are we going in?” He looks over to his comrade, obviously referring to the store next to them.

“Yeah,” Jiwon hums with a smile, sounding happier than what Soongu usually hears from her. The German Shepherd hops off her lap, instead running up to nuzzle against his legs, which the boy happily rewards the dog with more head scratches.

—

This 7-11 smells… nice. Just the usual cleaning chemicals and lavender spray, but still nice. Anything is better than that funky smell of burnt cheese and melted slurpees.

Soongu hasn’t been to that much to draw the conclusion, honestly. Even back then, all he did as a young and invincible Peter was going on missions from one country to another. Between the seemingly endless list of targets to take down and people to protect, his meals only ever consisted of instant noodles and takeouts. Sitting down at a restaurant to enjoy the food was rare, going to a convenience store for it was even rarer. As an Apostle, the boy doesn’t want to risk a mass shooting that would harm innocent citizens. But as a now just-another-D-rank-Glory-killer…

“Danbi!”

His mom-comrade calls out an unfamiliar name before rushing past him to reach someone. He turns around to see a girl, the store’s logo plastered on her red apron as well as a beverage-filled box in her hands. Interestingly, she doesn’t end up toppling over despite how quickly the woman sprints in her direction to pull this Danbi into a bone-crushing embrace.

“You brat—” Jiwon grits her teeth, squishing the younger girl’s cheeks together like Play-Doh. Soongu can’t help but wince just by watching the interaction; she really loved to pull this move back when he first revealed his rejuvenated self, “—where the hell were you?! I called you ten times and you didn’t even answer!”

Her aggressive yelling manages to get the other two’s attention, who up until now were eyeing neatly arranged lines of alcoholic drinks inside a freezer at the back of the store. Kageo gives Simon a mild questioning look when they draw closer to the source of drama, an expression that the old swordsman mirrors. Now it just seems like all three of them are at a loss for this new girl’s identity.

“Ow, ow— unnie!” Danbi squeals like an injured animal. With her hands already occupied, she’s helpless against the onslaught of Jiwon’s pinching. “You’re so mean! You know I can’t use my phone during my shift.”

The blind woman clicks her tongue, unimpressed. “I texted 30 minutes ago too, and you left me on read!”

If she plans to guilt her, it works. Danbi deflates with a sigh. Just before she can say anything else, however, Simon chimes in with a question they’re all dying to know.

“Um… who are you, Missy?”

Danbi’s eyes snap open at the unexpected inquiry. She looks like she doesn’t realize they are right there. Soongu notes how her gaze travels from Kageo’s neutral face to Simon’s amputated arm and then—

—to Soongu himself.

She lingers on him for longer too. Three seconds too long, he counts, with just her blank, doll-eyed stare boring holes directly into his skull.

But then the girl shrivels up, bowing until the box in her hands sweeps the ground, bottles of fizzy drink inside clicking together when she says, “I’m Ahn Danbi, nice to meet you!” then proceeds to straighten up her back with a smile so bright it immediately makes Soongu second guess his decision, but to what?

…to what?

Jiwon grins, the joy evident in her voice. Her affection is softer this time as she returns to wrapping her arms around Danbi’s shoulders.

“Danbi, these idiots are under my care. Idiots, Danbi here is my cousin—“ Alexander walks up and nuzzles its face against said girl’s legs, “—and protégé, too.

Simon looks shocked by the reveal. “We never knew you had one!”

“Now you do~”

The old man just rolls his eyes before turning to the girl, a big smile on his face as he introduces himself. “Nice to meet ya too, kiddo! I’m Simon.”

“Hello~” Danbi, still holding onto the box, manages to shift its weight into one hand while squeezing out of her cousin’s embrace just enough to catch a handshake, “Unnie told me a lot about you!”

Uh oh, that scratches a spot. Soongu watches as Simon’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree before his old pal makes a smug face.

“Oh, did she?” The guy pretends to his stubble thoughtfully, though not without the smirk still plastered on his face. “I hope she didn’t blast your poor ears off talking ‘bout me. You know how obsessed she is—”

Jiwon does end up punching him in the face this time.

—

“So you drain the noodles with these right here…”

Danbi gestures to the tiny dots at the edge of the sealing lid. Using the tip of a wooden chopstick, she pokes three holes before lifting the cup noodle up and tipping it forward so the water can escape through the small space. Above her, Kageo looks strangely out of place as he towers over and watches with hawk-like attention.

