#all i want is HIM NOW. AGAINST MY WILL OR GOOD JUDGEMENT. THIS IS A CRY FOR HELP.

[sencrose]

— WHO ARE YOU, REALLY?

pairing: naoya zenin x f!reader, implied feelings involving naomaki

tags: dead dove do not eat. dubcon, angst?, reader is described as having a similar appearance to maki (mostly in hairstyle), incestuous undertones, physical abuse (against maki, sorry queen) established relationship, throatfucking, no prep, rough sex, pain during sex, (condescending) praise, hair pulling, internalized misogyny

wc: 3.2k

summary: You do not know what your husband sees in you. For better or worse, you learn.

a/n: back on my writing horrible things about naoya bullshit!! ngl this was weird to write but i also had a lot of fun with it. big thank you to @blueparadis for beta reading this for me <3 please read the tags and proceed with caution. ao3 link here

tagging: @pixelcafe-network @jellyfishsart

You do not know what your husband sees in you. 

It is not that you are without merit, but you are, simply put, plain. A weed in a field of flowers in full bloom. The diet that follows after a bad bout of the stomach flu. A satellite in the night sky that might be mistaken for a star — until it glides past far too quickly to be one, much to an onlooker’s disappointment. 

You know what power the Zen’in clan holds. The kind of power where even the most upstanding of sons will poison their fathers just for a taste. The paranoia that comes with it, the rumors of potential traitors whispered between paper doors is enough to keep anyone on edge. 

With all of that in mind, you know in your heart of hearts you are not the type of person the next head of the clan would pursue. 

Yet you were told he picked you out by hand, out of the dozens of matchmaking papers given to him. Applicants that began and ended on ink, their names, birthdays, and occupations, were discarded without a care of who they were,, or who they could have been. 

What an honor, you were told. 

So you packed up your things with a judgemental eye, preparing yourself for the worst when you arrive. Would they let you keep a stuffed animal that was a birthday gift from a friend, or is that too childish? What about this shirt — is it conservative enough or will it bring unwanted attention?

You left most things behind. 

—

Every now and then, you recall a conversation you had with your mother shared over a plate of cut fruit, shortly before you received the news from the Zen’in clan. It comes to you whenever you see the young girls rushing through the corridors, hands holding a stack of sheets that tower over them. 

“Do you have any dreams?” she asked, carving the skin of an apple, the crimson peel spiraling under her skillful thumb, “Ambitions?”

She tended to ask this now and then. It’s natural, you assumed; a mother’s desire to know anything and everything there is to know about their child. 

It’s hard to remember or keep track of all the answers you’ve given her. All you know is that they’ve become less ambitious over the years. From huffing your chest out and saying you’ll be an astronaut who lives out in the stars with the profound confidence only a child could have, to something less spectacular, more mundane. 

You didn’t have much luck becoming a sorcerer, which shrunk your options. Maybe you’d go to school. Maybe get a degree, get some kind of corporate job, waste your life away in a gray office cubicle. 

But none of those are dreams. Obligations, perhaps.

“No, not really,” you replied, detached from the conversation. It was the truth. 

She patted you on the back, comfortingly. “Ah, that’s a good thing. You don’t want to be greedy.”

You still don’t know what she meant by that, but you also made no effort to ask for clarification. The words simmered low and steady until it burned and branded itself in your head.

As if to pull you out of your thoughts, your mother handed you a slice, an offering. Despite her words, you wondered if it was consolation. 

—

Even after some time has passed since your arrival, you do not know what your husband sees in you. You’re not sure he sees you at all. 

His touch is few and far between. 

To your surprise, on the night of your wedding you did not consummate your marriage. It happened two weeks after, and it was not what you expected from someone who had supposedly picked you out on his own accord. 

It was anything but gentle. You learned quickly that Naoya Zen’in is not a patient man.

Rough hands were grabbing anywhere, everywhere. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was trying to devour you. 

Nothing placated him. When you gazed up at him teary-eyed with soft pleas to go slower, you only made things worse. Hands grabbed onto your form to flip you over, push your face into the sheets so he didn’t have to hear your protests. Fingers pressed deep into the dip of your waist, so hard you worried about bruises forming (they did). 

Once he got what he wanted out of you, he tossed you to the side. As if you were some random girl he just happened to pick up for the night, someone he hoped would be gone come morning. 

As if you weren’t his wife. 

It was the first time in a long time that you realized, maybe, you had wants. Desires. To do something instead of having something done onto you. 

But your mother’s words haunt you. 

You don’t want to be greedy. 

—

For the first time since arriving at the estate, you have a hint of what your husband sees in you.

You don’t think you’re supposed to see it. You don’t think you’re supposed to be here at all.  

A girl lies on the floor of the open courtyard, her head underneath Naoya’s heel.

It’s like looking into a mirror, though a bit distorted. The image is similar, but the puzzle pieces filling in the gaps are all different.

Her hair is much like yours, though the strands that frame her face hang like blades, sharpened, ready to cut anyone who gets too close. 

You don’t have that type of intensity around you. The pieces of hair that frame your face soften your features. Wispy, uncertain shapes that blow away with the slightest puff of wind. 

The similarities start and end there. 

Though she’s younger than you, she wears a hardened expression, one you always thought would come to you with age. You realize now that you must’ve had it easy when you see how she wears it like it’s all she’s ever known. 

Although you go unnoticed by your husband, the girl acknowledges your presence. Her gaze meets yours, fury ablaze in her eyes, along with something else you don’t recognize. Your legs react before you even realize, taking a step back. 

Even with her body pressed into the ground in submission, you can tell she is anything but. It’s written candidly on her face, teeth bared to the world, begging for flesh to dig into.

Your husband must be a blind fool. Even you can see from a distance that she’s a wild animal in human form, just waiting for a chance to break the chains of her enclosure. You feel it in her stare, how she strips you down to a state even Naoya hasn’t witnessed. You don’t like it. How her eyes hone in on you like a lion staring down its prey.

Then again, would you even be considered prey? Even a rabbit has a fighting chance at running away. You do not know how to run. Not towards a goal, and certainly not away from danger.

But you can still walk. Walk while you can and you can forget you’ve ever seen this. Stuff it back in the recesses of your mind, back where you wrote off wants and desires and greed all those years ago.

You don’t walk away fast enough.

When you hear her name slip from your husband’s lips, your stomach freefalls. 

You haven’t been at the estate for long, but you know of her. Everyone does. You just never had the chance to put a name to a face. Maki Zen’in, one half of the clan disappointment, alongside her twin sister. It goes without saying that you also know of the ties that connect them.

You know your husband is a cruel man. He has to be; it’s practically a requirement for someone of his power and status. But it’s hard to watch when it’s laid out so plainly in front of you. Even so, you stay.

You watch with a tightness in your chest as he pulls her up by the base of her ponytail before throwing her back onto the ground, gravel and dust dispersed in the air from the impact.

Anger lights a fire in his eyes. No matter what he does, he doesn’t seem to get the reaction he wants, or much of a reaction at all. She takes it in stride, only emitting hushed grunts when he kicks her. While you flinch at the volume of his voice rising, she boldly sneers at his frustration.

You meet her eyes again. 

She laughs. 

It isn’t to piss off Naoya. No, it’s directed at you. The bystander who’ll go on with her day like nothing ever happened, even after witnessing the horrific abuse doled out at the hands of her husband.

Even though she doesn’t hold an ounce of cursed energy in her veins, you know what she thinks of you. You hear it in the dry chuckle she lets out before Naoya kicks her again.

You’re cursed. 

How pitiful. 

—

You’re sure he’s ranting about something, maybe something Naobito did, but you can’t bring yourself to listen to him. All you can think about is the girl in the courtyard, with an ire in her eyes you’ve never seen before. When was the last time you looked like that? Felt something so intense it radiated off of your very being, so bright and radiant it couldn’t be ignored? Have you ever had that kind of fighting spirit in you?

A stagnant silence brings you back. You vacantly stare back at your husband. It was your turn to speak for once. You perk up at the opportunity, though you’re unsure how to seize it.

“Sorry. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”

“Well that’s the thing, isn’t it? You don’t need to say anything. C’mere.”

He pulls you in closer, his hand petting your head. It’s the only time he shows any semblance of gentleness, a cruel way of lulling you into a false sense of security. You know what comes next. His hand presses against your head, lower, lower, until you’re nestled against his crotch. Naoya looks at you, expectantly. 

Your fingers wrap around the cotton ties that hold his hakama pants, pulling with a tug. From there, the fabric falls easily, more so once you reach around his waist to undo the tension from the straps. 

You steel yourself to do what you’ve always done, though something sits in the back of your mind. 

You get him to groan with a long stroke of your tongue on the underside of his cock. Build yourself up to taking his entire length into his mouth, inch by dreadful inch, but it’s hard. By the time you swallow him whole, you can feel his tip pressing against the back of your throat. You do your best to service him at a pace he’d be satisfied with, one you know is out of your skillset, dribbling spit and coughing softly whenever you go too deep.

But Naoya isn’t satisfied. He’s impatient, his fingers weaving through your hair, pulling tight before he quickens your pace to his own liking. It’s something you still haven’t gotten used to. The burning in your eyes, the gross wet sounds that leave your mouth as he bobs your head up and down like a toy.

“Fuck, you’re perfect. Take me in so well, don’t you?” His grip around your hair tightens.

He continues recklessly fucking your throat, ignoring all of the choked cough and garbled yelps you let out whenever he hits the back of your throat. All you can do is take it, ball your fists and fold your thumbs in, and hope that trick you learned about reducing your gag reflex isn’t just some urban legend.

Naoya removes yourself from him as roughly as he places you onto him. The rush of air is both a welcome one and sudden change, and you gasp and cough at the sensation.

“Wife,” He brandishes the title like a weapon, the blade of a dagger pressed against your neck.

“Tie your hair up for me, won’t you?” he poses it as a question, but you know you have no choice in the matter. 

Time freezes.

Your eyes shift and you find yourself fiddling with your fingers, hoping he will change his mind if you look up at him with a disarming plea in your eyes, but his gaze does not falter. His eyes only get darker, a dangerous amber that glows like a warning sign in the lowlight of your shared chamber, as he awaits you to fulfill his request. 

Maybe your husband doesn’t see you, but you have always seen him for who he is, even if you didn’t want to admit it. It shines more than ever, when he tilts his head and the corners of his lips upturn. A snake carefully wrapping itself around a rat, just one good squeeze away from keeping you in his clutches forever. Once again, you’re trapped and frozen with nowhere to go. Unfortunately, you play your part well without trying.

You shouldn’t be surprised. It probably runs in their blood.

Slowly, you tie your hair up, strands spilling between your fingertips as you pick them up again, gathering and pulling through the hair only halfway through the elastic, an unstable, floppy bun.

You don’t want to be greedy.

A ghost of unspoken words from your mother whispers against your ear, and maybe if you caught on a bit sooner, things would be different. What was she trying to tell you? What did she hold behind her tongue so cautiously?

Because that’s not how I raised you?

Because that’s not a woman’s place?

Because that’s not what makes a good wife?

But none of it sounds quite right.

And though the thoughts swirl and cloud your head, something else rings bright and clear through the murkiness. 

You want. You want to be wrong. You want it with an intensity you’ve never felt before in your life, a desire clawing its way out of your chest, desperate to see the light of day. 

It’s a good thing. You don’t want to be greedy.

Naoya gently tugs on the loop of hair with his fingers, almost intimately, and it makes your stomach curl. He pulls apart the strands in half to tighten it, until a ponytail reminiscent of the one you saw earlier today sits on top of your head. 

It is only in this moment the clouds in your mind disperse, the addendum your mother wanted to add clear as day.

Because all you will be left with is disappointment.

Even though you’re filled with unease, you follow his lead because it’s all you’ve ever known. He pulls on the waistband of your skirt before pushing his hand against your back, getting you in position to arch for him. 

His fingers drag against your slit, before sliding two of them inside your hole, ignoring any initial resistance. Another thing you learned about your husband is that he’s a determined man; to your dismay, it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t fit, he’ll make it fit. Even the stretch of his digits is uncomfortable, scissoring them inside you just to hear you whine under his touch. You wince when he withdraws them, tighten up when you feel something hot and hard pressed against you.

There’s no getting used to his size. Even if he took the time to prepare you properly, you’re sure it would still hurt – if not at the initial penetration, then at the frenzied thrusts that come shortly after. His plump cockhead nudges teasingly against your hole, poking and proding before pulling away. He likes to keep you on your toes, hear you whimper when he surprises you a rough thrust. 

Something about him seems more impatient than usual.

He pushes himself into you, and you bite down on your lip as he splits your walls apart in one swift movement. Over the course of your marriage, you’ve learned to wait out the pain, keep your breathing steady until he starts to move. But his pace never stays slow for long. It’s only a short moment before his hips slam into yours faster and you have to weave through the sheets and grip for stability.

“Naoya, ‘s too much,” you whine, voice high pitched and on the edge of sounding needy.

Without warning his hands wrap around your ponytail and he pulls tight. The sharp pain makes you wince, arch your back until you’re pressed flush against his chest.

“Talking back, are we?” he quips back.

“No, no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say, hushed and quiet. 

You don’t think he accepts your apology, not when he tugs a bit harder and gives you a thrust so deep it knocks the air out of your lungs. Whether he accepts it or not, he’s still enjoying himself. You hear it in the groans he lets out whenever he hits you deep inside and you moan at the impact, feel it in the way his other hand kneads your breast before giving your nipple a tug.

“You like this, don’t you?”

You wonder if his words are actually directed towards you, but you don’t think too hard about your response, falling back on your default mode of placating him.

“Mhm,” you hum softly.

“Then you won’t mind if I go harder, right?” he asks, but he doesn’t give you a chance to respond. There’s no smooth transition, he simply goes straight into fucking you harder.

His pace is dizzying, the slap of skin-to-skin echoing throughout the room as he fucks you.

He only gets louder and more desperate as his hips slam into yours. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him like this before. It makes your mind race, makes you wonder if he’s holding back his tongue to call out another name whenever he hums a bit too long in pleasure. Each sound he makes causes your heart to skip in terror and anticipation, but you never hear it. Still, it trembles. 

“Be a bit louder for me, ok?” he whispers in the shell of your ear. His hand traces down from your chest to your waist, lower until it reaches your aching clit. “I’ll even treat you tonight.”

The unexpected contact pushes you further into him, sends a shiver of tension up your spine. You don’t want to admit the pleasure boiling up in you, not like this, but your body doesn’t give you much of a choice. Your lips are the first line of defense to fall, high pitched moans you don’t recognize spilling so easily, naturally, as if it’s water leaking from a faucet.

Maybe he thinks you’re enjoying yourself just a bit too much, because the grip on your hair tightens once again. But it doesn’t stop the rush of warmth building up in your stomach, from your muscles tightening to prepare for your impending climax.

“Nao, I’m close, I’m close-”

Shame washes over you along with your orgasm, walls fluttering against his cock, as he fucks you through it. Naoya’s own climax follows shortly after yours, his hips thrusting harder until he stills with a shaky groan. 

Only once he removes himself from you, you collapse on to the bed, body spent. You cautiously reach for the hair tie, looking over at Naoya as you pull it out with a soft tug. He doesn’t stop you. 

You know what your husband sees in you.

You wish you didn’t see it too. 

[varilien]

as a kid i wanted soooooo badly to have a bill gijinka for my very own but i could never come up w one that didn't just feel like i was ripping off all my favorite fan designs for him at the time. and all this time later finally this one came out SO Perfect For Me that i think it's a little bit of a mistake actually like i didn't intend on becoming this obsessed with him ever again in my life but HERE WE ARE !!!

Palestine: Funds | Action | eSims | Info Sudan Resources | Congo Resources

u guys see what i mean tho. these are from like 2015(?) or smn and visibly just patterned off of what everyone else was doing at the time lol

[mars-ipan]

i do love my family very dearly but the internalized ableism the men in here struggle with is. so much

[00kittenz]

── desperation. ( psh ) 📠

pair: boss!sunghoon ㅊ employee!f!reader | warnings: smut, secret relationship, age gap (sunghoon is 10 years older), semi-public s.x (?), hoon is a needy boi, coercion, quickies, dirty talk, piv, no lube, no protection (don’t be like them!) | words: 1.4k

imagine boss!sunghoon being so needy n desperate for you at all times, he just can’t seem to keep his hands off you.. just needs to cop a feel whenever he can bc he’s that obsessed w you ;( he’s also willing to skip important business meetings just so he can bring you into his office when no one’s around and have you bent over his desk— loving the way your curves hug the work uniform in all the right places..

this is my very first ever post on enhablr !

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“please?” sunghoon’s desperation grew as time went on, nothing but lust clouding his judgement. he had you pushed up against his desk, caging his arms around the slope of your waist, hindering you from any retaliation, utterly defenseless in his hold.

“i promise i’ll be super quick..!” he pleads even more, pressing wet kisses all over your face, his pouty lips still lingering along the rim of your jaw afterwards. “just need you, so so sooo bad.”

sunghoon has been “negotiating” with you for the past ten-ish or so minutes, playing every trick in the book he possibly can in getting you to fold like a sunday lawn chair for him. what may have prompted all this you wonder ? well, he simply got hard at the sight of you and now you’re the one in ‘trouble’ because he can’t function while being bricked up at work. you two had an odd relationship to say the least… he was your boss, the man you reported to every day and pick up his morning coffee before he arrives at 8 AM sharp, but you also sleep with him sometimes?? (you thought it would be just a one off occurrence but sunghoon wanted it to be a more frequent, fwb type of deal..)

you were seriously hoping that he’d leave you alone today, you had a lot of work that needed to get done within a short timeframe and distractions weren’t going to do you any good, however, you couldn’t just say no to park sunghoon. there were dozens of other women who’d kill to be in your position, they already tried to seduce him one, two many times before— except you of course. you were like the golden employee who always followed orders, listened to directions the first time, and did everything the right way, he’s never really had to reprimand you and even on the rare chances you do mess up, he’d handle it with you in private; just like how he’s doing now.

hell, sunghoon makes it excruciatingly hard to resist him. especially when his breath inched beneath your ear, silky strands of jet black hair tickling your chin as he begs for your touch.

“i told you i was busy— hoon, s-stopp !” you helplessly whine, your mind kept telling you to refuse but your body was saying a completely different story. he knew exactly where to pull the pin, knew just how to make you give in to his not-so-safe-for-work desires.

“oh are we now ?, too busy for me ? what happened to wanting to get that new promotion, huh ?” he cocks his head to the side, turning arrogant all of a sudden now that he can use something as leverage over you. it’s a shame that he has to stoop to such low levels but he’s willing to try whatever method that’ll get him exactly what he wants.

as he whispers in further detail all the naughty things he wants to do to you, your legs were brought to a tight close, wanting nothing more than to relieve the ache you felt between your plush thighs; you feel dirty, disgusting for wanting your boss to fuck your brains out, it’s unprofessional, you shouldn’t be doing this— letting him have access to you whenever he wants almost felt dehumanizing.

though, you be lying if you said he didn't strike a bone in your body, maybe 3, or 4.. 10 at most. hell, maybe even all of them. some days you were able to keep your cool and act as though he had zero effect on you— however, he was just so unable to resist at times. you couldn’t help but be attracted to him; even if he was an asshole sometimes, you secretly liked it in a sick, twisted kind of way. if he was going to play this little game then you may as well play right along, plus you weren't gonna just walk around with soggy panties without getting something in return, right ? right.