“Here you go!” The girl turns back to him, presenting the now soft instant ramen inside. “Now you just need to add the seasoning.”

Kageo tilts his head. He’s more of a lost child than the unfeeling giant Soongu saw on the Ghost Cruise weeks back, void of Yuika’s cunning giggles or million-dollar chandeliers that render him stationary in the golden lights. When she drowned, a part of him no doubt went down along. But here, there’s a small yet still-there glow in those inky eyes when his friend takes the cup, voice filled with curiosity.

“There’s no water?”

“I saved a bit for easy mixing. Other than that,” Jiwon’s cousin gives him a kind smile. Despite the less-than-ideal introduction to their little team, she seems to have no trouble breaking the ice, “this is a type of 'stir-fried’ dry noodle. You picked Buldak Cream Carbonara, which is usually prepared with just the sauce and powder.”

A small hum leaves Kageo’s throat as he takes in the new piece of information. He then gets to work, finishing the rest of the preparation by mixing two said packets together. The fusion of butter and cheese gives Soongu’s nose a funny tingle, though he isn’t that hungry yet to ask for a bite.

Kageo looks quite amazed at his handiwork, watching as the ramen turns from platinum blonde to a shade of amber—coating in the Buldak sauce and cream powder. Unable to resist, the boy digs in. The flavors left an instant impression on his taste buds, and Kageo’s eyes widened almost comically.

“This is amazing!”

Danbi beams at the heartfelt praise, even if it isn’t directed at her. “I’m glad! This brand is popular worldwide. Let me know if you need anything else!”

The conversation ends on a comfortable note, with Kageo giving her a quick thank you before heading out to join Jiwon and Simon on the tables outside, whose heads are probably buried in another meaningless argument. Danbi, all smiles and relaxed shoulders, turns back to arranging the drinks into the freezer. She doesn’t seem to mind the silence that follows, nor the fact that Soongu is still here, leaning against the wall a few steps away. She doesn’t even spare him a glance.

And he isn’t paranoid, definitely not—anyone and anything he’s wary of always turns out to be a threat in the end. Soongu just can’t let loose; he doesn’t know how to. The cool tiles tickle the Apostle’s scalp, his ears buzzing with soft mechanical hums from the AC running above. It’s awfully bright in here, and the more he looks, the more spots and afterimages blind his vision.

Fuck, he needs some nicotine to think.

And a beer.

Nicotine and beer.

Soongu fishes into his pants pockets for a nonexistent cigarette, his chest rumbling with a quiet groan. Of course it isn’t there; he barely smoked this month. He sees Danbi in the corner of his eyes, hands on her lap while she sits on her haunches. She stares at him unblinkingly like he’s strange. Like he’s not a real person. And maybe that’s all he needs. Maybe Soongu doesn’t want to drag the painful interaction out longer than a few surface-level exchanges.

Maybe he’s just that pent-up.

But Danbi smiles again with a glow of satisfaction. She gets up and makes her way towards him, spreading her palms out to reveal a pack of Zest like she’s treating Halloween’s candies to the neighbor’s kids.

“Last one in stock.” The girl goes on like nothing happened; the same customer service smile with a small hint of sugary emptiness. “Enjoy.”

And Soongu doesn’t know how to feel. He’s very much skeptical, some part impressed, yet not at all touched by the deceitfully thoughtful gesture. There’s a stark difference in how Danbi hugs Jiwon back, shakes Simon’s hand, and guides Kageo through a simple routine versus the stench of death she has been subtly reeking from every small pore on her body.

“And,” the corner of Soongu’s lips curl up into a smirk. It takes two to tango, “how exactly would you know?”

Danbi lets out a small sigh, tilting her head slightly to the side with her arms crossed. A wistful look graces her face, and only there does he finally pick up the first glimpse of blood relation between her and his blind comrade.

“That was all the guys in Glory ever bought when they crashed.” The way she sounds it out genuinely feels like a complaint. “Lo Crux isn’t out of the equation, but that’s for older men.”

What a theory. Soongu’s fingers graze one edge of the pack. The sticker and thin wrapper are already peeled, though the whole thing inside remains untouched.