“oh ? giving in already, guess you really do want it that bad, huh ?” he smirked childishly as you finally cave in, rubbing up against him, spreading and burying his knee between your thighs.

“shut up, do you wanna? or not ?” so over his annoying little antics, you gradually wiggled your hips against his toned, muscular thighs.

“it’s cute when you act all needy for me.” his hands caressed your waist, taking your leg to his hip, in effect your pencil skirt riding up your thigh.

you felt his clothed dick against your core as he pressed his body against you. sloppily taking your tongue against his.

you've always wondered how this man could get you so hot and sweaty all over a few words. then again, as long as you’re pleased; does it really matter ?

“fuck..” you spoke, hand grabbing at his tie, the melody of his luxury belt being unwrathed gave you a tsunami of chills. “quickly, i have a meeting in..” you checked you wrist, reading the analog watch that sat delicately along your veins. “15.” you heaved heavily, he tugged down your tights physically prepping himself with his hand.

“thats enough time to make me bust twice.” he chuckled. his length entered your puffy, dewy pussy.

“quick busser !” you laughed, knowing it'd strike a chord within whenever you tease him.

taking your ass in his hands before he paces himself. “you love when my dick coats your pussy in a thick coat. so, suck it.” he groaned, kissing onto your collarbone to keep himself quiet.

his office wasn't what people would call sound proof, but at a good distance from the door, nobody could be able to hear you. but keeping you quiet would deem to be the most difficult part.

sunghoon bear hugged you keeping you tight against him, he thought fucking you in your work attire, especially your tights, had to be the sexiest shit to dance on this earth. it's honestly why he's here. the way the thin black fabric wrapped around your thighs, he could just picture your sloppy pussy, wrapping around him. balls deep. and you took him so. so. so. well.

“ugh, yesyesyes..” your ragged breathing swam through his ears, giving him an ounce more of stamina. “shit !” your clit throbbed at his lower abdomens slight back to back friction, you grind up onto him, to feel more of that reminiscing release edging you.

he nibbled at your lips before taking them against his. “shut the fuck up. you dont— hell..wanna get caught do you ?” he swatted your thigh, thrusting himself at a slower, but rougher notion.

“fe—feel so good, nggh.. hoon..” you whispered, biting at his ear.

your forehead glistened with sweat, the buttons of your shirt leaving your perky breasts opposed and exposed. you threw your head back at the pulsating between the two of you, you could feel him. throbbing, and hardening inside of you, and it turned you way the fuck on. just as your pussy throbbed against his hard.

“c'mon mama.. you wanna drench your boss’s cock? huh ?.. wanna make it all gooey with your cum ?” he pushed you closer and closer with his words, as if him ramming into you wasn't enough.

“yes.. wan' make it gooey, baby !” you whispered under your breath. throwing your head back, leaving your boobs to bounce under the escaping light of his blinds.

“then cum, be a good girl..” sunghoon’s breath quickened, he was near the edge himself, if not on it.

the two of you, moaning into each other's lusty mouths, aching for more. your groans becoming quickened and hoarse as the burning knot in your stomach leaves you in discomfort. until a strong stroke came to pop that growing bubble inside you, releasing you of all your numbness. you came onto his thickness.

sunghoon, lost it at the feel of you tightening around him, lays you down onto the desk, pushing down on your stomach. he could feel himself through passing through your entrance. just thinking about it, left him blissful.

“fuck, fuck ! 's fuckin' right, squeeze me baby..” he finally broke, leaving all his pellent inside of you, slowly pumping himself a few more times before sliding out. his figure, breathing heavily, leaning onto your heaving chest.

you could hear him chuckling after awhile of comfortable silence. “looks like you're gonna be late for your meeting miss. y/n.”

“you so owe me.” you glare up at him as if this was all his fault.

“i do ?” he kissed your tummy.

“yeah, you do actually.”

“and what may that be?” he raises his brow, pushing up his thin framed glasses.

“a real date.”

“can i take you back to my place after ?” he kissed your tummy through your shirt once more.

“deal.” you grinned, catching your breath.

you were a dirty mess. a mess that sunghoon, had absolutely no problem with cleaning up.

[jo-com]

₊˚.🎧 ✩｡☕ ➛ So this is love?

Max Verstappen x Fem!Sainz reader

Summary: The man who always put racing above anything else; not even caring or investing about others because he thinks it’s a waste of time—What did you do to him to make him change his mind?

Genre: Cold!Max x Persistent!reader

Note: Grammatical errors and this is not proofread!! Enjoy thoo

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

─────── ─ ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚💕 ─ ───────

Max stared blankly at his mates as he tuned out the noises that they spoke. His eyes narrowed and brows knitted in a frown— obviously not invested in their conversation.

“Yeah, she’ll be coming here, so be nice guys” Carlos spoke,his tone laced with a warning, glaring back at other drivers who he thinks will scare you off.

And of course he was staring directly at max.

Max cocked a brow,“What?”,he was clearly not listening to them, so why the hell are they looking at him?

The other driver rolled his eyes, “i said don’t be batshit crazy and be nice to my sister”.

“Crazy?” Max scoffed, “i don't even give a damn about her, so why do i have to be nice?.”

The room then fell quiet at his words; no one even muttered a single sound as the heavy atmosphere intoxicated them—awkwardness spreading across the drivers as they stare back and forth at each other.

For a whole five minutes, none of them had the courage to speak up and end the insufferable silence.

Not until Charles let out a scrappy cough, making the others sigh in relief from his boldness.

“Carlos didn’t mean it like that, he meant that you should just be a little nice, his sister's pretty sensitive, you see” Charles exclaimed, his voice shaking from the previous tension.

Max tutted in response, mumbling a low ‘whatever’ before standing up and leaving the Ferrari garage.

…

It was finally the day of your arrival, everybody were excited to meet the you… well almost everybody.

Max just slumped in the corner, his body leaning against the wall with his usual scowling face— avoiding others that tries to converse with him.

He was minding his own business and letting his mind wander off.

What’s so special about her that people kept fussing over her.

His train of thought quickly got interrupted as people swarmed the front door, their voices echoing and colliding with one another making a god awful sound.

He rolled his eyes with judgement as he stared abruptly at the doorframe— not even bothering to check or give the slightest interest on you.

But as you walked closer to his eye range, his breath seemed to hitch and his jaw slowly hung opened.

He doesn’t know how or why, but as soon as his eyes met yours it felt like his world suddenly turned in slowmo and all the others that surrounded you, now disappeared— it was like there were only the two of you.

Max never felt something like this before, it’s a weird and uncomfortable feeling. How the hell do you make it stop?

His once cold and composed look now turned into a love sick fool expression.

“Hey man you okay?” Logan asked, his tone dripped with pure concern over his fellow driver.

Max suddenly jumped from Logan’s presence. He never even saw that he came and leaned besides him. It was so unusual for him to be that unattentive.

Max lets out an awkward cough, “yeah, i am good, just looking like everyone else.”

“Looking? Dude you look like you want to get down on your knees for her” the other joked, easing up to max.

But to him it wasn’t a joke, he was conflicted on why he looked like that and was it obvious to everyone?. What the actual fuck is happening to him.

He then raised his hand and gently lay it to his forehead to check whether or not he has a fever. Damn no fever.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Logan responded, his eyes curled into a soft concern gaze.

Max didn’t answer and flickered his eyes back to yours. His face suddenly heats up as you stare back and smile at him. Your smile that was radiant like the sun and eyes soft like sky.

After that short and subtle interaction, he can’t seem to keep his focus and just let his thoughts wander off that lead to that moment.

…

“You’re max right?” You greeted, tugging the excess hair to your side and smiling softly at him. Having him a clear view of your angelic appearance.

Max could feel his whole face being flushed, god he wishes you don’t notice, “uhm yeah” he spoke, his tone that was always high and mighty now turned into a low and shy ones.

You hummed in response and puckered your lips with a pop, “well I’ve been seeing you all day and you’re always avoiding me, is there something wrong?”

Max’s eyes widened, “no..i-uhm there’s-“ he stuttered; trying to find the right words but nothing came out right.

You examined his actions and then let out a few giggles at his antics. You didn’t understand why they call him mean, to you he was just adorable.

…

After that day, the two of you often hang out with each other and would hear whispers and murmurs about you guys, but always brushed it off and ignore people.

“Here try this max” you beamed, handing him the mango that you were holding— smiling from ear to ear as you share your favorite fruit to someone speacial. You loved mango, i mean how could you not? It’s tasty and delicious.

He gave you a look of uncertainty, he never liked mango, it’s weird looking and nothing will ever change his mind about it, even you.

But maybe one bite won’t hurt.

“Haha sure” he replied, taking the fruit from your hand and gently taking a bite out of it. He then gulped it down his throat and stared back at you— your eyes sparkled with joy and excitement, as you await for his response.

“It’s alright” he answered, giving you a thumbs up to which you retorted with a happy clap.

“Thank god you like it, I wasn’t sure whether or not you’d like one of my favorite fruits”

Hmm maybe mangoes aren’t that bad.

…

It didn’t take long before max realized how inlove he was with you and as soon as he did, he asked to court you.

Of course you agreed to it, you as well fell for him but you also wanted to get the approval of both your parents and brother.

That’s why Max took it upon himself to make your parents like him, though he knew that the real obstacle was Carlos.

“So, you’re telling me that you want to date my sister?” Carlos asked, his voice dripped with sarcasm and anger.

Max smiled nonchalantly, “yes”

“You want to date her with that attitude?” Carlos spat, his teeth gritted with each word.

“Yes” he answered again bluntly.

He was getting on Carlos nerves and you could tell.

“Haha uhm Max can you come here for a sec?” You laughed dryly, grabbing Max’s sleeves and dragging him to the side.

“What did we talk about? I told you to be nice” you scolded, rubbing the bridge of your nose to ease your stress.

“I was being nice” max grumbled, his brows knitted in a frown out of habit.

Unbeknownst to them, Carlos was in the sidelines listening, laughing silently at his fellow driver, ‘hehe he’s done for, he never admits his mistake and apologize’ he thought.

“Sorry, I’ll try okay?” Max mumbled, making you smile and kiss his cheeks in response.

Carlo’s jaw dropped, What the fuck, why was THE max verstappen apologizing, is this real??

The two of them came back hand in hand and faced Carlos once again.

“I am sorry for being rude, and yes i am dating her so please approve”.

Carlos was still in shock, never in his life had he seen Max act like a puppy and apologize to anyone.

“No uhm it’s okay we’re good” he replied, his voice shaky from disbelief.

So that’s what max is like when inlove. Damn he’s like a lost puppy.

…

Sorry for not uploading too much🥹🥹 I’ve been busy but i hope you enjoyed this!!💋

[misstycloud]

Shapeshifter x fem.reader

“Please stop.” You whimpered, shaking like a leaf.

The creature crouched down to your level and whispered in a soothing voice- it didn’t have the desired effect, though. “Why? Don’t be scared, I would never hurt you. There’s no need to be so frightened.”

“….just leave me alone..”

“No I can’t do that. I love you (Y/n). You’re everything to me. You don’t understand the depth of how much I need you.” He- it- pleaded.

You scoffed despite the inner turmoil. “Well, feelings not mutual.”

He sighed and shook his head slowly. “Why can’t you understand? I just love you so much.” He caressed your hands while staring straight into your eyes. It felt like he was unveiling your soul, like you couldn’t hide from that look, no matter what. “I,” he started, “can be whoever you want me to be. I can be whatever you wish.”

Suddenly, he started changing. It was like something was alive underneath his skin, that wanted to move and reshape the shell it was inside. Slowly, but surely, its features morphed into someone else.

This new shape was clearly tall, even when he was still couching. He looked a little rugged, wi the jet black hair and also at as equally dark grey eyes. He was muscular, too.

“Would this be better?” He asked in a deep voice, tilting his head in wonder. “Would you like someone like this- someone who can protect and care for you? Someone who wouldn’t hesitate to get into a bar fight to defend your honour.”

You looked away and shut your eyes.

“I see.” He said. “So this is not your type, then?”

Once more, you heard the familiar sound of flesh and bones. And against you better judgement, you glance his way again.

This time, he was not as muscular. In fact he was quite thin, but still tall. Messy brown hair shot in all directions, coverering his forehead, it almost shielded his face entirely from view.

“Or is this better?” He gave you a dorky smile. “A nerd? Someone who can relate to your interests and become just as engrossed in them as you. Wouldn’t that be nice? We could talk for hours about the things we like.”

You shook your head hastily. Rejecting his suggestion.

“Or maybe not.” He sighed.

The sound of flesh moving followed and you looked away, not wishing to see the peak of the gruesome transformation, before facing him again.

This new body was considerably shorter than the previous two. It was one of a mousy young man, appearing to be in the beginnings of adulthood.

“If you like being the one in control, I wouldn’t mind. I think this form would fit for that, you see. I’d be nice to be dominated by you. You wouldn’t have to hold back from anything, you could be completely in charge if that’s what you desire?”

You remained silent.

“I take that as a ‘no’, then.” He stopped for a few seconds, thinking, then the smile retuned. “Wait, I can’t believe I didn’t think this.”

Suddenly the young man disappeared and a woman took his place. She was gorgeous by all means. Her long blonde hair flowed in waves down her back. Her curvaceous form would have any person staring.

“I apologise. I should have asked if you would prefer a woman instead, my mistake. Now, finally, is this desireble?”

“I told you to stop. I don’t want any of this- I don’t want you. I don’t want to be near you. Leave me alone, please.” You cried in desperation. Hoping it would be able to push away the creature for good. But you knew it was a foolish dream for it to become bored with you.

The woman hushed you and took you into her arms. “Shhh, shhh, it will all be fine. No need to worry about anything. You’ll be good, I promise. I will take care of you.” She tried comforting you by patting your back like a mother consoling her crying child. “And don’t worry. It doesnt matter how long it’ll take, but I will find the right form eventually. You will just love it~.”

::::::::::::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::

[lalunalando]

High Altitudes - LN4

Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+! minors dni! smut, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), needy gf reader, mile high club, cockwarming

Songs: Own My Mind - Maneskin / White Glove - Dove Cameron (bold parts are lyrics used)

It’s been 5 hours into this 22 hour flight, and to say you were bored would be putting it lightly.

With the AusGP and surrounding celebrations over, you Lando and Max were flying back to England with a few of the team on the jet so he could do a factory debrief after another successful podium.

Lando was currently asleep in the seat next to you, worn out from a big week of exploring and most of all the celebrations from the evening before that ran well into the morning hours.

You on the other hand, couldn’t sleep. Lando had started something right before you had to leave thinking it would be funny, but being stuck on a plane for 22 hours now, you wanted to kill him for leaving you so needy.

Every time you tried to close your eyes, images of his hands on you plagued your mind.

The way his facial hair tickled your thighs while he buried his head in your heat.

The way he looked down at you half-lidded with pouty lips parted while you were on your knees for him.

You couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together hoping to relieve even a little pressure.

Lando woke up to you squirming around in your seat, reaching a hand over to grab your thigh and make you stop.

“Babe, are you okay? You’re being real wiggly right now.” He says through a yawn.

“Uh, yeah sorry, just um feeling a little cold i guess” you respond, looking away from him as to not show him the blush across your face that was red enough to rival Ferrari.

Tapping your thigh to get your attention back on him, he has to hold back a laugh hearing the high pitch of your voice, knowing exactly what was going on.

“Princess, you should have told me sooner, come here” he says softly, as he lifts the blanket that’s laid over him for you to join him on his seat.

You thought for a second, knowing you wanted to be close to him but also knowing you wouldn’t cope being that close to him.

Seeing the way he looked at you with sweet puppy dog eyes as he laid on his side, you realized he really did just want to help, so against your better judgements you got up and wiggled into the space beside him, getting cozy under the nice warm blanket as his arm wrapped around your waist from behind.

Feeling him pressed against you wasn’t doing anything to help the ache building between your legs, but at least it was cozy enough now that you could try and get at least a few hours sleep to distract your mind.

Or at least you thought that would be the case.

Just as you started to feel yourself drifting off, Lando starts sliding his hand from your waist down to your heat, bringing you back to full alertness.

“Lan, wh-what are you doing?” You say, trying to hold in a whimper as his fingers trailed up under the dress you’d worn, just trying to be comfortable for the flight.

“Just trying to warm you up darling, you were cold right?” You can hear the smirk in his voice as he buries his face into your neck, leaving little kisses in his wake.

“Lando we can’t, max is right across the table” you whine quietly as his fingers trail up and down the wet patch that has well and truly formed on your panties.

“Max is asleep, don’t you want to know what the good, good, bad things all feel like?” He whispers, sending another chill down your spine as he starts moving your panties to the side and circling your clit slowly.

“Can you be quiet baby? We can only keep going if you stay quiet, don’t want anyone waking up to see you like this do we?” He says as he leaves another kiss right below your ear, making you bite your lip to stay quiet as you nod in agreement

As he continues his torment with one hand, he quietly releases himself from the confines of his sweatpants with the other, giving himself a few strokes.

“How about you keep this warm for me princess, think you can do that?” He asks as he parts yours legs slightly, hooking one over his own to give himself more space, as he runs his tip through your folds a few times before poking his tip at your entrance.

All you can do is whimper and nod as he pushes in slowly, so slow it’s making you lose your mind.

After a few minutes of stillness, him just resting inside, you feel like you’re going to go crazy.

“Lan can you please move? Need to feel you already”

“Nuh uh baby, you’re just supposed to be keeping it warm for me. Thought we couldn’t do this with everyone around, what if max wakes up” he teases, using your own words against you.

“You might be the answer to the sinner in me” you quietly groan as you lean your head back against him.

It takes Lando all of his self control to not wake the entire plain up with a loud groan after hearing that, knowing he can’t keep the teasing much longer.

“Meet me in the bathroom in 5 minutes” he demands before pulling out, making you whimper at the loss of contact as he readjusts himself in his sweatpants, before getting up and heading to the small plane bathroom.

This was it. You were going to join the infamous mile high club today you guess.

After what you assume to be 5 minutes, you quietly get up and head to the bathroom, hoping no one wakes up.

You knock as lightly as you can on the door to alert Lando that you were there, and within seconds you were being pulled into the bathroom with him and pushed back against the door the moment it was locked behind you.

Lando wasted no time, biting at your neck as he pushed his bulge into you, making sure you knew how painfully hard he was for you.

“Excited to join the mile high club baby?” He smirks before finally kissing you properly, hands still wandering up your thighs to your ass, tapping lightly on your ass to tell you to jump and wrap your legs around him.

You use this moment to mess with him a little, as payback for his earlier teasing.

“Who said i haven’t done this before?” You ask as you pull back and tilt your head at him, a smirk on your lips

“Well then angel, gonna make you swallow all that pride, take you up to higher heights” he growls before putting you back down on the ground, turning you around and pushing you to bend over the sink.