“Why not?” He quips. “Can’t a young man enjoy his cigar?”

“Not really...”

Danbi giggles, leaning closer.

“Unless you’re Peter.”

Soongu froze, his spine growing cold just as the tiles behind him.

But she provides an easy out, clasping her hands together with a sheepish smile. “Welp, that’s just me though! Everybody has their own preference.”

She places the empty box on the ground aside, leaving him to comprehend her words. And that’s it. The girl crouches down and grabs a few cans of beer when she opens the freezer door with one hand, balancing the drinks in the other. Danbi looks at him with a cheerfulness that is hard-wired into her facial muscles, just the right amount of casual insanity to keep the Apostle guessing.

“Give these to her, ok?” She nags him in an easygoing voice, passing them after she dumps the cans into a 7-11 plastic bag. And Soongu takes it. It’s mainly for Jiwon, but they are all likely to share everything later. One look inside reveals more and more boozes, some brands he vaguely recalls to be his friend’s favorites two decades ago before she trades them for high-end goods.

Eating at a well-known local BBQ and hitting a karaoke booth until morning are their ultimate goal for tonight. He’s sure swinging by here has just been an added bonus for Jiwon to see her sibling and grab beers on the way. Soongu stops humoring Danbi’s mind games for a while, opting to let his gaze trail naturally along the see-through glasses that wall this place with the world outside.

The moving smudges of brown, gray, and white in the distance are his friends. Comrades. And he appreciates them. He really does. There’s always more to their bond than that of people who share a mutual goal to take down Glory—there’s a common ground too. A dynamic he finds himself growing comfortable with. They knew who he really was, and Soongu thinks it’s nice: he doesn’t have to put up a mask like he does around Yuna and the Doggo brothers. Around them, he can just simply be him.

A dysfunctional family, but still a family nonetheless.

Danbi watches in his peripheral vision, a curious look etched on her face. When the Apostle pulls up to the counter to check out, she waves her hands dismissively with a smile; Jiwon slipped her something much more valuable under the table.

—

You click the door shut behind you, staring up at the ceiling.

They gang up, and you can mostly get behind that logic.

Kageo is little more than emotionally driven at the moment, but there is plenty of room to grow once the pain mellows out. Simon, too. Goofy and unserious as he is, the man was Peter’s best student back in their days. Even if Jiwon is no match for Johan and his god-like echolocation, she’s still a formidable opponent on her own. Overall a team… a strong one. If they can make it work, they’re bound to be an eyesore for Glory in the long run.

Then why the hell is he there?

That guy is undoubtedly Kim Soongu, the face you saw digging through the pile of documents one night after Nathaniel’s comment about a certain newbie piqued your interest—you weren’t impressed with what you found. Average stats, average height, no remarkable features. What potential was there to tap into?

Washing down the budding bit of annoyance with a huff, you lean against the hollow metal surface of the door.

“Danbi, is there really no cigarette left?~”

No answer.

“Oh.”

You let out a soft chuckle.

A few footsteps forward, Danbi’s body rots away near the entrance leading to the store’s dumpster area. She was like that when you first found her—on her stomach with cheeks caked in a thin layer of mud and rainwater. She’s neither moving nor breathing—her skin grows cold and her muscles become stiff. Even then, Jiwon hadn’t been able to pick up the telltale signs of strangeness and death in your movement—letting her guard down around the ones she called family.

“Huh,” you nudge her corpse with one foot, just enough to get her lifeless eyes to meet yours. “a seizure it is. That surgery sure fucked you up.”

Well, not that’s any of your business!

She’s dead, the security camera is down, 7-11 is empty, and you have a new bedtime story to tell Raphael tonight. Leaving through the door in the back, you bid Danbi farewell with a smile.

Her body is found in the morning.

#killer peter #killer peter manhwa #killer peter x reader #manhwa x reader #reader insert #x reader #killer peter simon #killer peter jiwon #manhwa #killer pietro #x female reader #fem reader

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just-some-user-hunny · 6 months ago

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I hope Isekai!reader is firmly team green I’m sick and tired of characters born to Alicent being team black 💀 also I need to see her getting along with her platonic yandere FULL-blooded siblings instead of Rhaenyra (I beg you I don’t want to see her around here 😔🙏)

I think it'd be fun to write for team Green, I adore Helaena and Aemond's character, they're so interesting :) I really want to do some stuff on Alicent too, there's so much to get and it'd be fun to navigate what kind of relationship the reader would have with her in a yandere situation. She's really always done what she's been told to do, always following orders, even at her own expense. She's given and given, and although I think she is a questionable mother, I do feel so sad for her because she could have had such a wonderful life if it weren't for the people around her :( for once she has something- someone of her own.