You don’t have a moment to think as he pushes your skirt up over your ass and smacks it hard, making such a noise you’re sure anyone awake outside would have heard it.

Before you can scold him, he’s pushing his sweatpants down to free himself again and pushing your panties to the side, lining himself up with your entrance before pushing himself in roughly, giving you no time to adjust.

You bite your lip to contain your moan, biting so hard it draws blood.

“You know I’ve just gotta have it baby, can’t help myself being rough when you take me so fucking well” he growls in your ear, snapping his hips into yours so rough your sure the sink in front of you is going to bruise your own hips that are hitting it in the process

You’re a whimpering mess in front of him as he pulls your hair and makes you watch yourself taking him in the reflection of the mirror.

“Look how much of a slut you are, taking every inch of me in a plane bathroom while our friends are outside all because you were too needy and desperate to wait until we got home”

”I couldn’t help it lan, need you so bad all the time” you’re a panting mess at this point, fueled by the feeling of your own arousal sliding down your legs as he continues his relentless punishment on you.

“God you’re such a good girl for me always, you own my mind” he says as he locks eyes with your own in the mirrors reflection

It doesn’t take long before his thrusts get sloppy, signaling he’s not far off finishing.

“Please Lan, need to cum, need to be full of you” you pant out, your own high teetering on the edge.

He slides the hand, that’s currently gripping your hip with such force your sure there will be bruises of his entire fingerprint on it, around to your clit and rubs tight circles with the rough pads of his pointer and middle finger, completely making you come undone.

Feeling you tighten around him, he’s quick to release your hair and cover your mouth to muffle the moans spilling out of your mouth as he bites on your shoulder to muffle his own, spilling himself into you as you pulse around his cock.

After a few minutes of regaining your breath, he’s slipping out of you and making you whine as his cum seeps out after him. Suddenly he’s shocking you and your over sensitive parts once again as he pushed his cum back into you with two fingers and then places your panties back into place, patting your pussy as if to say “good job”, before sliding your dress back down over you.

You give yourselves a few minutes to regain composure, Lando helping you fix your hair he’s knotted up with his fist but unable to help you stop looking so blissfully fucked out and flushed, before you get ready to slip out hopefully without anyone noticing you’ve both been missing for so long.

As you open the door while looking at Lando and giggling, you turn around to the cocky face of Max Fewtrell, arms crossed in amusement.

“Took you both long enough, I’ve had to piss for 20 minutes now” he says with a smirk, holding back laughter as he watched you turn paler than a ghost in horror that you we’re caught.

“I won’t tell anyone, if you both move the fuck out of the way before i piss myself” he suddenly gets serious, pushing you both out of the way and locking the door behind him.

Lando just laughs as he leads you back to your seats, pulling you down to squish back into his one and cover you both with the blanket again before cuddling up to you.

“Think you can get some sleep now pretty girl?” He asks as he places a kiss to your temple

“yeah i think I’m warm enough now” you respond with a smile, making him let out a chuckle into your hair

Max returns and sits across from you both, making a face of disgust before breaking character and laughing, making you and Lando laugh with him.

“Well, welcome to the mile high club lovebirds”

[luveline]

can we possibly get the one where Gideon doesn’t like bombshell reader and poor Spencer is watching like☹️

Spencer feels a little like a child of divorce. Like, he absolutely is a child of divorce, but he didn’t think he’d feel this way at work. Lately, all Hotch and Gideon do is argue. 

It’s especially odd in that Hotch doesn’t usually go against Gideon’s judgement, even when he doesn’t agree, but you seem to be something Hotch is willing to fight for, and Spencer has no idea why.

“We don’t need her,” Gideon says. Spencer knows it isn’t Gideon being cruel, just stern. “We have a fine team without her.” 

“But with her, we’re better. And we have an opening. I know you like Greenaway for it, and I do too–”

“Everyone likes Greenaway for the position, she’s more palatable than L/N, and she works harder.”

Spencer tries not to whip his face back and forth like he’s following a ping pong ball, but it’s hard to keep up. He has no idea what his mentor’s talking about in all honesty, you’d seemed more than palatable when you met him last week. You were nice. And barely anybody is nice to Spencer. 

You sounded like you actually wanted to hear him talk, something Gideon has often been alone in. And palatable is a subjective word. 

“That’s not necessarily true,” Hotch says, knowing he’s losing. 

“We’re not gonna rush into picking someone,” Gideon says, less stern, more neutral. 

“No. I have invited her to the Georgia consultation this afternoon.” 

Gideon sighs through his nose. The afternoon rolls around quickly. Spencer doesn’t want to think about it but he’s excited to see you, and he feels conflicted in that; Gideon is the first person in a long time who actually seems to care about him, so Spencer is guilty of always aiming to please, but he can’t understand why Gideon dislikes you so much. Am I being easily led? he wonders. 

He’ll admit to finding you attractive. In his head, that is. You’d spoken so particularly, you’d looked stunning, and you didn’t make a fuss when he wouldn’t shake your hand. You called him beautiful. 

It’s the nicest, kindest attention he’s had since he started. Morgan calls him pretty boy. Spencer knows it’s not the same thing. 

They gather in the conference room, Morgan, Hotch, Gideon and Spencer, just a few minutes before 2PM. A minute later, you’re knocking on the door. 

“Hello…” You smile when you realise they’re here. “Am I late?” 

“No, L/N. Come and take a seat,” Hotch says. 

There’s a plastering of documents on the table and an empty seat by both Morgan and Spencer. You choose the one beside Spencer despite a stack of manilla folders, tucking your chair in neatly. “Oh, the grizzly stuff. This will upset my feminine energy.” 

Morgan laughs. Gideon glares at the table. 

Spencer likes it when you’re around. One more person and suddenly the consultation is a conversation and not a debate. You can keep up with everyone. You laugh at Spencer occasionally and he doesn’t know why, but he can tell it isn’t cruel laughter; he’s had a long time to work out the difference. 

Gideon excuses himself for a coffee half an hour in. 

Hotch immediately leans across the table. “I’m trying to help you,” he says. 

You grimace. “What am I doing wrong now?” 

“The laughing.” 

“You laugh.” 

“I know.” Hotch smiles at you. “You’re getting good at this, you have good insight on the dark triad. You read the book I sent?” 

“How’s Haley?” you ask.

He shakes his head, but his smile stays. “Don’t joke about that.” 

You’re not flirting. Or, Spencer doesn’t think so. It’s more likely you’re joking as Hotch says, everything about your body language pointing to amicable friendliness besides your flirting tones. “I read the book,” you say. Your gaze turns to Spencer. “Bet you’ve read it too, huh? Morgan said you’ve read every book ever written.” 

“That’s an exaggeration,” Spencer says. 

“But close?” you ask. “I’d love some recommendations. You know. For profiling.” 

“Don’t let her fool you, Reid, she’s well read,” Morgan says. 

“Wait, Gideon doesn’t like you because you laugh?” Spencer asks. 

It’s a socially inept thing to say, he realises after. You lean back in your chair all sweet and soft with your legs crossed, your dark stockings thin at the knees. He’s so, so worried you’re going to be offended and that’s exactly what he needs, a possible friend isolated again by his inability to read the room, but you don’t chew him out. You nudge his leg gently with the toe of your heel. 

“Now who said he doesn’t like me, handsome?” you ask teasingly. 

Spencer regrets the heat that floods his face and neck. 

“It’s complicated,” you add, your smile more than friendly, Spencer can’t work it out. “But don’t worry, I’ll turn him around eventually. It’s one of my many talents.” 

Oh, he thinks. That’s what it is. Spencer’s finally in on the joke. 

[finniestoncrane]

Pleaseeeee can I have a softer Cooper who worries a lot about his girlfriend having to deal with people looking at them weird all the time, but who would be happy to yell "THIS IS MY MAN!" to anyone who would listen?

Willingly

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 1.5k i am already on the soft cooper train oh no lmaooooo just a little bit of soft boyfriend cooper, or as soft as i imagine he can get, being defended by his partner 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: guns, blood, violence, good old fashioned trope fic!

Cooper struggled against your gentle grip, his gloved hand pulling away from yours, fingers no longer entwined with yours. You looked to him, noticing he was avoiding your inquisitive gaze, and then noticed the crudely painted sign on the wall ahead of you. The gates to the nearest settlement were just ahead of you. Your last stop before you headed on to the next job.

“What? Are you embarrassed to walk in here holding my hand, Coop?”

His easy, charming smile seemed a little off as he spoke to you, still looking straight ahead.

“You kiddin’? Darlin’, this is for your benefit. Not many settlements are alright with folks like me at the best of times, but with you on my arm? We’d both be in danger, and I can’t keep spendin’ all my time savin’ you.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“I can hold my own. You know that.”

There was no response, but you knew better than to keep fighting your corner in this particular arena. So instead, you sighed, placing your hands which now felt so incredibly cold and empty, back into your pockets to keep them from mindedly grabbing Cooper’s hands again. You couldn’t be too annoyed. For someone as stoic and cold as he could be, the fact he tolerated holding your hand at all was a pleasant enough gesture. But his willingness to offer up any form of physical affection dwindled completed when there was a risk of running into people. He became reserved, quiet, well-behaved almost. It was something you hadn’t expected from him, to be shy or to allow someone else’s opinions to hold him back. And admittedly, a lot of the time, you had worried that it was because he didn’t want to be seen with you. But you knew it was the other way around in his mind. He was afraid of how people would look at you.

As though he could hear your thoughts, knowing you well enough after all this time together, Cooper spoke finally as you sidled up to the gates.

“You wake up to this face smiling. You call me handsome. You say I’m charming. Good lookin’ I might be in your books, but there ain’t a lot of charm left in these old bones, sweetheart. I couldn’t talk my way out of an argument, and since you keep remindin’ me that I’m not allowed to cause problems everywhere we go…”

He tapped his thumb against the barrel of his holstered gun.

“… Then I just better not give anyone any more reason not to like me.”

“Well, I like you, Coop.”

“And I will forever question your judgement on that, kid.”

Smiling, you both passed through the open gate of the settlement and separated with a nod to get the supplies you needed. Quicker, and safer, to go separately. But still, you kept your head down, Cooper with his ragged mask up and his hat brim tipped to cover as much of his face as possible. Quiet, subtle, nondescript.

It didn’t stop them though, three of them. Pointing towards you, setting their beer bottles down on the stained and rusting bar top as they rushed to follow you.

“Hey! Hello there, pretty lady! You all alone?”

Turning, you spotted the colour of the uniform first, immediately recognising that you had made a mistake in even acknowledging them. That telltale burnt orange jumpsuit. The arrogance in their smug smiles. The Brother of Steel.

“No. I’m not alone.”

“Sure looks like you are… you know, maybe you could come on over and we’ll by you a cola?”

They laughed amongst themselves as you walked on. That one answer and a quick disappearing act was all you were willing to give them, turning quickly back and trying to lose them in the crowd as they slapped each other’s backs and spat to the ground.

And you thought you had been successful. You found a trader with everything you needed on your list before you returned to wait just beyond the gate for Cooper, no further interruptions to your day from the louts at the bar. But the entire interaction had out you on edge, so much so that when Cooper appeared behind you, leaning in without you noticing to whisper in your ear, you jumped out of your skin. Luckily, he was quick, and managed to grab your wrist before your fist struck the side of his face.

“Jumpy, aren’t you? Maybe you don’t think I’m so handsome after all.”

His wink made you blush, it always did, and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from grinning like a fool.

“You surprised me is all, smartass.”

Cooper smiled, tightening the grip on your wrist and pulling you closer to him. You feigned some resistance, pretending to put up a fight against his grin, his charms, his strength. But you were following his pull, your lips almost touching his before the blow was landed.

Cooper’s body was knocked completely off balance, his body falling to the ground in a cloud of dust. Turning in the direction he was hit from, you found yourself staring down the three members of the Brotherhood from the market. Holding back some of the choice words you had for them, you managed to narrow it down to one question simple enough for even them to answer.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Shocked by your ungrateful attitude, one of the men, the largest of the three, stepped forward and pushing your shoulder with his finger.

“We’re saving you from assault, lady! This monster had its hands all over you, but don’t worry, we’ll take care of it. And you’re welcome.”

You scoffed, face going red with rage as you knelt to help Cooper up.

“You’re not saving me, asshole! You’re ruining the fucking vibe, you dweebs.”

Again, a far more polite term than you had wanted to use, but that didn’t seem to make the men any less aggressive towards either Cooper or now you. The largest of the men grabbed your arm, pulling you back up and away from the hand that Cooper had held out to you.

“Oh… you’re one of those freaks! No wonder you turned down some good old-fashioned heroes like us then.”

One of the others nudged you to the side, the other pushing Cooper back down to the ground with a kick, turning around as all of them converged on you until your back was against the wall. Nowhere to go. Trapped by them as they made their disgusting comments.

“Why would you waste your time on some abomination like that, huh? You into freaky stuff? Cos I could sure show you a thing or two. What’s he got? Like two cocks or something weird like that?”

You spat out your retort, well aware of the repercussions, but not caring.

“He could be feral and I’d still let him touch me before I even thought about letting any of you near me.”

Bracing for impact, you squeezed your eyelids shut, opening them again moments later when you realised you hadn’t been hit yet. Instead, all three of the Knights were on the ground, Cooper kneeling over them as he tightened the lasso and added the long length around their wrists for measure.

“Oughta keep ‘em long enough for us to make our escape, hm?”

You nodded, smiling, surprised still at how effective he was at handling anything the Wasteland threw at him.

“And I did it all without too much violence and noise, like you asked.”

“My hero.”

You swooned playfully, watching him as he made his way to stand beside you, both of you looking down without an ounce of pity at the men who writhed before you in the dirt.

“And look at you, shouting all those kind words about me for anyone to hear.”

“I keep telling you, Coop. I can hold my own, and I don’t care what people think.”

“You sure about that, darlin’? The likes of these fellas don’t put you off none?”

His eyes darted towards the Knights, now trussed up and struggling against each other on the ground, straining their necks to move their heads out of the line of Cooper’s gun.

“What? You think I’m put off by the Brotherhood? Yeah… and the rads put me off stuffing tin after tin of delicious cram down my throat.”

Cooper grabbed your hand in his, initiating the contact for the first time, and pulled you away back onto the cracked road. He knew he’d let go before you hit the next settlement, but he felt a little bit better about the risks associated. Especially since he had to admit, you could hold your own. And you were determined to do so when it came to him. It was nice to feel like he could let the affection be reciprocated.

[mentally-gone002]

lovers in the night

summary: steve sneaks into his girlfriends room at night in secret so that they can be together.

steve harrington x henderson!f!reader. secret relationship!!!!

can be read in its own, or with this part 2 here, and part 3 here

a/n: reader is dustin’s sister so obvi. she’s gonna have like curly hair but no color is specified. also i L O V E a good henderson!reader with steve!! like idk why but it’s just a great pair since steve and dustin are already my fav duo in the show!! i love them sm😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

———————————————————————

cicadas buzzed endlessly beyond the open window and cotton curtains swished back and forth like a chest heaving with slow breaths along with the late night wind. 

goosebumps rose on her bare arms as she sat with her back against her bed frame on the carpeted floor, slowly flicking through a book that dustin had forced into her hands earlier that day. it was actually really good, not that she didn’t trust her brother’s judgement on literature or anything, but some books he has lent her had been not worth the read. she should’ve read this earlier.

“hey,” a sharp whisper broke her focus on the words across the page and her eyes flew to the door. it was still closed. her eyes went back to the page, only to be interrupted by quiet tapping on glass. 

she turned her head and grinned widely at the barely visible sight of steve behind the glass. “what’re you doing here?” she hissed, still sporting a smile while she got up to place her book on her nightstand and then stand on her mattress and slide the window open wider. steve didn’t answer as he hoisted himself through the window which was far above the ground. he grunted and then fell through the window to land on his back on her bed, making her step back on the mattress with her hands covering her mouth to suppress a laugh. 

he sat up, huffing a little and pushing back his chestnut hair from his forehead as he watched her sit down beside him. “i missed you.” he answered and his hand snaked to hold the back of her neck, pulling her forward into a soft kiss. 

she laughed softly into it. “you saw me a few hours ago.” she whispered, trying to hint that they needed to be quiet. 

its been months they’ve been together and nobody knew that they were dating… yet. she was worried about how dustin would react, along with everyone else in his party; partially because they didn’t like steve until a few months ago. steve agreed with her, with some shock due to the fact that her brother and his friends only just started to like him, but wished he didn’t have to wait until they were alone to be as close as he wanted with her. 

steve shook his head slightly, honeyed eyes holding hers in an intimate stare. “i know, but we weren’t alone.” his fingers gently tangled in the hair on the back of her neck. “sorry dustin booted you to the backseat by the way.”

she chuckled at the remembrance. “it’s okay, he rides shotgun in my moms car too.” her voice was filled with fondness. “what isn’t okay is dustin almost catching us!” she whispered through a toothy grin because she can’t help but feel all giddy at the rush of secrecy with him. 

“well, what can i say? you looked really pretty.” steve whispers, leaning close to capture her lips with his again. he felt his heart race under his ribs the longer he kissed her.

she pulled away. “you can say ‘i’m sorry i almost jeopardized our secret relationship. it won’t happen again.’ or something like that.” her smile showed how she was teasing him while she spoke. 

steve shook his head, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “it won’t happen again.” he repeated back with a cheeky smile, playing along with her. 

she smiled back and brushed her curls back from her eyes. “good.” 

steve lolled his head to the side so he could just keep looking at her. he liked how her hair looked right now; it was all wild because she took it out of its previous style from earlier and didn’t seem to have tamed it. “how are you?” he wondered. 

she looked away from his eyes with an accompanied smile. her eyes landed on dustin’s book on the edge of her nightstand. “good. just enjoying the night, y’know?” she shrugged a little with a small grin. “dustin lent me a book earlier.” her eyes found steve’s again.

steve nodded and laid down on his back, stretching his arms above his head so that his hands bumped the wall. she stared at where his shirt had ridden up, the soft skin of his stomach was on display. “what’s it about?” he asked, looking over at where she was still sitting up. 

her body slowly settled beside steve’s before she answered. her head was resting on his chest. “it’s about a bunch of fantasy people going on an adventure.”

“is it the hobbit?” steve lifted his head a little to gaze down at her face turned on its side.

she looked up at him when he named the book just based from her description of it. “yeah, have you-“ a knock on her bedroom door had them both jumping in surprise to sit up.

“hey,” it was dustin. “can i come in?” he asked, voice slightly muffled by the door. 

steve looked at her and she put her index finger over her lips before pointing to her bed, intending for him to get under it. he did as she silently told him to do before she left walked to the door and opened it. “what’re you doing up this late?” she rubbed her hand to her eye, giving dustin the impression that he woke her up. he didn’t seem guilty as he walked passed her and into her bedroom, going to her closet and opening the doors. 

steve swallowed thickly, glad he didn’t hide there. it would’ve been cliche and embarrassing.

“i’m looking for batteries. my walkie died.” dustin explained, walking to look at the things littering the top of his sisters dresser after not finding any batteries. “jesus, why do you have so much jewelry?” he asked, lifting up a glass dish housing her rings. 