I always see the comparisons of her children representing parts of herself, and for a yandere Alicent I feel that reader would represent the part of herself that dreamed for more outside the confinements of her life. You'd be her joy for life, and she's obsessively possessive over you. Perhaps since you'd be isekaid, you'd have a deeper understanding of her character as a whole. It's like you know her better than herself, and for once she feels seen. Not the heir creator, not the powerless queen, not the screeching mad woman. Just her. Just Alicent. You'd be her precious one, the only person who can see deep into her very soul and not recoil in disgust- only understanding. She needs that. She needs you.

Having her three children as your siblings as well would be another trial of its own. Still, going on the isikai!reader perspective, you've seen them grow up through your screen. Seen the challenges they've endured, so they'd also feel that attachment to you through your empathy and understanding.

Aegon would love you because you listen to him. He's seldom met with your eye rolls or enraged scoldings, and he deeply appreciates that. With you, he can smile. Genuinely smile. The one that makes his eyes crinkle like crescent moons and his smile lines to wrinkle like the ripplings in a still pond. He practically glows in your presence, like the sun.

Heleana, the sweet girl, often feels that you are the only one who can see her. You listen to her with full attention to her dreamy mutters and ramblings, never once raising a brow or finding her odd. You indulge in her fascination with bugs, and may even join her in collecting them out in the garden together. You two would be especially close, as she can't say she has many close friends like you, the person she can happily call her sibling. She is different, and you embrace that. Embrace her, and that's all she could ask from whilst in a family where she is often ignored.

And Aemond? Oh he is an interesting specimen. He's riddled with loneliness and lack of care, the added fire of his rage and cunning wit creating a frightening combination. He'd be extremely protective over you, often shielding you from harm and consoling you if anything upsets you. He's a little different, because although he takes as much affection and care as he can get from you like his siblings and mother, he also enjoys giving it back tenfold. Taking you out riding under his supervision, joining you in the gardens to read, having you watch him train. Your other family members would most likely keep you locked up tight in the castle to keep you as safe as possible, but he wants to give you at least some taste of freedom. As long as you are kept in his line of sight, of course :)

I may write more on isekai!reader since it's a fun concept, and delve into some more writing on team green. I adore Rhaenyra and team black, but both have plenty to explore and pick apart :)

#asks #isekai!#isekai!reader #hotd #yandere hotd #platonic yandere house of the dragon #yandere house of the dragon #yandere helaena targaryen #yandere aegon x reader #yandere aemond targaryen #yandere alicent

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just1cefor4ll · 9 months ago

Note

Hiii

Could we get a oneshot about the group(reader is a part of it) having a sleepover after escaping the phantom realm? (throw in some aiden x reader. I am absolutely feral for that boy)

Take as much time as needed! (since you should probably write about the other characters a little more-)

-🤍anon

Sleepy kisses

Aiden Clark x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: swearing, bad grammar

A/N: sorry for the wait!! hope you didn’t lose hope and that I wouldn’t write your request haha

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“Come on guys the movie is about to start!” Taylor yells as everyone settles down on the coach, you and Aiden on a large bean bag his parents owned. Wow that boy is rich. You were watching some random horror movie Aiden saw on tik tok so of course, you had to watch it. It was one of those disturbing movies so you guys didn’t get much food, just in case. Aidens hands were on your thighs which were in his lap, your head on his shoulder.

Everything was going smoothly, you were slowly getting lulled to sleep by the movie (which was surprising since most of the group was actually awake and disgusted) until the power went out. Some cursed, some screamed.. it was a funny sight. You groaned, covering your ears. “Alright whatever, I’m not fucking tired yet, let’s tell funny stories.” Everyone perks up and get up, lighting up a candle in the middle of the living room on the coffee table. It didn’t really light up the room that much but you could at least see something. Tyler grumbled, saying something about Aiden being indecisive and that he wanted to sleep just a second ago. “Okay, who wants to go first?” Aiden asks and everyones stays silent. You all look at each other and then at Aiden. “I see none of us wanna do this so.. how about truth or dare?” You speak up, the rest of the group along with Aiden agreeing.

Worst.decision.ever. Tyler ended up with a full face of make up, Ashlyn had to do some crazy ass yoga move with Taylor, Logan had to eat a spoon full of cinnamon, Aiden jumped from the second floor of their house onto the bean bag (which is slightly torn now) and then there was you, waiting for your turn which you were glad nobody was currently thinking about. “Alright, whose turn is it?” Tyler asks, eyeing you, Taylor and Ben, since you guys were the one that didn’t go just yet. He smirks at you and you shake your head no. “Y/N~ Truth or dare?” He asks and you shrug. “Dare I guess.” You look over at Aiden who looked like he was about to pass out from exhaustion which was a rare sight. “Those energy drink are catching up to his sleep schedule.” You think to yourself and look back at Tyler. “I dare you..” He starts and thinks about a good dare, silence engulfing the room for about few minutes. “Okay I got one, I dare you to kiss Aiden.” He smirks and you look over at Aiden who quickly sat up, eagerly waiting for your kiss. Your face reddens slightly, noticing Ash and Taylor taking out their phones that blinded you since they had flash on. You lean towards Aiden who cupped your cheek, your lips meeting in a quick, but sweet kiss.

Everyone cheers, a few whistles from Tyler, backed up by laughter. Your face reddens but you just laugh it off with the rest of the group. After a few more rounds, you all decided to actually go to sleep since it was almost 2am. You rested your head on Aidens chest, wrapping your arms around his stomach. His nose was nuzzled in your cheek, both of you comfortable in your positions. Your eyes start to feel heavy, slowly starting to loose consciousness when you feel a kiss on your cheek. You smile softly, turning around to face Aiden and cup his cheek, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. Before you could pull away, he weakly pulls you back into a longer kiss. You finally pull away for breath, smiling at each other like two love sick idiots. You finally feel yourself falling asleep, your whole world turning black.

You wake up in the morning to the sound of people talking, opening your eyes you see almost everyone awake. You sit up, walking to your backpack with your stuff and grab fresh clothes and things you need to freshen up, walking to the bathroom to do thise things. You think anout last night, wondering what you and Aiden were. You thought it would be best to ask him today, you you will later when you are alone. You get out of the bathroom, waving everyone goodbye since most of them needed to go home first before going out again. You sit down next to Aiden who almost instantly put his arm around you, kissing you on the cheek. “Good morning my love~” He says and you smile at him lovingly, but then cup his cheeks to make him look at you. “Alright, I need to ask you something cuz I haven’t been sleeping comfortably tonight.” “Well it looked like you were pretty comfortable last ni—” You shut him up with a playful smack on the chest and glare. “Alright, alright im listening.” He says, playing with your fingers. You suddenly get a burst of nervousness, but try your best to shrug it off. “Well.. this will be a bit of an odd question but.. what exactly.. are we?” You ask, making him snap his eyes at you. He looks a bit confused but sighs. “I guess I need to say it don’t I..” He says and you nod; “That would be nice of you.” He chuckles at your bitterness, holding onto your hands; “Y/N.. I love you to the moon and even farther.. I couldn’t imagine life without you. So.. Will you.. be my.. s/o?” He asks awkwardly and you nod eagerly. “Yes! A hundred times yes!” You say enthusiastically and lean in for a kiss, a more sweet one than the one you had last night. Those were some sleepy kisses.

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bellestrinkets · 19 days ago

Text

the whole discourse of whether arthur would be this or that (pejorative) in the modern world is so tired, so tired in fact it should go back to sleep. would he be misogynistic? would he be racist? buddy, have you played the game? have you stopped and read his journal entries? have you stopped and talked to the members at camp?

some either disregard him completely of being this or the other because he wouldn’t “understand”, however, I think that’s just reducing his character to this naive man who he is not. some others fail and see his character at a very surface level, “oh he took the money to protect penelope in that suffragette mission, he didn’t really care much” yes, he took the money, did you also read what he wrote on his journal? no? well, here it is;

“Suddenly I’m marching as a suffragette. The looks of loathing on the faces of the locals delighted me while their leader — a Mrs. Calhoun amused me. I don’t know much about good causes, nor the joys of democracy, but I enjoyed my little experience riding alongside them.