“i don’t have batteries, dustin.” she sighed and let her eyes slip to steve’s hiding place while dustin’s back was still to her. “why don’t you have spares anyway?” 

dustin faced her with a seemingly exhausted sigh. “i did, until i used them all. there’s been a lot going on, in case you forgot about the upside down.” he sassed with a tone. 

she rolled her eyes at him and gave her own exhausted sigh. “i didn’t, and like i said before, i don’t have batteries.” her eyes once again flashed down to the gap under her bed when she thought she heard steve shift or move around. 

dustin looked with her in confusion. “are you hiding a demo-dog?” he joked lightly. “why do you keep looking down there?” he stepped closer to her bed and she stiffened. 

“something probably just fell from how it was weirdly placed. you know… gravity.” nervous laughter ended her sentence. dustin cast her a look saying ‘you’re lying’ all over his face. he got down onto the floor on his hands and knees so that he could look under her bed. “dustin! get out of my room!” she hissed, kneeling on the floor beside him and tried, and failed, to moved him. 

he was too far into his investigation to be told what to do. he moved a box or two aside and then paused, redrawing his hand. “steve? what the hell are you doing under my sisters bed?” he asked, almost too loud. steve smiled with his teeth awkwardly and crawled out from under the bed to sit beside his (secret) girlfriend. dustin’s eyes traveled to his sister. “did you know he’s here?” 

she nodded. “yeah, he’s been here for a while.” her hand lifted to settle on steve’s shoulder. that was her way of silently telling him that it’s gonna play out fine. “why are you such a snoop?” that question was directed at dustin of course, who scoffed and stood up. 

“i’m not. i was checking for monsters so i don’t wake up tomorrow and find you dead.” he widened his eyes and shrugged, as if his reason was obvious from the start. he walked to the door after receiving nothing but an eye roll and her forceful ushering out oh her bedroom. “oh, and don’t like… do stuff.” he made a disgusted face at the thought. 

steve laughed with his hands over his face. he was still sitting on the floor. “we aren’t together, henderson.” steve covered. 

he nodded with half lidded eyes. “sure. and why would you be hiding under her bed then?” 

steve shrugged. “didn’t want the interaction with the other henderson. one’s enough.” 

she slapped the side of his head after she’d walked back to stand beside where he sat. her lips were pinned into a smile. “asshole.” 

dustin rolled his eyes and walked out of the room. “just be quiet.” and then he shut the door. 

steve stood up after the door shut and pulled her into him in a hug, still laughing slightly. “my hearts beating so fast.” he panted. “he knows.” 

“oh, he most definitely knows.” she nodded, pulling away. “might as well come out and tell them, but he’ll beat us to it with his radio system.” a shrug came from her shoulders. 

steve pursed his lips with a hum and a nod. “how much you wanna bet the group has bet on us?” he wondered. 

she blew out a breath in exasperation at the thought. “i can already see them all exchanging money with stupid smiles.” her gentle laughter filled the room. 

————————————————————————

dustin didn’t knock before he opened his sisters bedroom door the following morning, and he wasn’t surprised to see that steve was still there. 

steve was flush against her as they both slept on well through the morning, his arms were wound tightly around her waist to keep her from moving away. 

dustin only shook his head with a sigh and maybe the smallest smile before leaving the two alone. he wasn’t going to tell the party about it, not until his sister was ready to because he respects her. but the party does already think that steve and her are together, so it won’t come as a shock. 

he’ll let him sleep a bit longer before he interrupts the peace. 

[rogueddie]

Eddie couldn't take his eyes off of the ugliest, evil looking polo top that he's ever had the misfortune to lay his eyes upon. It's everything he hates in one piece of clothing, so horrible that he'd gagged at it when he'd first seen it.

His friends had laughed, agreeing that the top is an abomination and crime against humanity.

But Eddie couldn't stop looking at it.

It's the exact type of thing that Steve would wear. It's the type of thing he would love and brag about.

Even though the party, with the help of Robin, have been trying to 'fix' Steve and his taste. They're currently targetting his wardrobe and they're almost wearing him down enough to get him to stop wearing so many polos.

It's making Eddie feel... conflicted.

He agrees that Steves taste is horrible. He listens to bad pop music most of the time, he has no sense of fashion and loves romance so much that he thinks awful rom-coms are the height of cinema.

But it's Steve. Those things are what make him so... Steve.

He sneaks back to the top when his friends aren't looking, crouching behind racks to get to the till and quickly buy it. He buries it in the bottom of his bag, ignoring the bored and judgemental look the staff are giving him.

"There you are," Gareth squints at him when he rejoins them. "Where did you go?"

"Fainted," he sneers, throwing an arm around Jeffs shoulders. "All these neons and pop are making me dizzy."

They laugh, quickly moving on.

After dropping them off, he goes straight to Steves house. He doesn't want the ugly shirt on his person longer than necessary and the last thing he needs is someone finding it in his closet.

He nearly cheers when he pulls up to Steves house and his parents car isn't parked out front.

They'd only caught him in their house once, when they'd come home early, and he's sure he only escaped with his life because the entire party was there too.

"Eddie?" Steve frowns when he opens the door. "What are you doing here? Are you ok?"

"Yeah, fine, just..." he huffs, rubbing his eyes. He digs through the bag, grabbing the offending shirt, and throwing it at Steve. "Got you that. I thought- whatever. There. Good night."

"Woah, woah," Steve quickly catches his arm. "It's ok, man. If the others ask then I'll say I got it. It's... this is really nice, Eds."

"It's ugly."

"Sure," Steve snorts, looking back to the shirt. "But it's definitely my style. This really means a lot to me. I think it looks cool."

"Uh, yeah, I guessed," Eddie shifts, squirming with how genuine Steve is being. "It's just a polo."

"No, it's not. It's special to me."

"Right, because you think that pattern is 'so-"

"You saw it and thought of me. Like, you hate it, but you knew I'd like it and... it just means a lot to me, that you're thinking of me."

"Alright, it's just a shirt, calm down."

"No, I don't think I will," Steve gently tugs him inside so he can shut the door. "I get it if this is difficult for you but I'm getting impatient."

"If- what?"

"Do you need me to make the first move? Or- is this a move? Is your love language gift giving or something?"

"You've lost me."

Steve huffs, putting his hands on his hips and giving Eddie a look that he can only describe as 'disappointed parent'.

"We've been flirting for months and you haven't done anything about it." Steve falters quickly when he sees the shock on Eddies face. "Or... am I missing something? Is it the whole, like... keeping it secret thing? Because I don't mind! It's not safe to be out in Hawkins, I know, and I'm not expecting a big date at-"

"You knew that I was flirting with you," Eddie interrupts. "This whole time?"

"Well, yeah, I was also flirting with you."

Eddie stares at him for a moment. "And you've been waiting for me to make a move on you?"

"Exactly. Was I not being obvious enough? I didn't want to out you or anything..."

"No... in retrospect you were being very clear. All of Robins cryptic advice makes so much sense now. Oh, God, even Wayne figured it out."

[annwrites]

i’m fuckin’ begging you

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: the morning after you & billy have your first intimate moment together, it's like he's reverted back to who he was in hawkins. you go to a drive-in theater that night in tx with him & have a mental breakdown in a restroom over his treatment of you. he then shows you his love in shades of black & blue, & when you go to finally leave for good, he tells you just who it is, exactly, that you belong to.

— tags: billy going back to being a MASSIVE asshole bc he's terrified of commitment & vulnerability. billy gets into his first fist-fight over you. billy staking a claim. ANGST.

— tw: drugs, violence

— word count: 7.4k

— a/n: yeah, he's toxic, but we're all about that on this blog, so.

The smell of salt air wafts into the Camaro's cabin, and the sound of crashing waves and the call of seagulls envelope the two of you. You'd finally made it. Billy was home and you'd stayed with him every mile of the way. You were his. Completely.

He sits in the front seat of his Camaro, you atop him in his lap, legs spread, him buried inside of your warm wetness. He grips your bare hips under your sundress, gently rocking your hips against him.

He reaches up, cupping your cheek, your soft hair tumbling over your slender shoulders as you smile warmly down at him, eyes full of adoration, kindness, care. When had someone last looked at him in such a way? No judgement, no hatred, no harsh words or actions against him.

"Billy." You call softly to him.

He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. "Say it, baby, please. I need to hear it."

You reach up, resting your left hand atop his shoulder, fingers burying themselves in his hair, a silver ring glinting against the bright California sun high in the sky, a breeze washing over both of you through the open windows.

"Billy," you say again, sweetly.

His other hand that's not cupping your face gently squeezes your hip. "Please, angel, no one has said it to me since my mom left. Please... I feel it, too."

"Billy."

As you continue rocking your hips against his, his brows furrow. Something isn't right. Doesn't feel right.

"Billy."

His eyes slowly open, sunlight streaming in from a window to his right and you're hovering overtop of him, brows furrowed. "Hey, you need to get up. We have to be checked out soon."

He sits up suddenly, pushing you away from him, nearly causing you to fall off of the bed. "Get the fuck off of me," he says, standing.

You roll your eyes. Clearly not a morning person you now knew.

"Good morning to you, too," you say sarcastically.

He turns back to you. "What time is it?"

"Twenty till."

"Why the fuck did you let me sleep so long?"

You withdraw a little at his harsh, aggressive tone. "You were tired and I just wanted to let you rest."

He walks over to his bag.

"Don't worry, I got all our stuff together."

He turns back to you with a sneer. "You went through my shit?"

Your hands begin to shake. Where was the Billy from last night? You were so sure things would be far different today. Going forward in general. Easier, sweeter, kinder.

You stand. "No, I just put your things away. I didn't go through it. I was trying to be nice."

He unzips it, pulling out an outfit, dressing himself, not looking at you. "Get your shit and get down to the car."

You walk over to your bags, shrugging them on. You don't speak to him again as you open the door. Before you can step over the threshold, he calls to you.

You look back to him, hopeful for an apology.

Instead, he says, "Don't ever touch my things again. Got it?"

You nod, then exit the room.

You sit silently in the passenger seat as Billy crosses the Texas border—his tire had been ready to go before the two of you even pulled up to the auto shop. And once the car was ready, he'd immediately hit the road, not even bothering to stop somewhere for breakfast.

You glance to him out of the corner of your eye and wonder if maybe his attitude was from a hangover instead. He hadn't seemed drunk. And while you had a slight headache, you felt fine yourself. If you weren't hungover, then surely he wouldn't be either. Would he?

"Are you okay?" You ask quietly.

He glances to you, then looks back to the road. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're...you seem upset."

He rolls his eyes. "Just tired of being stuck in this fuckin' car all the time and having to do all the driving and every ounce of the work around here."

You wince. "I would if I knew how..." You say softly.

"Yeah, well, you don't. And I'm not about to start teaching you so you can burn up the fucking clutch, causing just one more problem to be added onto my plate."

You look out the windshield, tears burning your eyes. "Do...do you regret last night?"

He grows quiet for a moment, jaw flexing. Hard. Then, "Like I told you before, shit like that doesn't mean anything to me. We both got off. Doesn't need to be more than that."

Your lip quivers and you look out the passenger side window at the other passing cars, your stomach tying itself in knots now. How could you have ever trusted him in allowing him to touch you like that? He'd told you what sex—any kind—meant to him. He was consistent in that at least .

He then reaches over, retrieving a cassette from the glovebox and pops it in the radio, Metallica's For Whom the Bell Tolls blaring through the speakers.

When Billy stops to get gas, you watch from the rearview mirror as he eyes up other girls walking around in Daisy Dukes, mini skirts, and the like. Even whistling his approval at a couple. A tear slips down your cheek and you wipe it away.

Once the car has finished filling, he goes inside and you hang your head, crying softly for just a moment. How could you have ever done that? He'd told you his intentions in getting you drunk—he'd done it to take advantage and he had.

You hadn't felt that way while it was happening, though.

What you had felt had been…something more. You couldn’t acknowledge what. Not now. Not ever.

You’d finally given him exactly what he’d wanted since day one—another notch in his belt, just for you. Well, perhaps not exactly, but something. You felt dirty.

Used.

Cheap. 

Pathetic.

Had the things he’d told you while drinking even been true? About his mom? About how he felt about you? You begin to doubt every single thing he’s said and done since you first met. Or, at the very least, since you got into his car that night.

When you glance in the side mirror, you see him heading back and you quickly gather yourself as best you can manage, not looking his way as he enters the car.

He tosses a plastic bag full of junk food between the two of you, but you somehow know you’re not to touch it. 

“I’m hungry, too,” you say softly.

He takes a bite of a Snickers, then glances up to you. “Your legs aren’t broken and you have cash. Go get somethin’.”

You exit the car then, carefully closing the door behind you.

“Hey!”

You turn back to him, leaning down to the window. 

He leans across the way toward you. “From now on, you start paying for all your own shit. I’m done being your meal ticket. Got it?”

You nod, staying silent. You stand, turning away, then hear him yell “hurry up” as you head inside.

Feeling…not like yourself, you stare blankly at the selection of chips in front of you. Your stomach growls, but you feel like whatever you eat will just come right back up. 

You then walk up front to the attendant behind the counter. “Excuse me?”

The older man turns to you, pausing from putting away cigarette cartons. 

“Do you have a public restroom I could use?” 

He nods toward the back left. 

“Thank you,” you say, walking away.

Once inside, you lock the door behind you, pressing your forehead to it, your sweaty palm slipping off of the metal handle as you begin to cry. Hard.

Your head spins with so many thoughts you’re unable to grab a single one to focus on before the next one hits you. 

You wonder if, perhaps, you should’ve stayed in Hawkins—who cared what happened to you in the long run, anyway? You think of your mother, wondering if she ever cared for you, if she ever thinks of you as often as you do her. You think of Steve and how, while he’d only seen you as a friend and you felt the same toward him, it was someone like him that you needed—someone kind and considerate and non-violent.

You think of Billy and how you had been right to see him as a monster. Had been right to stay away from him in the first place. 

God, what had you done to yourself agreeing to get in his car that night? How much better off would you be right now if you’d kept walking instead? You’d had another opportunity on the interstate, but had caved yet again, returning to him. 

You’re not sure you can hold out until California. Parting ways before then…it may be for the best sooner rather than later. For your own safety, if nothing else.

Surviving your father had taken everything in you. But now you had nothing—truly. A few hundred waning dollars, a watch to pawn, and some clothes. That was it.

You suddenly feel terrified for your future. 

You take a moment to gather yourself, realizing you’re now hyper-ventilating and you turn the sink on and splash handful after handful of cold water onto your flushed face, washing the tears away.

When you return to the car, Billy immediately makes a snide comment. “Took long enough. I thought you were getting somethin’ to eat?”

You stare out the window at a happy couple across the way, knowing you’ll never have that. You’re too broken for it. 

“They didn’t have anything I wanted.”

“Whatever,” he says, turning the car over. 

As he begins to drive away, you finally tear your eyes away from the man and woman and suddenly realize: there’s not a single person in all the world who loves or cares about you.

You want to throw yourself from the moving car at the thought.

A couple hours later and you’re beginning to feel sick from the heat, but remain quiet. You should’ve at least gotten a bottle of water or two back at the station, but you’d had other things on your mind. 

Billy glances to you, your sullen state, and rolls his eyes. “You’re really starting to harsh my fuckin’ buzz. The hell is the matter with you today? I know it’s not your monthly or I would’ve found out as much last night with my hand between your legs.”

You feel sick at the memory. “I just don’t feel well.”

“Maybe it’s because you didn’t bother to grab anything while I waited for your ass back at the Exxon.”

You stay quiet, tears burning your eyes. 

He tosses a bag of Doritos at you. “Here, eat those. Even if they are fuckin’ mine.”

He only notices how badly your hands are shaking when you try opening the bag. 

He frowns, turning back to the road as you begin to eat one.

"Thanks," you say softly.

An hour later, Billy finally stops and you’re now seated so far away from him, you’re damn-near climbing out the window. 

He slams his door behind him, leaving you sitting there as he walks up to a taco stand, ordering lunch for himself.

You nearly stumble out of the car, dizzy from your low blood-sugar, but trail along behind him and then order a couple tacos for yourself. 

You go to follow him to a table, until he walks over to a blonde girl who’s wearing a pair of colorful shorts and a tye-dye t-shirt, asking if the seat across from her is free.

You sit some ways away, taking occasional bites of your food, sipping at your water, trying to keep everything down. You grip the edge of the table, taking deep breaths.

You’re fine. You’ll be fine.

You have no other choice now but to be. 

Unless…what if you bought a bus ticket? If you went back…what would happen to you? Would…would your dad follow through on his threat? 

Tears sting your eyes when you wonder what your gravestone would say. Certainly not ‘beloved daughter’.

You push your food away, lying your head down, fighting against your gag reflex.

Billy sits across the way, flirting with the girl in front of him. 

“So, do you live around here?” She asks, taking a bite of her food. 

“Nah, doll, I’m just passin’ through.”

He glances to you for just a moment and his brows furrow when he sees you hunched over, face buried in your arms, taking shallow breaths.

She turns, following his line-of-sight, then looks back to him. “Are you with her?”

He smirks, looking to Candy—Candace—he forgets what the fuck she’d told him her name was now. “Not like that. I’ll be rid of her ass once we hit California.” 

He ignores his stomach twisting painfully when he says it.

“Oh, wow. Long ways to go, huh?”

He shrugs, leaning in toward her. “No reason we can’t get to know one another now.”

She laughs, shaking her head and standing, tossing her paper plate in the trash. “Sorry, but I’m not like that. Good luck getting to Cali, though!”

He sighs as she walks away, his eyes trained on her back-end, even if it doesn’t serve to stir any excitement within him.

He comes over to you then, seating himself heavily on the other side of the metal picnic table. “What? Are you sick?”

You don’t respond. 

He reaches for your food. “If you’re not eating it, then I am. No point in letting it go to waste.”

Still nothing and he wonders if you’ve fallen asleep, until you finally raise your head and he feels the blood drain from his face at the look of yours—flushed, sweaty, your eyes a bit glassy. 

You stand. “I’m going to sit in the car.” When you go to step away, you sway on your feet and then he curses.

“Sit the fuck down and eat your food. Now. I don’t need you getting sick all over my car. Because if you do, I’m not paying for the fuckin’ detailing.”

You do as he says, sitting, pulling your taco toward you, even if it doesn’t even seem all that appetizing to you. “You could always leave me here,” you state.

There’s no sarcasm in your voice. No playful tone. Nothing. 

He leans back a bit. “Don’t tempt me.”

You raise your bottle to your lips, your hands shaking and some water spills on your shirt. 

His face falls as he watches you struggle. Either you were sick from the heat…or you were back to the way you were the other night: filled with fear…of him.

He looks down to his food, his own appetite suddenly gone. He eats it anyway.

Once the two of you are back on the road—your stomachs full, even if neither of you had had an appetite—he turns his radio back on, but leaves it at a comfortable level.

Meanwhile, you think of the watch you’d taken. If the two of you stopped tonight, once you got yourself a room, you’d go in search of a pawn shop. You’d take whatever they offered you. It wasn’t like you were in a place to barter. You then also consider finding out about bus fare. Perhaps to California. 

It won’t be cheap, but even if it takes every cent, you’ll be better off. 

Billy changes lanes, passing the car beside you, then sighs dramatically. “I told you before what sex—all that shit—means to me: nothing. So, what, you’re going to pout now because I don’t want to settle down after one taste? Like it was something to write home about to begin with?”

You put your hand over your mouth. “I’m going to be sick.”

“Fuck,” he says, quickly merging back over, people laying on their horns as he skids to a stop on the shoulder and you wrench your door open and heave over the side of the car.

He then reaches a new level of guilt he never thought possible. He reaches toward you, hand hovering over your back, and then he rethinks the decision, placing it back on the wheel.

Once you’ve emptied your stomach, you reach into the glovebox and wipe your mouth with a napkin, closing your door and settling back against the seat, your skin now slick with sweat, head pounding, a vile taste in your mouth. 

You then look to him out of the corner of your eye, your body shaking. “I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

“It’s fine,” is all the reply he gives before merging back into traffic.

It’s evening when Billy pulls into a motel, and you exit the vehicle before he’s even shut the engine off, going inside to get yourself a room.

When he follows after you a moment later, he catches the tail-end of your conversation, watching as you go to hand the woman behind the front desk some cash. 

“Alright, so that’s one room with a full-size bed for fifteen.”

He grows angry at the thought of you sleeping away from him, even if he’d told you just a few hours earlier to start paying your own way. Being upset with you for doing as he’d asked... What the fuck was wrong with him?

He steps up beside you, snatching the money out of your hand, stuffing it in your back pocket. 

“I want a queen. One room,” he states, glancing from the woman, then glaring at you.

You shrink away from him, your hopes of getting away from him for just one night now ruined.

Once inside the room, you nearly collapse on top of your bags as you drop them onto the floor. You then wander over to the bathroom and softly shut the door as you sit to relieve yourself. 

You cringe when you look at yourself in the mirror after. Your skin is a pallid shade, stray hair clinging to your face and there are dark circles beneath your bloodshot eyes. But you simply don’t have it in you to care enough to bother fixing yourself up, so you exit the bathroom as-is.

Billy watches as you wander over to one of your bags and reach inside, pulling something out and stuffing it in your pocket. You then go to leave, until he speaks. 

“The fuck are you doing?”

You just shut the door behind you and he curses, throwing his jacket down as he follows you out. “Hey, get the fuck back here!”

You don’t listen.

He then grabs you roughly by the upper arm, squeezing harshly as he pulls you back to him. “I asked you a goddamn question.”

You fight back against the fear which fills you at his presence now. You know how to play this game. You’ve been doing it your whole life. When a man gets angry: be silent, demure. Respond only minimally. Enough to give them what they want. They won’t hurt you then. Probably.

You reach into your right pocket with a shaking hand and extend it toward him, palm open-faced. “I need to pawn this. My money won’t last long between here and California. Or wherever it is that I end up now.”

His grip loosens, taking the watch, looking over what used to be your dad’s Rolex.

He then looks to you and watches with a pained expression as you reach up, gingerly rubbing the portion of your arm that he’d just had squeezed within his grip.

He hands the watch back to you. “Keep it.”

You look up to him. “I can’t. When my money-”

“I paid for the room, didn’t I?”

Your eyes search his for a moment. “I don’t think I want to go to California anymore.”

His stomach drops. “What?”

You look down to the watch glinting against the sun, the silver still polished—looking like new. “I said West. And in another state or two I’ll be there. I think that’s where I get off.”

His heart begins to pound. You want to leave. You want off this emotional fucking rollercoaster he’s subjected you to every goddamn day. Just as soon as you begin to feel comfortable, he gives you another blow to contend with, leaving you on uncertain ground.

He doesn’t react. Doesn’t beg you to stay. He won’t. If you want to leave him too, then so be it. He never needed you in the first place, clearly. 

He ignores the way his heart squeezes painfully at the thought of an empty passenger seat. An empty bed.

It’s just the heat that’s making his eyes sting.

“Good riddance, then.”

Your chin wobbles as you turn around, heading back up to the room, head hanging between your shoulders, your form utterly fucking defeated.

Billy eventually, after showering—while you’d sat on the bed staring at nothing—went down to the lobby to ask about local attractions. He needed to get out of that room. He couldn’t take seeing you like that. Couldn’t bear what he was doing to you. 

But he doesn’t know what else to do. He’s not…sappy and romantic and ‘boyfriend’ material. Whatever it is that you’re after—he ain’t it.

He can’t be.

When he returns, you’re still sitting there, hand holding your hurting stomach.

He places his hands on his hips, already regretting inviting you. “You want to go see a movie? They’re having a showing of The Terminator near here in less than an hour.”

You look up to him with empty eyes. You’ve never looked at him like that before. Haven’t looked like that since the night he found you beaten and bloodied on the side of the road.

Something inside him breaks at the realization.

You shrug.

He opens the door. “C’mon then.”

Once he’s parked—you’d desperately tried to give him money for your ticket, terrified he’d use paying for yours against you at some point, but he’d refused to take the change from you—he leans back against the seat, setting his radio to the correct station.

He rolls his head to the side, looking at you and his heart drops when he sees you turned toward your door, away from him.

He wants to roll it all back—this entire fucking day. How, in less than ten hours, had he managed to do so much destructive damage to not just you, but your relationship as a whole? He’d had an opportunity before him—you—for a better life. A fresh start. Something good, and pure and loving. And he’d not stopped until your heart was crushed to a pulp in his fist.

But the way you’d looked at him last night in bed, the way you’d touched him and kissed him and held him…something had shifted between the two of you. Something big. Something he couldn’t even fathom. He knew what he felt. But what if you didn’t? Or, what if you did, but he turned out just like his dad? He then thinks he’d spent all day doing it—being that—his spitting fucking image. You didn’t need to hit someone to hurt them. To abuse them.

What the fuck did he do?

He glances to the cars around you, then spots a couple up ahead in the back seat of a Barracuda on top of one another.

He smirks. "At least someone's getting laid. Lucky bastard."

You open your door then, nearly falling out of the car. 

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“Restroom,” you reply barely above a whisper, walking away.

Once you’ve shut yourself in a stall, you sit on the toilet lid and lose it. You begin to bawl so hard you can’t breathe. You’ve not cried like this since your mom left you behind. You double over, wrapping your arms around yourself, shaking, tears and snot streaming down your face. You cry so hard you make yourself sick.

You lean over the toilet, vomiting up stomach acid, which only serves to make you cry harder. 

And you make the decision right then and there: once Billy is asleep, you’re leaving for good. He always sleeps through the night. It’ll give you plenty of time to get away. You’re unsure how late bus stations are open, but you’ll do whatever you must to leave him in the past where he belongs. 

When you exit the restroom—the cool night air washing over you, cooling you down—you take a moment to glance up to the wide sky above you, now filled with stars. And you feel so fucking lonely and empty at the sight. A sight which used to comfort you. Now...

You then slowly step over to the concessions. 

“Can I have a small vanilla shake, please?”

Once you’ve paid, you’re handed your drink, but a voice calls out to you before you can walk around some. You refuse to go back to his car until you’ve at least put something back on your stomach.

“You alright? Looks like you’ve been crying.”

You look to your right and see a man, maybe twenty or twenty-one, leaning up against the side of the concession stand. He has a pair of black cargo shorts on, a black t-shirt with a yellow smiley face on the front, and bleach-blond hair. 

Your wrap your clammy hands around the cool cup in your grip. “I’m fine,” you say quietly.

He crooks his head to the side. “You sure? Might not be able to help, but I’m a good listener.”

You shift from one foot to the other, considering, and then decide to come over to him. You want nothing more to do with Billy. He’s shown who he truly is all day long. Had months ago. What was the saying? When someone shows you who they are the first time, believe them. You should’ve taken such advice.

It would’ve saved you a lot of heartache.

You look up at him, leaning your shoulder against the building, taking a sip of your cold drink.

He extends a hand toward you. “Chris.”

You smile slightly, holding your own out. “Y/N.”

He takes your wet hand in his and presses a soft kiss to the top of it. 

You laugh lightly at the unexpected gesture.

“Don’t tell me your asshole boyfriend is responsible for your tears? A girl like you is way too pretty to be crying over some worthless chump.” He folds his arms across his chest.

“No. It’s…it’s complicated.” To you maybe, but clearly not to him.

He leans his head against the building. “It serious?”

You take another drink. “No. We want different things.”

“Like?”

On the one hand, talking to a strange man again is probably a bad idea. On the other, he ogled and spoke to how many girls today? You could do as you pleased. He had no say in your decisions. Not anymore. He never should’ve in the first place.

You shrug. “I just want someone who will be nice to me.”

“What, that’s supposed to be a tall order? Doesn’t seem all that hard to do to me,” he says, running the back of one of his fingers down your arm. 

You step the least bit closer at the tender gesture. It just feels good to be touched. To have someone listen.

He continues. “What’s he want?”

You sip your shake again. “Your guess is as good as mine,” you say quietly. 

He shifts his stance. “Do you want to be with someone like that? A guy who leaves you guessing, crying, all alone? Sounds like a selfish prick to me.”

No, you don’t want that.

You look down. You normally wouldn’t open up like this to a complete stranger, too worried what they might think, but it’s not as if this day can get any worse. “What if I can’t do any better?”

He smirks. “Talking to me, ain’t ya?”

You both laugh at that.

He then glances around. “I don’t normally do this, but I have something that might make you feel better.”

Your brows furrow as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small red candy. He looks at you again. “You ever dropped acid before?”

Your stomach drops. “N-no.”

“You want to?”

You shake your head. “No, thank you.”

He sighs. “C’mon, it’s not that bad. I mean, it’ll make you forget all about what’s-his-face. We could get out of here, have some fun as a bit of payback. What’d’ya say?”

He grabs you by the wrist then.

Billy groans in irritation. You’d been gone nearly twenty-fucking-minutes at this point, already missed the whole beginning of the movie. He glances around, looking for you, but you’re nowhere to be found. He lets you out of his sight for a fucking second and this was what he got for it…

He exits his car, going in search of the restrooms, really ready to give you what-for, even if you missing the movie is his fault. He knew you had just wanted to get away from him. And he can’t exactly get angry at you 'wasting' his money on your ticket, either, since you’d all but begged him to let you pay for yourself. 

And then he spots you, standing near the concessions, some bleach-blond asshole squeezing your face in one hand, the other holding something near your mouth while you shake your head, trying to pull away.

He sees fucking red.

As he nears the two of you, he hears him say, “C’mon, Y/N, we’re just having some fun. So open.”

You drop your milkshake on the ground, vanilla going everywhere and the prick looks at Billy then, eyes widening when he sees the aggressive look which has overtaken his features. 

Billy grabs him by the right arm, pulling him away from you before sucker-punching the side of his face.

He falls to the ground and Billy gets on top of him and just pounds away, landing blow after blow. He eventually hears something break—likely his nose, but he doesn’t stop. “Don’t ever fucking touch her again! You hear me, you fuckin’ piece of shit?” He grips his face then, Billy’s mere inches from it as he screams, “You fucking hear me?!”

His face is so swollen and bloodied, he can barely even make Billy out so as to respond, so he just punches him again. 

You’d stood to the side, horrified, hands covering your mouth as Billy wailed on Chris, beating his face into a bloody pulp, until a crowd began to form. You then rushed forward, grabbing Billy’s arm, his fist still raised in the air. “Billy, stop, you’re going to kill him!”

Then you hear someone yell in the distance, “I’m calling the police!”

You tug harder, forcing him to stand, and then he kicks Chris in the stomach as hard as he can and he doubles over, curling into the fetal position as Billy spits on him. “Fuckin’ loser.” He quickly grabs your hand, leading you back to the car. “C’mon.”

He opens your door, buckling you in, then closes it. 

When you glance up, you see a man getting out of a Plymouth as Billy walks around the front of the Camaro. Billy then points at him. “Get back in your fuckin’ car!”

He gets in the driver’s side and kicks up grass and dirt and rocks as he quickly backs out of the lot, speeding away.

You sit beside him, shaking violently, tears stinging your eyes and you gasp as he nearly hits someone as he swerves into another lane for a moment after taking the on-ramp to get on the interstate. Perhaps five minutes later does he get back off again, now on a lower, more deserted back road.

He flies across the asphalt and your heart pounds as you watch the speedometer climb to over eighty. 

“Billy, slow down. Billy!” 

Ninety. 

“Billy, please, you’re scaring me!”

It’s once he’s hit over one-hundred-and-ten that he stomps on the brakes, your seatbelt nearly choking you as the car lurches forward. Once you’ve slammed back against your seat, you stare at him, eyes wide, tears streaming down your cheeks, chest heaving. 

He’s deathly silent beside you, breathing steadily as he himself stares at the dark road ahead. His eyes are hard, brows furrowed, knuckles bloodied.

You shake your head, unbuckling yourself with trembling hands. “I-I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.”

You open your door, until he reaches across the cabin and slams it back closed again. When you look at him, he grabs your face gently, but firmly, his eyes wild. “You’re fucking mine. You understand me? You’re mine.”

Before you can even reply, he crushes his lips to yours so hard your teeth knock together. He plunges his tongue inside your mouth, his right hand coming to grip the hair at the back of your neck, his other squeezing your hip so hard it hurts.

The only thing you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears and his lips smacking against your own.

He pulls back. “Next time I see another guy touching you, I won’t stop until I have fucking killed him.”

He brings your lips back to his own.

You remained silent on the way back to the motel. Silent tears slipping down your cheeks, afraid of what you’d now gotten yourself into.

You look at him out of the corner of your eye and wonder how he can now seem so calm. He’d nearly beaten a man to death not even half-an-hour ago. Had also acted more possessive toward you than you’d ever seen him before. What was that supposed to mean, anyway—'you’re mine'?

You’re almost too afraid to ask, unsure that you want his definition. 

Once he’s parked, you both exit the car and head inside, and once the door is closed, you slump down into a chair.

He paces back and forth, hands on his hips, glancing up to you every few moments, your head in your hands, elbows atop your knees.

“Are you okay?” He asks gently, now a bit calmer.

You look up to him, your lower lip trembling. You choke out through tears, “No, I’m not okay! None of this is okay! What is wrong with you?”

He stops pacing. “I had to get the fuckin’ creep off of you-”

“So you almost kill him?”

He waves his hand. “He’ll be fine. Who even gives a shit?”

You shake your head in disbelief.

“What the fuck were you doing talking to him, anyway? You told me you were going to take a piss,  not hook up with some random-”

You stand then, temper having finally reached its boiling point. “Are you fucking kidding me? This again? You have treated me like garbage all day long! Looking at and flirting with girls and making me feel so worthless!” You begin to sob. “Do you have any idea the things I’ve been thinking? I…I never should’ve trusted you in the first place! I don’t know what I thought about you. Maybe that you could be different. Or that I could fix you or… God, I’m so fucking stupid. Just like my mother. But y’know what? I get it now. I get why she did it. She had no other choice. So, I might as well follow in her footsteps with that, too.”

You walk over to your bags, pulling your backpack onto your shoulders.

He panics. “W-what’re you doing?”

“I told you I’m done and I meant it. I’m leaving.” You grab your other bag. “I won’t waste years of my life on someone like she did. I have to get out before it’s too late.”

Just as you turn your back to him, taking a step toward the door, he breaks. What the fuck has he done? “Please don’t go. I’m in love with you.”

You halt. 

“Listen, I…I know I fucked up. Today…fuck, baby, I know. I just…last night…”

You slowly turn back to him. You’ve never heard him grasping for words before. Never seen him so unsure of himself. And what he’d just said… Love. 

He sighs, settling his hands back on his hips, looking down at the stained carpet beneath his boots. “I only realized it this morning. How I felt. I mean, I knew I felt it before. But I tried to play it off as anything but that. I didn’t want to acknowledge it—admit it. I mean, fuck, what if you didn’t feel the same? What if I got rejected?” He looks up to you. “I don’t know how to do any of this shit—being with someone, having feelings for them. Loving them, letting them love me. It’s not my style. Or wasn’t. Fuck, I don’t know. But I just…started seeing you differently the more we spent time together.

“And I guess I thought today…if I pushed you away, then the feelings might dissipate? I mean, look what happened the last time I loved—trusted—someone. She left.”

Your brow twitches. “And I don’t know that feeling?” You ask in anger.

He takes a step closer to you. “I know you do. I just-”

You cut him off. “Just stop, Billy.”

He shuts his mouth. 

You drop your bags, sitting back down again and thinking. You want to be understanding. But he's making showing kindness toward him incredibly difficult to do.

Finally, after a very long stretch of silence—him beginning to sweat, thinking you’re about to leave again—you speak. 

“I get pushing me away,” you say softly. “You said it before—that I had no friends back in Hawkins. And fear of abandonment was why. If I didn’t let anyone in, then they couldn’t walk away. But I’ve tried with you. Over and over again. And every time, you swung from one extreme to the other.”

You look at him. “You’ve given me whiplash you’ve done it so much. And today…” You trail off, a lump forming in your throat. “Do you have any idea what you put me through?” You ask in a whisper.

He pulls over a chair, sitting in front of you, taking your hands in his. “I put you through hell, I know.”

You shake your head, looking away from him. “You made me feel so…” Your chin wobbles. “I felt so alone. And for the first time I realized not a single person in the world wants or cares about me.” 

A tear slips down your cheek and then another one.

And he nearly does the same at him making you think that for even a second. He’d broken your heart.

You continue. “I thought a lot of horrible things today. Thought about throwing myself out of your car.”

His throat bobs.

“About going back home, not caring what happened to me—if he followed through on his promise. I decided at the movie that I was going to leave while you were asleep tonight, too afraid to do it while you were awake.” You look at him. “That’s what you’ve made me feel toward you: afraid.”

You look down to his bruised hand and pull your own away. 

“I don’t know how to trust you anymore. Last night I thought was…” You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter what I thought anymore. You’ll never change. I left Hawkins to get away from another man just like you. I would've been better off had I just done things on my own.”

You know you’re wasting your breath, so you stand again, grabbing your things.

Just as your hand settles over the door knob, he breaks down crying. “Please don’t leave. I’ll do fucking anything. Please, Y/N. I…I can’t lose you, too. Please, God, I’m begging you, stay.”

You go to turn the handle and then he comes over to you, falling on his knees beside you, pressing his face into your stomach, crying harder.

“I love you. Please. I’ll change, I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll be whoever you need me to be. Just don’t walk out that door, I’m fuckin’ begging you.”

You sniffle, telling yourself over and over again not to cry. That he doesn’t mean it. It’s just another manipulation tactic, but you know this time is anything but. He’d never cry in front of you—anyone—unless the tears and the words leaving his lips were true.

“How can I trust you now?” You ask through gentle sobs.

He presses his cheek against your stomach then, hands gripping your soft hips. “Just let me prove to you that I can be better. The kind of man that’s worthy of you.”

He finally stands, cupping your face in his hands. “Angel, I know I don’t deserve you. Fuck, I probably never will. And I know you deserve a hell of a lot better than me. But you’re all I want. I’ve never wanted anything as badly as I want you. I…I need you. Just, what can I do to fix this?”