World is certainly changing fast.”

it not only tells you literally the perspective arthur has on the situation but it also showcases intelligence within its writing, the way it’s phrased, the wording, the insightfulness and capacity to dissect how he felt about it

“nor the joys of democracy” I don’t know why, it always has caught my attention when I read the passage, it connects heavily with the phrase he says to the suffragette back in Saint Denis, “anyone dumb enough to wanna vote, I say go for it”. this man is anti government, not anti women’s suffrage, not anti women. he does not like the changes america is undergoing and what’s becoming of it, a big part to blame for that is the government (greedy and corrupt as always) and he sees it and wishes to remove himself from it (civilization as they call it).

shady belle, episode 4, tilly approaches you when you go to camp and strongly voices her fear of being too far south. if you haven’t caught on yet why, you may need a history lesson. but even then, the game does the work for you, she’s a black woman im the south, she’s afraid of what may happen to her because she’s a black woman in the south. and arthur understands it, he doesn’t need further explanation, he knows.

that is also why I’m so keen on disagreeing with those who say, “he doesn’t know about racism/doesn’t understand racism” he’s not dumb, he’s not five. he’s not racist and that’s it, there’s no more explanation I can give you on that. it just feels really reducing and simplistic when that is the counter argument people make to basically point out why he is not racist, he’s not and that’s it.

arthur morgan is not a good man, but he’s not all bad either and there’s beauty in that (character wise). enjoy the richness of the writing and let’s put our thinking caps for a moment because I’m afraid all I said was just there in the game, but apparently it may have flown over some heads.

#red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #red dead redemption arthur #rdr2 #red dead redemption playthrough #ramblings #like y’all enjoy the game and not only the killing #red dead redemption #red dead redemption community

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eternal-love · 17 days ago

Note

I’m having a really bad day today, gimmie some Benny smut I know you’ve got something in that brain of yours 🤍

LEAVE

Pairing: Benny Cross x reader

Summary: You try to leave Benny, but he has other plans.

Warning: smut, toxic relationship, Benny being a pathetic ass, reader has a child, Benny gets physically violent.

Note: Couldn’t deny Miss Cross herself y’know? 😏I know I’m not as good writing smut but I do my best for you. Hope you get better and this makes you feel better! 🫶💗

Also, this is heavily inspired by a combo @aust-een and I had about how Jeff held back a lot from what the real Benny could have been. I just know Benny wasn’t this quiet nonchalant thing. He was jealous, possessive and violent.

Your life was monotonous, you woke up, got ready, had breakfast, went to your job, put your with annoying customers, came back home, slept. Repeat. That was up until you met Benny.

Your life did a 180, in your routine and emotionally too. Benny was an interesting character, he was a mistery to a lot of people. And to you too, your friend warned you to not even look in his direction, he was always cruising for a bruising. Him and his bike were in for any sort of trouble. That’s what drew you to him.

Your last boyfriend was too plain, too vanilla. You often sought out a way to create any sort of tension. With Benny, that wasn’t necessary. He was the problem himself. With you having to bail him out of jail more times that you liked to admit it. A part of you knew this wasn’t healthy. Specially not for your son, he saw everything.

Benny lived in your house, so, obviously you were the head of the house, you worked and brought in the money. But Benny didn’t care, he flouted in and out the house as he pleased. Anxiety ruled over you, not knowing if he would come back or not. You could stay awake all night just waiting for him.

At some point, you knew it had to be over, it wasn’t healthy anymore and you spent days more stressed than happy. So you waited for him to come back. You had put your son to bed upstairs. Your leg bouncing as you drank a beer, you heard the front door open and you saw Benny come in, black boots stomping on the wooden floor.

“What are you doin’ awake still?” Benny spoke up as he saw you in the couch, his eyes a bit tired as well as his voice.

“Waitin’ for you.” You said, putting out the cigarette on the ashtray.

“You ain’t gotta do that.” Benny scoffed, he took his pack of Marlboro Reds out his pocket and lit up just one, he walked towards the kitchen and grabbed a beer. He looked around, no food. “No food tonight, I see. That’s how you care for your man?”