You turn your head, looking at the door and his heart begins to break. 

“If you want to leave, I won’t stop you. Just…” He steps away for a moment, reaching into his bag, and he pulls out a wad of cash and doesn’t stop counting until he’s reached a grand. “Take this,” he says, shoving it into your hand.

Your eyes go wide and you look up at him. 

“If you want the gun too-”

You shake your head. “Billy, I-” You sob, covering your mouth with the back of your other hand. You throw the money down on the table. "I don't want your money. I don't want anything from you. Not anymore."

He grabs your face again. "Just...let me ask you one thing. Please."

You blink up at him through teary eyes.

"Do you love me?" He asks, brushing stray tears away with the pads of his thumbs.

Your face crumples. "I wish I knew how to stop."

He lets loose a breath of relief. "Sweetheart, we had one bad day. A really shitty one, I know. But this is what I do when there's a risk of getting close to someone—I rail against it as hard as I can. And it always works—they walk away. Most of the time I'm the one who does. But I couldn't this time. Waiting for the other foot to finally fall, though, I was constantly on the edge of my goddamn seat waiting for it to finally happen.

"I thought... I thought it's what I wanted. I don't. I know that now. I want you. Now. Maybe...maybe forever. I guess we can figure that part out together. If you'll still have me. If you could ever fuckin' forgive me for all the shit I've done—put you through. It's not always going to be perfect. I'm going to piss you off and keep getting on your last nerve for my own amusement. I'll never stop being a pain in your ass. But it's only because I-" He sighs. "Because I love you. So, please, just stay. I think... I think that we belong together. Who the hell else is going to put up with me the way you have? Who else could ever understand the shit I've been through but someone else who's been through it, too?"

You stare up at him, sniffling, tears slipping from your tired eyes, your hands shaking at your sides, body slightly trembling. Every part of you is screaming at you to finally do it: run. Every part except your heart.

You know it might be the biggest mistake you've ever made, but it wouldn't be the first time.

You bury your face in his chest then, fisting the back of his shirt in your hands and you begin to wail, letting it all out. Everything. Your mom abandoning you in the middle of the night, your dad taking every ounce of anger and frustration out on you, your loneliness, your sadness, your hopelessness, your fear, the torment Billy has subjected you to.

You cry and cry until your legs give out, both of you sinking to the floor as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close.

He rests his cheek against the top of your head. "Never again," he promises, gently rocking you.

It takes every ounce of strength you have left to believe him.

[brokenmenswhore]

Hi! Are you planning on writing a part 2 to Lessons? It was too good 🥵

lessons | aegon ii targaryen

part 2

pairing: aegon targaryen x fem!reader

summary: in search on the streets of silk for your husband, you find his brother in a compromising position

warnings: this is almost pure smut (MDNI 18+)

a/n: just wanted to say i’ve been treated to kindly and accepted into this community so wonderfully and so fast. you’ve all restored my faith in humanity. happy to have a place to be horny and angsty and feral without judgement :)

part 1

────── ☾ ──────

Aemond was not in attendance for breakfast. You apologized to Alicent, lying that you had forgotten he had told you he was traveling to Harrenhall first thing.

The truth was, you and Aegon returned to the Red Keep immediately after your rendezvous in the Street of Silk, and you had completely forgotten about Aemond until you arrived to breakfast and were asked about his absence.

“Not to worry,” Alicent smiled, “that boy is impossible, is he not?”

You laughed in response, “that he is.”

Breakfast was pleasant, apart from the constant staring from Aegon. You could tell he was still worked up, and coming back to the Red Keep meant he had to attend to his duties as King, which meant he had to wait.

And Aegon did not like waiting.

About mid-day, you were in the library with your handmaiden, when a member of the King’s Guard came to fetch you.

“His Grace has requested an audience with you in his chambers, My Lady,” he spoke.

You looked at him, confused. “It is but midday.”

The man in armor sighed. “Yes, My Lady.”

“Should he not be working?” you pressed.

“He says this is work related, My Lady.”

You knew better, but you also knew better than to deny your king.

You were escorted to Aegon’s apartment, not bothering to knock before you pushed the double doors open.

“Aegon, it is the middle of the day,” you said, watching as he turned around at the sound of your voice.

“God, finally, you take fucking forever,” he said, marching up to you and grabbing your waist, pulling your body against his as he enveloped you in a heated kiss.

You giggled, “could this not wait until late?”

Aegon continued to pepper kisses around your face and down your neck. “No,” he whined, “need you now. Waited long enough already.”

“Then why didn’t we just- shit, Aegon did you just bite me?” He just laughed in response and continued bruising your neck. “Why didn’t we just stay out then?”

“And face,” kiss, “the wrath,” kiss, “of my mother? Absolutely not,” kiss, “too risky.”

“‘Tis more risky to be caught by your mother away from the castle than to fornicate with your brother’s wife inside of it?”

Aegon paused for a moment and looked up at you. Suddenly, a hand was around your throat, as Aegon roughly pushed you into a wall.

“You’re mine, you know that? You aren’t his. I don’t care if you’re wed,” he pulled one of your legs up to his waist, granting him access to violently shove a finger inside of you, “I’m the one making you feel like this. In private, you’re mine.”

You cried out at the intrusion of his finger, hips bucking forward as you squirmed.

His hand moved from your throat, only for a brief moment, to slap your cheek.

“Do you understand?”

“Y- yes, My King.”

“Good girl.”

Aegon used both hands to grip under your thighs, lifting you up until your legs were wrapped around him, and carrying you over to the bed, slamming your back down on the side of it.

“Easy, Aeg.”

Aegon let out a growl at the nickname, “you want me to go easy on you? Is that it? You want me to be nice?” he questioned, “or do you want me to fuck you like you so desperately need to be fucked?”

This filthy words took you by surprise, despite your intimate position.

“I, I don’t-“

Aegon’s eyes searched yours for any sense of doubt at your current predicament. “We don’t have to do this, you know.”

“No! I want to, I do, I just- I’ve only actually done this once, and it wasn’t anything like what I saw today.”

Aegon’s cock hardened at your innocence. Even though you were wed to his brother, your body was his, and your pleasure would now be his and his only.

“Tell me if anything hurts,” was all Aegon said before he ripped your clothes off, doing the same for himself, and crawling on top of you.

“Is this what he did, hm? Is this all he taught you?” he asked, jealousy present as he slowly inserted himself into you, bottoming out and watching your face as you adjusted to his size, “did he get to see you like this? All pretty and teary-eyed? Did he make you feel like this?”

“No,” you whimpered.

Aegon began to move slowly, treating you as if you still had your maidenhood, wanting to warm you up before potentially hurting you.

You sighed and moaned lightly, throwing your head back and allowing Aegon to bite at your neck and shoulder again. “Mine.”

You clawed at his back, the feeling becoming too sweet, wanting more but not too sure how to ask for it.

“What is it, angel?” he noticed your frustrations.

“More,” you pleaded.

He smiled, capturing your lips in a kiss and he began to thrust faster and faster into you.

“Tell me how it feels,” he commanded.

“G- good,” you responded, inarticulate as you’d ever been.

“Is this how Aemond makes you feel?” he spat.

“N- no,” you responded, “on-on- shit, only you.”

“Good girl,” he cooed, fucking you hard and fast, splitting you open on his cock.

“Aegon?” you caught his attention.

“Mhm?”

“I still feel like I want more,” you sighed out.

Aegon smiled, pulling out of you completely.

“That’s the opposite of m-“

Without warning, Aegon flipped your body, pulling your waist so your ass was against his hardness. His dominate hand reached over your back to press your head into the mattress as he inserted himself back into you, the new sensation from the position making you grow even wetter.

Aegon snapped his hips harshly, watching your entire body fold in half as you lost any strength that was keeping your upper body from going completely slack against the sheets. You cried out at the pleasure, Aegon’s hand finding its way to your hair, balling your hair into his fist as he tugged.

Your neck swung back, not getting the memo.

“Up,” he demanded, pulling even harder at your hair as you helped push yourself up so your back was flush against Aegon’s chest, his cock hitting another new angle.

One of his hands remained on your waist, holding you close, as the other wrapped around your throat, his lips kissing your shoulder.

“Shit, angel, he doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“Would you p- shit, would you please s-stop mentioning Aemond?” you asked, “don’t wanna t-hink about him. Only wanna t-hink ab-about you.”

Your words drove Aegon mad, his thrusts becoming even more erratic and harsh. “Is that what you think of when you feel like this, huh? You think about me?”

“Hm,” you hummed in response, having used all your energy to form your last sentence.

“No one else will ever make you feel like this,” he told you, not leaving any room for any question about it.

“Don’- don’t want anyone else,” you whined.

The hand around your throat found its way in between your legs, rubbing circles on your clit as you moaned out in pleasure.

“Filthy whore,” he spat, likening you the girls you had seen earlier that day, “you fucking love this, huh?”

Tears began to spill from your eyes from his words, as well as the feeling of his cock splitting you open and his hand working your clit. It was almost too much, but felt so, so good.

“Yes, M-My King.”

“You like being treated like those girls you saw today? Is that it? Poor baby just wants her king to split her open?”

His words made you moan, adding more to your pleasure.

He continued on, hitting a soft, spongy spot within you that felt like heaven.

A coil began to form inside of you, and Aegon could feel your walls tightening around him.

You pawed at him, unsure of what the feeling was, and nervous it meant something was wrong.

“Sh,” he purred, “it’s supposed to feel like that.”

You trusted him, allowing him to continue as the squeezing around his cock led him to his own high. His thrusts became particularly violent, causing the coil of tension to break within you as his seed spilled into you.

You threw your head back into his shoulder, attempting to catch your breath as Aegon stayed inside of you until his cock began to soften.

When he finally pulled out, you both crashed onto the mattress, his body staying close to yours as you finally calmed your breathing down.

“Did you, did you-“ you started, not sure how to phrase it.

“Don’t worry,” he caught your train of thought, “we’ll just get you some moon tea. You won’t end up with a bastard child.”

He completely forgot that you knew nothing about this stuff that he hadn’t already taught you. “What the hell is moon tea?”

[sturnsdoll]

𝙍𝙄𝙑𝘼𝙇𝙍𝙔-`♡´- -c.s & t.y x reader

requested?: i've been bombarded to write another. so here y'all go!

pairing: dom!chris x dom!tara x sub!reader

summary: during a car ride home, your two friends get in a ridiculous arguement over who's better at pleasing women. both of them decide that you'll be the judge of that when you get to tara's.

warnings: no use of y/n, smut, threesome!, oral (f! & m! revieving), fingering, petnames (honey, good girl), cocky!tara&chris

word count: 4,446

authors note: ANOTHA ONE!! (don't like? don't read!)

"pink" = reader "orange" = chris "purple" = tara

it had felt like an extremely long day out despite it only having been a few hours you'd actually been with your friends. earlier, your friend tara had invited you out to do a little shopping and get some food. already being at the triplets home, you chose to invite them- however only chris had been free to come for the day.

the three of you got along surprisingly well, it'd been yap city the entire day between you guys. now though, it was time to head to tara's to sleepover. it had taken some convincing but you'd convinced chris to come for the (not so) girls night at hers.

dominic fike played lowly through the car, chris's choice of course but one that you and tara didn't particularly mind at all. she was currently driving her hot pink detailed vehicle. chris was in shot gun and you'd taken the back, wanting the space for a little nap.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"i think it's insane that some guys just like... can't make a girl cum?" tara said outlandishly, a little giggle on the end. chris laughed, a little taken aback at the odd conversation starter but not necessarily put off by it.

chris nodded subtly "yea, it's a little insane" he said, not a ton of interest in the conversation, he seemed mildly uncomfy talking about it. tara eyed him suspiciously, making a face that implied she was thinking about something. "you ever made a girl cum?" tara asked the younger man bluntly.

chris looked a little nervous, or more so slightly uncomfortable with the conversation. he shrugged, hesitating before nodding with a "yea?" like the answer was obvious. tara glanced at him again, eyes squinted. "hm."

chris looked at her for a few seconds, expecting her to continue. when she didn't, he decided to question her back "have you?" he felt odd asking it the second it left his lips but she didn't seem to mind, more than open to talking about it.

tara rolled her eyes "obviously. women know their shit when it comes to hoo ha's" she noticed that after her comment, chris had grown silent, side eyeing her clearly. "i'm sure you know your shit too, i'm just saying i'm better at it cause i'm a girl" she explained cockily.

"mhm" at chris's bland response, tara looked him up and down almost with slight judgement, her eyebrow raising slightly "you don't think so?" she questioned challengingly to which chris shrugged "i just know i know my shit. just cause you have a.." he hesitated, not wanting to be disrespectul with his choice word "..have one doesn't mean you automatically know more" chris's body language showed discomfort but his words and tone of voice said that he was sure in what he spoke.

tara almost looked appalled. it was a red light so she whipped her head to look back at you "are you hearing this-" she quieted her voice, cutting herself off when she saw you curled against the car door, practically drooling in a deep sleep.

chris smiled a little at your state "i bet you she'd agree with me" he stated. tara shrugged with a cocky look on her features "guess we'll see when she wakes up" she stated, making an unspoken agreement with chris that your opinion would be their tie breaker.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

once you'd woke up and arrived at tara's, they didn't immediately bombard you with the ridiculous question. instead, you all made your ways to tara's living room, taking seats and talking about the day out, the only illuminants in the room being moonlight splashing through the windows mixed with low lamp light.

right after debriefing your day out, chris and tara seemed to exchange looks and simultaneously fall silent. you looked confused, smiling at your friends almost awkwardly "something wrong?" almost the second you spoke, chris piped in. "do you think that being a girl automatically means you're better at.. pleasing women?.." chris had an awkward smirk, almost more so a smile as he questioned you- he knew it was random.

looking between the two of them in shock you shrugged "i mean- i've been with both and some women suck too so, i guess not?"

tara groaned half playfully. "noo, you were supposed to agree with me" she complained. chris had an 'i told you so' look as she spoke. you put two and two together and realized this was a debate between the two.

you shrugged with a quiet "sorry" before sipping on the water you'd been neglecting to drink all day. chris opened his mouth to say something (that probably would've made tara flip.) but before he got to speak, tara interuppted "still doesn't mean that you're any better" she responded, crossing her legs and arms with an annoyed glint to her brown eyes when they fell on chris.

chris leaned back in his seat, legs spreading as he brought his pepsi can towards his lips "guess we'll never know" he told tara, a small shrug following.

you watched the way he leaned back in his seat, the way tara's crossed arms pushed her boobs up for a better view. finding your mind running, you wondered who's really better at pleasing. they're the one's who'd inflicted the idea afterall. in a spur of the moment, spontaneous decision, you decided to say something that'd either ruin or make the night.

"why don't we find out?"

both their eyes snapped to yours. you looked at them like it hadn't been you who just said it, your eyes widened in instant regret, looking almost petrified of their inevitable reactions.

tara was the first to snap out of the shock of your words. her lips curved to a smirk as she slowly turned her head to chris "yea, why don't we?" she questioned "unless you're scared you'll lose?" she directed at him challengingly, a daring glint in her eyes.

he licked his lips, opening his mouth like he had a million things to say. yet, all that came out was a choked laugh, practically a scoff. your eyes had been so focused between the two of them that you didn't even notice his hand creeping along the couch till it firmly rested on your knee.

his eyes locked on yours with question of if you were okay with this. you took hold of your bestfriends hand and guided it further up your thigh, a sign for him to do as he pleases.

and oh was he was going to.

in the blink of an eye his lips were on yours, free hand on the side of your jaw. all the while you heard shuffling behind you, then the cushion of the couch sunk down. tara's perfume clouded your senses as she moved up against your back.

you heard a light smack and chris's hand dissapeared, replaced by tara's on your thigh. you assumed she'd swatted his hand away. "my turn first" she demanded, confirming your suspicions. chris didn't protest. he broke away from your lips and got up when she nodded for him to. if he had to wait to please you that was fine with him, he was sure it'd only be better if he went after tara anyways since then you'd be all sensitive for him already.

tara's delicate fingers found the strings on your sweats, pulling them loose. she muttered for you to lay down, head on the arm rest and you did. as she worked on discarding your pants, your eyes wandered to chris whom was removing his belt.

you wanted to question what he was doing but you were caught off gaurd by tara's thumb gently pressing onto your clit through your panties. you watched as she took her glistening thumb to her lips with a smirk. she sucked the residue off lightly. "already soaked for me, honey?" tara cooed softly, earning a glare from chris.

jesus you were already soaked through your underwear? well that's not embarassing at all.

tara only smiled, leaning down between your legs. you watched in anticipation as her hands grabbed the insides of your knee's to push them apart. then one hand came down to hook the front of your pretty thong and pull it to the side. she practically drooled at the sight of you, throbbing at the thought of how wet you'd gotten for her- well for both friends already.

with a bat of her lashes she met your gaze, a sickeningly sweet smile as she leaned down and attached her lips around your clit. a surprised whine left from your lips, head tilting back on the arm rest. that's when you were met with the sight of chris.

(if anyone gets confused about the position, click here)

"you feel good?" he questioned, his face hard to read as his eyed roamed your body, from where your shirt rolled up your stomach all the way down to tara's head buried in your thighs.

upon trying to answer, she un-expectedly began flicking her tongue over your throbbing bud. "yea.." you said, voice high pitched and needy for more. he stood behind the arm of the couch so you had to look upside down at him from where your head lay.

your eyes roamed down his body to find his clothes still on, but jeans boxers pulled to his thighs as he stroked himself slowly, mouth agape at the sight of you.

his waist was level with where your head rested on the arm of the couch. chris shuffled a little closer to gently grab your chin, tilting your head back. you came face to face with his angry red tip that was leaking from the sight of you being devoured infront of him.

he stroked your cheek soothingly as he spoke "can i use your mouth, gorgeous?" despite his sweet tone of voice, his tip forced your bottom lip up. you could already feel the blood rush to your head from having it tilted back over the arm of the couch. your mouth opened for him compliantly, tongue darting out to run over his length.

he took that as a yes, thrusting half the length of his dick through your lips at the same time tara sucked your clit through her teeth, nibbling almost painfully.. almost.

your hips lifted as you choked out a moan around your friends dick. you could feel the smirk on tara's lips against your heat and your sure chris's expression matched. your male friend used his large hand covering your chin, practically on your throat, to keep you where he wanted as he completely thrusted his inches down your throat.

you clawed at the couch as you gagged lightly around him. he pulled out before slipping his dick right back in your mouth, quickly finding a slow pace to fuck your mouth at. although you couldn't see it, his mouth was hung open at the sight and feel of you. contrasting that, tara's tongue sucked and flicked fast enough to have your thighs reactively trying to entrap her head.

she smacked your thigh lightly, releasing your clit with a wet noise. you couldn't speak, so instead tried to whine around chris's cock apologetically. it didn't matter though because your clit was momentarily neglected. however, your dripping hole was invaded instead.

as tara's tongue fucked into you, you choked around your other friend, pulling your head back from him. he let you get to the tip to take a breath. your eyes were glossy with tears from having your throat abused, lips red and puffy. "you okay?" he asked, swiping your hair from your face. you nodded quickly, quickly regaining composure. his voice came out low with arousal, but soft at the sight of your cock-drunk features "gonna keep takin' me like a good girl?" his thumb caressed your cheek sweetly as he asked.

you whined, hips rolling into tara's mouth in reaction to his voice. chris was loving how much such a simple thing got you going. he tapped your cheek with his pointer finger gently, reminding you to respond. once you nodded your head for comfirmation, he went right back to chasing his high, slipping himself through your messy drool and cum covered lips.

speaking of chasing high's, your hand slid down shyly to find tara's hair, gripping lightly through her shiny black locks, which she had no protest for at all, even letting a whine out into your cunt that made your hips jolt up. the feel of her tongue was enough to have your head spinning as is, but having your head uncomfortably tilted back to take chris had you feeling like passing out.

as your hips squirmed up, tara placed her arm on your stomach, pushing you back to the cushions. you tried forming incoherent words around chris's cock, making tara chuckle into you. the vibration from her lips made you whine, you tried pulling off chris to inform them of your need to finish but he only pulled you back

(gentle enough that you could indicate to him if you really needed a break or if you were just trying to speak.)

tara watched with amusement as he kept you quiet. "shh, i know it feels good honey" she silenced you, her tongue plunging right back into your tight walls once done speaking. your cries of ecstasy came more frequently now and it was driving chris insane. you could tell by how his pace began to falter that you weren't the only one approaching your high.

knowing you were at the brink of breaking, her tongue entered you one last time, her hand pushing onto your lower abdomen in synch with it. you couldn't help it, this time you pulled your lips off chris and let out a high pitched cry, propping yourself on your elbows to let the blood flow back to your body from your head.