“It’s too late at night, only cooked for Robbie and I.” You said, you stared at him as he walked around. He just smirked in disbelief at what you said.

“What’s with the face?” He asked you as he came back to the living room, taking another hit from the cigarette.

“I want to talk to you about something.” You said, taking in a deep breath.

“I don’t want to hear it.” Benny rolled his eyes.

He had been off and weird lately, you had believed you were crazy but no, you started to accept that he was in fact different.

“I can’t live like this no more, Benny.” You confessed as you stood up, your hands on your hips. “This ain’t right. Not for me or my Robbie. I want you to leave.”

You said, it took everything in you to get the words out of you. Because you didn’t know how he would react.

Benny pressed his lips together as he took a deep drag from the cigarette, shaking his head. “That ain’t happening. I ain’t leavin’.”

Benny was hard headed and he did not follow nobody. If he was told to do something, he did the opposite, but you were tired. Of everything.

“It’s not a question, Benny. I can’t keep carrying on like this. It’s eating me alive.” You said, trying to appear firm as you stood up.

“You can’t keep carrying on like this?” He repeated your words, you could easily tell he was mocking you. “What else did you think this would be?”

You stared at Benny in disbelief, a part of you thought you could have changed him. Make him more responsible, more emotionally present, more anything, but no. He was still the same troublemaker you met. It hurt you to kick him out but there wasn’t any other choice.

“I just want you to leave. Get your things and leave.” You said, the words getting stuck in your throat.

“So you can bring in another man? Who you gonna bring next? Cal or that son of a bitch with the camera?” Benny accused you, he was very jealous and possessive. He didn’t like bringing you to meeting too much, specially not when Danny or Cal talked to you. There was a reason he didn’t let you meet up with Danny to do his interviews.

“What are you even talking about, Benny? This is about us. You and I!” You snapped, he always tried to blame others for everything, because in his own words ‘he never asked anyone for anything’.

“Don’t even yell at me. Watch it.” He said, his voice monotone.

“I’m tired of you leaving without saying anything. And expecting me to take you back. I can’t keep waitin’ on ya. I just can’t. So please, leave. Because I can’t handle you being a son of a bitch anymore.”

Oh, that set him on fire. You, calling him a son of a bitch. He didn’t like that. There was a silence in which he clenched his jaw, put out the cigarette into the decorative table by his side.

“Right?” Benny said calmly before he snapped. And he threw the decorative table to the floor, making the flower vase break down to little pieces.

You flinched, Benny had his violent outburst, you hadn’t quite gotten used to them yet. Throwing beer bottles or anything on his reach. His nonchalant demeanor was something that was only a façade to either give you the cold shoulder or appear more brave with the club.

As soon as he walked towards you, you backed off, only for Benny to grab you by the neck.

“Who do you think you are?” Benny growled, his voice always held that nonchalant tone to it. Which you hated. You never knew if he did this because he cared and wanted to stay or just for the fun of it. “I ain’t asking anything from you, so you can’t come here askin’ anything from me.”

Benny was so close to your face, his hand wasn’t really gripping your neck tightly but he was holding you hard enough to scare you.

“I ain’t gonna let you go around like one of them loose women. You’re mine. Mine. You get it?” Benny whispered in your ear.

But you wanted this to end. For your son.

“I ain’t doing this because I don’t love you. I do it for my son.”

“I really don’t give a shit about your son. Never did and never will, doll.” Benny scoffed. “I should listen to what you’ve told me, give you a baby so you can finally shut up. So that I’ll never be able to fully leave you.”

Benny placed his knee in between your legs, pressing it against your core. Making you shiver, most of the time, Benny having you by the neck turned you on immediately, and it was working right now.

“You don’t want me to leave, do you?” Benny purred in your ear. “No words now? Did the cat get your tongue?”

Benny leaned in and kissed your lips, the friction of his knee with your core sent shivers across your body. You wanted to rip off his clothes, and so he did. He ripped open your shirt, those cheap buttons didn’t stand a chance.

“How many times have I told you I hate these clothes? Mhm?” Benny whispered. It was a two piece set, the sleeveless button shirt and the matching shorts. It was a look that was in right now, you had wanted to fit in. Albeit, Benny didn’t enjoy it. “You want everyone to look, don’t ya? Everyone. There’s a reason why I got you that jacket.”