"fuck" you murmured as you held your friends face against your now-leaking cunt, riding your high while watching as she lapped at every drop leaking onto her tongue.

she soon came up your body with a satisfied grin on her lips. those same lips met yours, forcing you to tase yourself. mid kiss you both heard chris groan, causing tara's eyes to open and lips to leave yours. she watched as cum dripped down his dick, minstrated by his now stilled hand. she crawled over you, leaning forward over the arm rest with her tits in your face as she stuck her tongue out to clean up chris.

with them being right there, you took one of her nipples in your mouth. she finished cleaning up chris and then sat up on your hips, making you release her tit with a subtle pop. "this is about you, honey" she states as she gets up off of you and the couch "or at least it was till he shoved his dick down your throat..."

chris rolled his eyes, ignoring her comment and playfully shoving her aside as he approached you, pulling his boxers and jeans back up. "good luck topping that." tara said cockily, referring to how fucked out she'd already caused you to be.

chris only looked at you and smirked. he may not have been yappin' like tara was, but his confidence in outdoing her was pretty damn high. he motioned for you to sit up, so you did. he took a seat beside you and patted his lap. this hadn't been what you were expecting. gladly though you straddled him, hovering slightly.

"made such a fucking mess" he muttered to you. along with his comment, two of his long fingers came out and unexpectedly pushed all your juices back into you, ripping a whine deep from in your throat. his fingers experimentally curled and his name drawled out of your mouth the second they had. he figured you were already all worked up, there was no need to make you wait right?

his blue eyes locked with yours as he repeated the action again, and again.. and again. your hands gripped at each of his shoulders nails surely leaving marks through the fabric. "you like that?" chris's voice sounded patronizingly cockily. his eyes trailing to give tara a shit eating grin when you couldn't even get out a simple 'yes' your head nodding and hips grinding down into his hand instead.

tara was a little further down the couch now from you guys, her eyes locked on the two of you as her hand snaked into her own shorts to rub over her panties. she wanted to be mad at his cocky demeanor but instead, she found herself practically leaking at the over confident smirk he gave her. (not that she'd ever admit it)

your legs shook lightly as you tried to chase his movements with your hips. almost every curl of his fingers elicted some kind of needy noise from you. chris watched in both awe and satisfaction at how overstimulated you were, his fingers purposefully pushing as deep as possible just for a reaction.

your head dropped down to his shoulder, a gutteral moan as you gripped at the sleeve of his hoodie for any kind of stability. "'m not g-gonna last long" you hardly managed through pathetic little whines in his ear.

chris shook his head "no, you're gonna finish with your friend" he told you, eyes glancing between tara, then back to you. you shook your head gently in protest "but-" "shh, you'll live."

when you rested your head sideways to see your female friend, her legs were spread, hand in her shorts and head tilted back as she bit down on her lip to silence herself. but most noteably, her brown eyes were locked on chris's free hand that was currently running along your side.

tara's eyes took in the length and perfect thickness to chris' fingers, the way they gripped at your skin. the sight had her legs closing back up, thigh's squeezing her own hand as a strangled desperate whine finally slipped her glossed lips.

but you weren't the only one who caught sight of tara's wandering eyes. chris's look darkened at it, feeling his ego puffing up at knowing what she was thinking.

"gonna keep gawkin' orr you wanna come here?" there was a newfound cockiness to his tone that made tara smirk, quickly releasing her hand from between her thighs before shuffling down the couch where you and him sat. she was the first to make a move on chris, gripping the younger brunette's jaw gently to place her lips on his.

while his lips messily pressed back to hers, he slyly slipped his arm around tara's waist, pulling her in so her side was rested right against his. she lifted her hips to remove her black denim jorts, slipping them off onto the floor along with her (now wet) panties.

you were far from neglected during this entire interaction, rutting your hips all the way down chris's fingers as they curled into you with just the right amount of pressure to have your nails clawing further into his hoodie. the sight of your two friends messily swallowing each others mouths eagerly was like having a porno unfold right before your eyes.

chris' hand grazed down tara's stomach, agonizingly slow all the way to her waist. he intentionally missed where he should have been heading to go straight for her thigh's.

she wasn't really in the mood for it right now, further evident by her clutching his roaming hand into hers, forcing it to cup her soaked cunt instead. her hips greedily pushed into his hand, causing them to both to smile into the kiss.

now you tried not to get jealous of the both of them as you watched but it was becoming increasingly hard. tara's eyes momentarily flashing to catch your needy stare caused her to break off from chris' lips.

her soft fingers went for your throat, wrapping with just enough pressure to make you gasp in surprise. with that same grip she forced you towards her, her mouth coming to yours. instead of connecting your lips, she gently bit your bottom lip. sinking her teeth in gently and tugging your lip back, grinning when your gasp turned into a whine from both the sting of the bite along with the overwhelming feeling of chris's fingers.

which speaking of, were now circling tara's clit with his other hand. she was constantly gasping, her lips now trailing your jaw and her hand squeezing your neck tighter in response to chris's movements.

feeling the need to join in, chris' began mouthing at the unoccupied side of your neck, his eyes fluttering shut, soaking in the sounds of both your pleasured noises. he felt a sense of pride knowing it was because of him.

your body was hot all over, nearly feeling like you could pass out from but too caught up in being finger fucked by your friend to care. chris could tell you wouldn't be able to hold off much longer, so he tauntingly moved his wrist further forward to curl his digits deeper into you.

"'m-" you cut yourself off with a moan as they both sucked down on different parts of your neck in synch. you'd think they planned it with how in unison their mouths worked dark purple marks onto you.

forgetting to repeat yourself, your jaw just fell slack, gripping chris' arm warningly. "close?" he mumbled in question against your bruised skin. upon hearing you breathing out an "uh huh", he knew he was gonna need to get tara there faster if he wanted you both to finish together. so he switched to circling your friends clit with the pad of his thumb instead, slowly fucking two fingers into her.

tara parted from your neck to look at chris like she had something to say about it but was quickly shut up when his fingers brushed the spongey spot deep inside her, having her reeling for more of it.

she had already been close from her own previous work on herself so she wasn't gonna last much longer either, announcing it by mumbling next to chris' ear that he was "doing so good" her voice lacked the same cockiness from earlier, sounding needy now,

chris bit his lip to suppress a smile at the praise for how good he was doing at pleasing the both of you. now the only rivalry with chris that tara could care about was if he was making you or her cum first, the argument from earlier long lost in her mind.

he himself had been trying to contain himself from growing hard again at the gorgeous sight of his two friends falling apart on top of, as well as beside him. he wasn't sure when or how he started but his hips were subconciously rutting up into your thigh in rythym with the pace of his fingers inside you.

the sight and sounds of both of you was almost too much, he spoke up to try and talk you both to the edge "c'mon, look so pretty taking it" he started breathlessly, his head was now dropped onto your shoulder, but facing toward tara. so as he spoke, you and tara both assumed he was speaking to yourselves. (which was his intention)

he didn't think about his words as they spilled from his lips, eager to feel you both finish "'know you can cum for me together" his voice was lower, clearly more affected by his clothed dick against your thigh than he'd like to admit.

with an aggresive amount of sudden pressure to both your clits, he got his wish.

walls fluttering around his fingers, your head tilted back, a babble of noises that were meant to be words came strangled from your lips. the hand of yours that wasn't grabbing chris's sleeve reached over to find tara's free hand and grab it, which she happily held, squeezing your hand back with a breathless giggle as her own walls closed and convulsed on chris's knuckles too.

you became overwhelmed quickly, having already came once before this. chris caught on to this by the way your hand was sliding down his arm to his wrist, wordlessly grabbing it in warning. he observed the way your brows knitted together, lips puffing out when he slowly removed his fingers from your fluttering walls.

only seconds later he released his hand from between tara's thigh's too. before chris could process it, tara took his fingers drenched in her slick to her mouth, wrapping around them. his lips parted in a gentle gasp and you took the opportunity to guide his own fingers from his other hand to his lips, encouraging him to tase you as well.

he gladly complied. his blue eyes locked on yours as he sucked his own digits dry of your juices. once he released his fingers, tara realeased his from her mouth as well.

panting, your eyes raked chris in disbelief, this is when you saw the huge wet patch on chris's sweatpants. you giggled teasingly, tara clearly having observed the sight to because she was giggling right along with you, shaking her head as she said "noo way" tauntingly

chris's cheeks tinted a dark shade of red as he groaned "shut the fuck up" to both of you, clearly a little embarassed. his hands quickly found your hips to lift you off him onto the couch. he stood up, rushing to the bathroom.

you and tara both combusted into laughter, wheezing and smacking at each other due to laughing so hard as you watched him walk away, uncomfortably grabbing his crotch.

"i hate you guys!" grumbling like an angry kid he slammed the bathroom door shut.

"love you too!" both of you yelled back in unison to the bathroom door.

tara shuffled to face you as she began putting her clothes back on "okay it's just us, be honest, i was better right?" tara asked wish a raised eyebrow. you had to look away from her as you spoke your truth "you were great!" you responded enthusiastically to avoid the question.

tara knew what your avoidance meant. chris had 'won'.

tara gasped dramatically (mostly) pretending to be offended "girl! fuck you" she playfully shoved your arm as you both giggled, knowing it wasn't that serious.

and despite being 'quiet' (neither of you were.) chris had most certainly heard the conversation from the bathroom and was more than pleased to hear it.

not that he wouldn't have gladly fucked some sense into you another time but, still glad he'd proved his point.

he won.

thank you to everyone for being patient. i was having writers block so this took a longggg time to come out but i'm back on my shit so send more reqs!

tagsᥫ᭡: @mattsrod @sturncakez @watercolorskyy @pettydollie @sturniol0s @6ix9inewiturmom @sonicsmacks @fratbrochrisgf @eyelovedher89 @bernardsbendystraws @riversandwinds

[charlieleclerc16]

A game of UNO*

Summary: Charles and Y/N play a game of strip UNO. The rules are of course made up by Charles himself.

Pairing: bestfriend!Charles x reader

Word count: 4K

Warnings: No actual smut, as in P in V. Just a LOT of tension and ofc sexual topics such as stripping, making out, boners etc.

A/N:  I guess I am now writing for Charles too. This story is originally posted on my other blog, so if it's familiar.. That's why lol. Also, funfact, I actually played a game of UNO with myself to get these cards to be accurate haha

Like they say; as we mature, the relationship matures with us. And so does the friendship between Y/N and Charles. The countless weekends going out to pubs are now spent mostly in the comfort of their own homes playing board games and watching movies. Of course, they liked to go out and drink, and God they still drink quite a lot. But they don’t care for loud music and sweaty people all around them.

Nearly every weekend, when there are no races, they come together and spend time like they always do. Downing a few bottles of white, munching on a delicious charcuterie platter, and just enjoying each other’s company. Today was like no other. Charles perched down in the corner of the comfy sofa and Y/N is getting the glasses ready for the delicious liquid.  

“Can we watch The Notebook tonight?” Y/N said as she walked into her living room with two wine glasses and the bottle of white she had been craving all day. Charles simply chuckles and gives her a judgemental look. “What?” She asks him.

“Haven’t we seen that movie like a billion times already?” He laughs. Secretly Charles is a sucker for a good romance movie and Y/N is all too familiar with his preferences. When they were both still in their teen years and just met in school, Y/N had never seen The Notebook before and Charles insisted she needed to see it.

“I mean yes, but you know I love this movie.” Y/N states, remote control in her hand to turn on the movie with a smirk on her face. She lets out a sneaky giggle, getting all comfy against his body stretched out on the sofa. Charles’ strong arm wraps around her body so naturally. His delicious scent immediately relaxing her. 

* * * Halfway through the movie, Charles gets bored. Each of them are two glasses of wine in and Charles is just ready for some action. He lifts his body off of the sofa making Y/N whine at the loss of contact. He makes his way to her board game stash. His feet drag across the floor and his hips sway from left to right, dancing his way to the cabinet. She laughs at him, the dork.

“What are you doing?” She questions, he is so cute dancing around your living room with his glass in his hand. 

“I am done watching that movie, again. I wanna play a game.” He says with a mischievous smirk across his face. The little twinkle in his eyes tells her he really is up to no good. He opens the top drawer of the board game cabinet and pushes around some of the stuff in there. 

“Ah! There it is.” Charles chuckles. He turns around holding the pack of UNO in his right hand. He brings it back over to the coffee table and opens up the little box as he sits down on the floor. 

“You don’t want to watch a movie we’ve seen a billion times yet you do want to play a game we have played a billion times?” She questions Charles, although she has a feeling that there’s a catch. The look on his face tells her he is not about to propose a simple game of UNO.

“See, you got that wrong baby.” The smirk on his face is only growing bigger and bigger. “There's a twist.” The scared look on Y/N’s face is priceless to Charles. She grabs the remote control to press pause, putting all her attention on the man in front of her.

“How about we add some spicy rules to the game?” The room falls silent aside from the heavy breathing escaping her lips. 

“What do you mean, Charles?” She whispers.

“I think you know exactly what I mean.” He says as he starts shuffling the cards. “Okay so, since it’s just the two of us, we shouldn’t’ make too many additions. How about every time you can match a numbered card or wild card with the most recently played card, the other person has to take off one clothing item.” His gaze never leaves her eyes. He starts dealing the cards as if he expects her to just go along with his plan. “Let’s also say for every +2 played, the other person also has to take off one item instead of drawing two cards.” And that’s how the rules are played out.

“I don’t know, Charles.” She says looking down at the cards as she picks them up in her hand one by one. Her first card is a yellow 1. She looks at the second card before she adds it to her hand, a red reverse card. The third card she picks up has her widening her eyes, a yellow +2. She picks up the rest of the cards and she joins Charles on the floor beside the coffee table. She has already decided to play along. 

“What if this ruins our friendship?” She asks.

“Then we’ll stop being friends.” Charles chuckles, lust covering his eyes.

“We can’t stop being friends just because of a game of UNO, dummy.” 

“What if afterwards, you don’t want to be friends because you want to be more than that.” The flirty smirk on his face is weakening her entire body. Fuck. She’s had the longest crush on the man in front of her. Her whole body is yearning to be close to him. Of course, she wants to be way more than that.

“This would have to be the most seductive game of UNO for that to happen.” She tries to shrug off the nerves in her body. Not really doing a great job at just that.

“Shut up and play your first card.”

Charles flips over the top card of the deck. A green 1 lying flat on the table. She takes a look at the cards in her hand. There’s no green so she decides on a yellow 1. She places down the card and a hissing sound coming from Charles’ lips pulls her attention to his eyes. The look on his face looks like pure mischief. His long fingers drag through his cards. He pinches one of them in between his thumb and pointer finger with a big smirk on his lips. God, he looks so kissable. 

She takes a big chug from her glass. Charles slams down his card, showing the yellow 1 matching your card perfectly. 

“I would’ve never guessed I’d be getting you out of your clothes so quickly.” His voice was low and husky. Her wine glass barely touches the table before she brings it back to her lips for another chug making Charles chuckle at her nerves. 

She thinks for a second before she hooks her fingers on the welt of her right sock. Her knees press into her chest and she takes both socks off, one by one. 

“Hold on, this isn’t fair. You’re wearing more clothes than I am.” Charles states as she see his brain calculating. They’re both wearing socks, jeans and a T-shirt. But Charles refers to what’s underneath that. Suddenly she feel thankful for deciding on wearing a bra today, because that’s not a given for every day.

“Well, I guess that’s just my advantage of being forced to strip for you.” She shrugs.

“I did not force you.” He pouts making her giggle. She looks at the table to check back in with the card that’s last been played before diving back into her cards. She can’t help but let the slightest smirk appear on her lips before she plays the yellow +2 in her hands. 

“Fuck.” Charles laughed. “Off with the socks we go.” He continues as he takes both of them off in a swift motion. He adds them to where her socks are piled up together. 

Charles looks in his cards. There is a red +2 in his hand which he could just play right now but he decides to keep that one in his hand for a little longer. Instead, he pulls out a yellow 5.

Y/N sighs, feeling relieved that she doesn’t have to get rid of any more clothes right now. The anxious yet thrilling feeling is riling her up. She have never felt any excitement like this before. Charles and Y/N have been friends since forever and she has had the biggest crush on him for nearly as long. Her eyes always lingered a bit too long when they went to swimming together and he was in just his swimming trunks. Or the goosebumps his touch left on her skin as his fingers danced along her arm as a small sign of affection. Friendly affection, but it still made her feel all sorts of ways.

Both of them play a couple of cards before Charles has a big smirk plastered across his face again. Uh oh. His fingers stride along his cards again before he picks one. He places a red 7 on top of your blue 7. 

“Wouldn’t it be fun if your seven was blue too?” He says as he scooches a bit closer, their legs now touching. 

“Stooop, you make me nervous.” She blushes.

“Don’t be. It’s just me.” Charles reassures her and wraps his empty hand around her ankle. His thumb moves in soft strokes up and down. She knows he tries to calm her down but every stroke of his thumb is sent straight to her clit. 

Y/N plays a red reverse card. Allowing her to play another card since it’s a two-player game of UNO. She’s all out of red so she draws a card, a red 4. She places it down and look back up to Charles who still has his hand on her ankle. 

“Isn’t that fortunate?” Charles teases. 

“Just from you saying that, I know there’s nothing fortunate about it for me.” She mumbles as she frightens the next card that he will put on the table. 

Charles has a twinkle in his eyes looking at the card in his hand. The red +2 is going to get rid of her first clothing item that’ll actually reveal some skin. Charles too had been pining over her for years. He started loving her in a bit more than just a friendly kind of way around the age of 16. Now 10 years later, nothing had changed. Both of them had been dating people, trying to distract themselves from the massive crushes on each other. But at the end of the day, they always came back to each other.

He finally places his card down, an excited look on his face. But she quickly takes her green +2 and smack it down on the table.

“Hah!” She yelps. “That makes two items for you to be gone!” 

“Nah-ah, baby. Haven’t you read the rules before?” He states. “We both have to get rid of one item.” Charles smirks. Mr know it all, why does he know all rules of UNO? Probably because they have played it so many times.

“+2 plus +2 equals drawing four cards. Simple.” She argues but Charles already pulled out the rules from the box. He reads out the bit about how when your opponent plays a +2 card, you have to draw two cards and afterwards may continue your turn. Y/N is kind of sad that Charles isn’t going to get rid of both his jeans AND t-shirt.

Charles takes hold of the hem of his shirt with both his arms crossed before he drags the fabric over his head. In the meantime, she stands up to unbutton her jeans. She gets distracted by the beautiful sight in front of her. His abs are gorgeously on display his toned skin is like a piece of art. Charles had always been hot. But the more he started driving, the more he started working out. And damn did it do wonders for his body. 

“What are you doing?” Charles asks as he throws his shirt on top of both of their socks. He softly chuckles at her eyes staring down at his torso. 

“Ehm, sorry. I was taking off my jeans.” She states, causing Charles to groan. He shakes his head in a disapproving way. “What?” She asks him.

“Should’ve just taken off your shirt like I did.” He mumbles before he picks up his cards from the table. His eyes go from the discard pile on the table to the cards in his hand. There are no more green cards in his hand so he draws a card. Luckily it’s a green one so he places it on the pile. 

“Hmpf, nah. I’ll keep my shirt on for a bit longer.” She mumbles softly. Being shirtless always makes her feel so exposed. Her insecurities would peak without a shirt so she’d rather keep it on for as long as possible. Charles notices how she tries to hide herself. His hand finds its place back on her ankle and slowly travels up to her calf, stroking up and down.

“You have no idea how god damn beautiful you are, do you?” He reassures and she tries to shrug it off.

Both of them have a few cards left in hand but none of them are useful. They draw a few cards, and some of them are played immediately. Y/N look at her cards and forges a plan. With a smirk on her face, she plays a wild card allowing her to change the active colour to blue. But she has instant regret when she sees a smirk on Charles’ face that’s even wider than her own. 

His fingers pick a card from his hand but before he places it down he tugs it back and picks up another one to play. A simple blue 9 lays down on the table. But the twinkle in his eyes never left.

She sighs and take a big sip of wine to empty her glass. She places her cards down on the table and gets up to grab the bottle of wine in the fridge.

“Cute undies.” Charles coos since her shirt doesn’t reach past her bum. 

She comes back with the cold bottle and fills up both of their glasses, emptying the second bottle of the evening. The glasses are a bit full but who cares? She places the bottle down on the coffee table and sits back in her spot.

The plan she made a few minutes ago still works, she plays a blue reverse card allowing her to take another turn since it’s just the two of them playing. Next, she plays a blue skip card to grant her another turn. And last up she plays a plain blue 6. During all three of these cards, the smirk on Charles’ face grew back more comprehensive and she just knows what is coming. 

The blue +2 that hits the table was expected, and is followed by a shout of UNO!

“Fuck.” She mumbles and takes a gulp from her glass. “Fine.” She continues before she grabs the hem of her shirt. She drags it out, trying to hold off for as long as possible. But the anticipation is turning Charles on even more. Of course, he has seen her in a bikini before, but this is different. This feels different.

Her shirt is added to the growing pile in front of the sofa. Charles notices how she feels a bit uncomfortable. Her eyes avoid his and she is unsure where to actually look. His hand reaches out for her and slides from her upper arm all the way down to her hand. He holds onto it for a little while, squeezing ever so softly.

“You really are the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.” He reassures her by giving her the exact confidence boost she needed. 

After Y/N plays her second to last card, Charles is able to finish the game by playing his very last card. Leaving him in his jeans and boxers and her in just her bra and panties. 

“Let’s go for another round.” She states and already starts collecting all cards to shuffle them. Charles chuckles at her newly gained confidence. He is so ready to play a second round. 

She deals the cards, places the deck back on the table, and flip over the top card of the deck. A yellow 4 is laying on the table. 

“Since I won last round, you may start this one." 

She places down a green 4 on top of the yellow one on the table. A simple but steady start, she thinks. 

“Oh shit.” Charles says and places down the green 4 he already had in his hand, ready to play. “I’m so sorry, baby. You don’t have to…” He adds, suddenly getting nervous at the realization he is finally going to see her topless after years of wondering and imagining what she’d look like underneath.

“The game’s the game.” She states and lets her hand travel to her back to unclasp her bra. Charles gulped, feeling more nervous than he ever had before in his life. His heart was pounding as he looked into her eyes and saw the unmistakable desire there. He had no idea what she is thinking but he is fascinated by her daringness.

He watches as she pushes the straps of her bra off of her shoulders and drops the garment to the ground. She lets out a deep sigh of pleasure as her breasts become the focus of his attention, and the look in his eyes tells her he wants her just as much as she wants him.

She feels incredibly sexy and alluring. For a brief moment, their eyes meet. She feels a strange and wonderful stirring in her stomach. Her cheeks flush, and she quickly looks away. At that moment, she just knows that she is in trouble.

Without saying anything, she swiftly moves on with the game by placing down her green 8. Charles can’t seem to keep his eyes away from her for too long, giving her an enormous confidence boost. 

Both of them place down a few more cards before she places down her Wild Draw 4 card and change the colour to blue. Charles draws his four cards and takes a good look at his cards. He’s having a hard time focusing on the game with the gorgeous sight in front of him. 

He places down two cards in one go, a blue skip causing him to have a second turn, and a blue 5. 

She places down her blue 8 and shout UNO! Charles looks through his cards again to find any card that may cause her to not finish the game. A Wild Draw 4, a +2, anything at all. But all he has is a blue 2.

“Oh my god, Charles. What are the odds.” She chuckles. 

“What do you mean?” 

She places down a blue 2 on top of his. She’s been waiting for this moment ever since he took his shirt off. Her thoughts have been flooded with the idea of him naked in front of her. It’s all she’s been thinking about for the past years. 

“Fuck. You win the game and I have to take off my jeans?” He laughs. Without another word, he gets up, unbuttons his jeans and zips down his fly. His thumbs hook into the waistband of his jeans to pull them down painfully slow. A soft sign, nearly a moan is heard when his bulge is released from his tight pants. Ever since she had to get rid of her shirt Charles’ cock started hardening beneath him. 

She gasps at the view in front of her. She makes it her mission to get him out of his boxers as soon as possible. The lust in her eyes is inevitable, not knowing where to look. His eyes? His hands, where he is pushing down his jeans? Or his bulge, which is honestly where she just wants to keep looking at.

Tension is rising and she can’t wait for him to add the last bit of his clothes to the growing pile. His jeans finally drop to the floor and he lifts his right foot trying to step out. His ankle gets stuck and she reaches out instinctively to hold the jeans down, helping him get out. She allows him to step out before she adds the denim to the pile of clothes. 

Charles sits back down close to her. Both their legs touch again but now there is no fabric in between holding back the skin to skin contact. She looks down at where her legs touch and look back up to him.

“Hi.” He says with a soft smile across his lips. God those lips, they have never looked more kissable. Or is it just her mind playing games? Her thoughts are all over the place. All she wants is to just push him over, straddle him and kiss him. Everywhere. 

“Hey.” She chuckles before a nervous laugh is heard from Charles’ side. Her eyes drop down to his boxers. He chose to wear navy blue Calvin Klein’s this morning and she is so thankful for his choice. The dark fabric accentuates his skin perfectly. An outline visible around his growing member. 

“Eyes up here, baby.” He snorted as if he isn’t having the hardest time keeping his own eyes away from her tits. 

“Sorry.” She whispers before Charles holds out his hand for her to grab. His thumb dances on the back of your hand. Both of them are quiet for a little bit as they soak up each other. 

After what feels forever but actually are only 1,5 minutes, Y/N speaks up.

“Charles? What are we doing?” She questions him, still holding onto him as she looks their connected hands. 

“Hmm, I don’t know actually.” He replies. His free hand reaches with his forefinger for her chin and pushes her face up so she’d have to look in his eyes. “All I know is that I want you. So, fucking, bad.”

Her eyes light up. She can’t believe he really admitted what he just said and without a second thought she gives in to her desire of just a few minutes ago. 

Y/N lets go of Charles’ hand and pushes him onto the floor by his shoulders. Simultaneously she climbs on top of him, causing a muted “oh” to fall from his lips. He is surprised by her actions and honestly, so is she. His hands grab her by her hips as she sits down on his stomach, avoiding contact with his aching cock. 

Their lips finally connect. Ten long years are coming together in this sweet and lustful kiss. Charles’ right hand travels up and down her side as his left nestles into her hair. The two of them sink into the living room floor, both desperate for the connection they have been longing for. 

His opens his mouth and gently sucks Y/N’s lip between his. He lets go after a few seconds and licks softly over her bottom lip. Her heart races as her spine arches under his touch causing him to naturally pull her closer. She opens her mouth to allow her tongue to join his, going back and forth. 

She moans with pleasure and their tongues intertwine even more vigorously, entangling with one another in a desperate search for more pleasure. Each movement they make is somehow more tantalizing than the last. Their hands exploring each other's body with a deep hunger for more.

Y/N wishes this moment would last forever. She is scared of what might happens next, what if this is just a heat of the moment kind of kiss and they really can’t go back to being just friends. Or maybe that is exactly what Charles meant with his ‘Then we’ll just stop being friends’. 

Charles’ hand roams down her back. He moans a bit louder when he finally touches her bum. She feels a firm squeeze on her left cheek, ripping a moan from her throat. Y/N bucks her hips instinctively at the sweet tingles in her core.

Their lips part for a second and she presses her forehead against his. Both of them are a panting mess, feeling completely out of this world. With Charles’ hand still squeezing her bottom he speaks up.

“How about we take this to the bedroom, baby?” He whispers.

[getosbigballsack]

Random thought! Baby Daddy Gojo x Complicated Baby Mama! Reader

But just imagine fighting with your baby daddy Gojo. He wasn't yours to begin with a wild man on the run looking for some good pussy to fuck. He got a taste of you and knocked you up with his child on the first night. It wasn't intentional. He just forgot to put the condom on, promising to not ejaculate inside your hole. But he couldn't resist a good pussy.

So now here you are, the mother of his two year old child arguing back and forth with him all because you refused to spend the night over at his house.

It's no secret. Almost everyone knew, including your family, that you were still sleeping with your baby daddy. So if that's the case, then why not make the relationship official already? The answer is simple, Gojo is not ready for a committed relationship like that. But he begs to differ.

"Y/N, stop fighting with me. Come on, baby girl, you know you wanna ride this dick so stop playing with me and get back in bed," he whined as he watched as you fixed the ends of your sundress. "Come on baby, it's just after 10. Where are you gonna go at this time of the night?

"Can you shut up and go put some clothes on?"

He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes as he got out of bed, grabbed his robe that was close by, and put it on. "Seriously, Y/N, are you really just gonna leave after we had some amazing sex?"

You took a deep breath before turning to face him. "It wasn't supposed to happen, I only came here to drop off our son."

"And you somehow ended up in my bed, yeah, right."

You rolled your eyes, pushed past him, and made your way towards the door. You weren't in any mood to have this conversation. Yeah, he's right. You both just had amazing sex, something that you needed after the rough week you had, and you're in such a good mood right now. You'd be damned if you allowed Gojo to sully your mood.

But be damned all you want, Gojo had a few words he wanted to get off his chest before you walked out that door.

"Why do you always keep running away from me? Why do you treat me like this? For fuck sakes, we have a child together and you treat me as though I'm just a one night fucking stand."

"Gojo can we please not do this right now, I just wanna..."

"No! We are going to talk about this. Why do you keep running away from me?” He asked as he grabbed a hold of your hand, spun you around, and pressed you up against the door. “Huh? Don’t you wanna be with me Y/N? Is this the kind of relationship you want to display in front of our son?” 

You swallow, eyes looking up to meet his eyes  with a frown. “Of course not.”

“So what’s stopping us from being together? Huh? What excuse do you have this time?” he asked, as he rested his hand upon your hip, squeeze it a bit before pressing you even more into the door. “You still think I’m not ready to be in a committed relationship with you?” 

He knew that that was exactly why you won’t be with him. He was a good fuck, and of course an amazing dad to your son. He did what he needed to do for you (during your pregnancy) that is. And even after that he ensured that you, the mother of his child, wants for nothing. However it still doesn’t change the fact that he only just a good fuck, nothing more, nothing less. He’s incapable of being in a committed relationship, after all you knew about his reputation for being a slut, the playboy tattoo on his hip bone just reminded you everytime that he conquered more pussy than one could ever count. He’s just too untrustworthy for your taste. 

“If you already know the answer, then why ask?” 

“Because I think you’re just being very stubborn and judgemental at this point,”he whispered as he released your hips and pushed himself away from. “Leave if you want to, I’ll go jerk off in the bathroom once you leave.”

You frowned, “Seriously Gojo?” 

“And there you go using my last as if you didn’t just squirt and cum all over dick,” he said sarcastically as he sat on his bed, pointed at the door just waiting for you to leave. “I don’t want to waste your time and kill your good mood with idiotic rambling. I’ll drop our son off at your place next weekend, okay?” 

You let out a frustrated sigh and yanked the door. “I never once judged you Go…" Satoru.”

He scoffed, “Yeah right, give me a fucking break yeah. You do, you always do.” 

“I never…” 

“Fucking hell, you do Y/N. Always calling me a slut whenever you're around my friends or yours, making sly remarks and disgusted faces whenever you hear something as it regards what happened in my sex life. Don’t make me go there,” He half yelled, quickly remembering that the sleeping boy’s bedroom was closeby. “For fuck sakes, you’re always using the fact that I love having sex to judge who I am without even giving me a fucking chance. If I’m such a fucking slut and a disgusting whore, then why sleep with me, why do you keep coming back to ride my fucking dick off into next dawn? Why, Y/N?”

“Sa…”

“I’ve waited two years for you… I’ve tried showing you that yeah I may be a slut, but I’m more than ready to have family with you. How many times have I confessed to you? How many times have I told you that I love you, and what do you do? Discard my fucking feelings, say that I’m unworthy and you don’t trust me. And oh yeah my favourite, I’m too much of a slut. Yeah Y/N, Fucking ok, no problem, like I said, you can leave. I don’t want to waste your time and I need to go jerk my cock, since the woman that I love doesn't wanna be with me.” 

Too stunned to even come up with a proper response, you blurted out without thinking, “I’m pretty sure… You have other women on speed dial to come fuck you if you so badly wanted to have sex.” 

He turned around, looked you up and down, then laughed, “The other woman that is now in my block list and deleted contacts all because I wanted to have a family with you. Yeah, thanks for reminding me that being faithful to one woman sucks.”

You stood there in silence, not knowing what to say or what to do. You only just watched as he removed his robe from his shoulders and let it pool around his legs as he dug through the drawer on his nightstand. You watched as he pulled out a flesh light with a bottle of lube. “Do you mind?” He asked, not sparring you a glance as he got comfortable on his bed. He picked up his phone along with his earpods, clogged his ears, and then went about to do what he should have been all these years instead chasing after your judgemental ass. 

You didn’t bother watching, you just walked out the moment he squirted lube all over his cock before grabbing the flesh light. But as soon as you made it down the stairs, and tried leaving through the front door, a voice stopped you, knowing how desperately you wanted to go back and let him fuck you. 

But can you really do that, after all that was said only a few moments ago, and Gojo practically turned out his door after he confessed his love to you. Can you really go back? There is only one way to find out. 

You rushed up the flight of stairs and into the room, gently closing the door before turning to see Gojo with the flesh light around his cock, pumping away as he stared dead at you with his phone turned to your view for you to see a video he made of you a few months, masturbating and rubbing clit all so prettily for him. 

“What? Came back to watch the slut jerk off to a video of his baby mama?” He teased, whimpering too as he did so. 

“No,” you answered quickly. 

“Then what? I'm busy as you can see… I'm pretty sure you know how to let yourself out… ugh! I kinda… fuck. I kinda don't want to see you right now… so go.” 

But you didn't. You only stood there watching as your body went into heat. Pussy started leaking, legs trembling. You wanted to fuck, but also you wanted to take his words into consideration and maybe give the relationship a shot, but right now you wanted his dick. 

“Y/N… can you please just…”

“Satoru.. fuck me please!” His phone fell from his hand, but he never stopped pumping that flesh light. “I know I'm being selfish right, and I know what that seems like, but please… I'm willing to hear whatever it is that you have to say, after we have sex.” 

“But what if I don't want to have sex with you?” He asked, still pumping his hands up and down and around his cock. 

You pouted, but still you quickly turned around and rested your chest against the door, lifted up the ends of your dress, and shifted your panties to the side. It was a bit silent for a moment, except for Satoru whimpering and moaning, fleshing gripping and fapping away at his wet meaty cock. You knew stood there for more than a minute with your wet drip pussy and ass just patiently waiting for him to fuck. 

And oh boy did your patience pay off when he finally got out of bed, after coming in his flesh light that is, with his cock still standing, his hand down ripping your dress from your body. “And I'm the slut?” He whispered before slapping your ass. 

He spun you around, pushed you up against the door once more, held on to your hips as he dived in for a kiss. Though he was bit pissed off at you, he could never resist the sight of your pretty pussy just patiently waiting to get fucked out by him. 

He wasted no time, kissing and marking you as his own, loving the sounds of you softly moaning throughout the kiss as his hands slowly worked to get rid of your panties. There was a need for any sort of prep on his end. His cock already did an excellent job, stretching you out earlier. 

He successfully ripped off your undies, and you quickly lifted on leg and rested it just a little but above his waist, arching your back just waiting and ready for him to slide in. 

He never hesitated, and with practise movements, he was able to slip his cock into you hole, slamming deeply into your g-spot, kissing and drinking up all your moans from the sudden impact. 

“Fuck and I'm the slut… I wonder what they would say about you baby momma,” he whispered, as he began, pounding mercilessly into your hole, his balls slapping up against your ass with each thrust. 

“Ugh! Ugh! FUCK fu… Toru… ngh ha! Ha!” You cried incoherently, hands quickly wrapping around his neck, your lips still pressed against his. He quickly held onto the leg that was already on his waist before tapping the other leg signalling that you need to raise it up for just and bit and you did. 

“Who's the slut now? Begging her baby daddy to fuck her hmmm? He teased you. 

“Fuck… fuck you!” You managed to blurt out, feeling the force, girth and swelling of his cock penetrated you, the moment he lifted both your legs and slammed you down on his cock.

“That's exactly what I'm going to do. FUCK THE HELL OUT OF YOU TONIGHT! But keep it down, our son is sleeping, yeah.”