Benny pulled you to the couch, throwing you into it. The jacket was the one that had ‘Property of Benny’ in the back, made you wear it every time there was a meeting.

Benny got rid of his colors, his jacket and vest on the floor as well as his worn out white tshirt, he got on top of you. His lips finding their way to yours, you tasted the whisky on his lips, made you hum. You were enjoying how aggressive he got at times.

His hand traveled from your hair to your breast, squeezing it through your bra, you moaned on his lips, your back trying to arch but his body blocked you from doing so. Then his hand traveled all the way to inside your shorts, his touch feather-like as he caressed you over your underwear, your toes curled up at the feeling, you shivered once again.

“My doll is so desperate. I thought she wanted me to leave.” He kept rubbing you over your underwear. You let out breathy moans.

You wanted to deny it. But you couldn’t even speak properly. He wasn’t even doing anything extreme and you were already losing it.

He worked with his hands, he was so masculine. The smell of Marlboro Red filled your nostrils. It made you so— ugh. You couldn’t get enough of it, or him. Even if part of you hated it, there was something about him that you couldn’t reject.

“I’m gonna make sure— everyone in the fuckin’ street knows who you belong to. Alright?” Benny grunted as he undid his pants, he was as hard as he ever was when he’s with you.

And to be fair, your ex-in laws lived next door. You were in for a ride as soon as he pulled down your shorts and underwear. His boxers came down as well.

“Don’t be quiet.” Benny said, as he filled you up with his cock in one swift thrust.

“Motherfucker!” You moaned out loudly, loud enough to blush afterwards. You saw his smirk.

He liked how he got to you. How much you were willing to put up from him. His thrusts were anything but gentle, the sound of skin slapping, moaning and grunting filled the living room.

“You like it? Hmm?” Benny asked as he relentlessly fucked you in the couch, but this want his favorite position, not at all. He found it boring to say the least.

Your eyes were rolling back, your mouth open and filthy noises escaped your lips, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Move.” He said as he pulled out of you, you whimpered when you stopped feeling his cock. Damn, that’s how much you needed him.

Eventually he manhandled you, he threw you around until you were in all fours. He was behind you and without any sort of mercy, he pounded into you from behind, his cock filling you up, giving you pleasure like no other.

“Benny… p-please” You whined, it was too much, he was too much. All of him.

“What? I’m sorry, can’t hear you.” Benny said, as his hand reached to grab your throat, squeezing the air you had.

It was the adrenaline of having no air combined with the pleasure of it. It gave you too much ecstasy. You didn’t even remember the last time he fucked you like this.

“I’ll leave whenever I want.” Benny whispered in your ear as he kept choking you, you tried to grasp on whatever air was possible. But it was in vain, and after a while, he withdrew his hand from your throat and slowly made its way down to your clit.

That was your breaking point and you couldn’t hold back your moans anymore. Every moan that came out of you came from the deepest of your soul.

His hand worked wonders on your clit, making you feel overstimulated, waiting for that usual feeling for being close to the edge.

“Keep… g-going” you managed to mutter through the moans. As his cock kept filling you up, you knew no guy could ever compare to him.

Not even one. And you didn’t even dare to think of it. Afraid that he could read your mind and get mad.

“We’re gonna have a baby. So you won’t ever kick me out again. So that your brat of a son— knows his place.” Benny kept going even faster and harder, it seemed like he was on the edge. “And so that photographer son of a bitch knows that you’re taken.”

“Benny!” You yelled as Benny hit that sweet spot of yours, pleasure erupted as you finished, your muscles relaxing immediately.

He kept fucking you, for at least a minute more before you heard his voice falter, his breath ragged. “Oh, f-fuck…”

Benny filled you up, made sure to not waste a single drop of his cum. After all, he wanted you heavy with his baby in a few months. He couldn’t wait to see your son’s face. That little brat. Knowing his mommy wouldn’t get rid of him.

“So good for me…” Benny leaned over you, whispering in your ear. “If you tell me to do anything ever again, I’ll do the opposite. Okay?”

#austin butler #austinbutler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic #austin butler fandom #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler is so hot #benny cross x y/n #benny cross x reader #the bikeriders 2022 #the bikeriders benny #benny cross #austin butler smut #austin butler smut fic

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