#and to really drive home the point that whatever the fuck is going on between Buck and Eddie IT AIN'T FRIENDSHIP

[see-arcane]

Do you think a Carmilla adaptation set in the modern day could hypothetically work? I know that outside of the web series (which was doing its own thing) the ones that try to go for a more contemporary setting haven't been particularly good.

I guess the biggest hurdle with that would be coming up with a way for Millie to hang around at Laura's place because faking a car crash or something would just lead to her dad calling an ambulance.

The thing that made Carmilla's stranding with Laura and her household was a very particular set of environmental needs.

The household must be in a remote area, far from heavy human population. A small community is still needed for Carmilla to eventually feed on, but nothing very peopled or close.

Carmilla's crew needs to be convincing and non-suspicious when leaving Carmilla behind with strangers as they themselves move on for an ongoing period. They do this with zero contact made between them and Laura's dad, and with no names to investigate.

While extremely tricky, these factors aren't impossible to play with.

First, remoteness. A remoteness without the modern ability to, say, drive an ailing girl to aid or contact emergency services, et cetera. This location has to be in deep countryside or wilderness. Could be a home or a vacation place, assuming we're keeping Laura's dad well-off. Regardless, it's a spot chosen for its privacy and distance from people. I'd lean toward mountainous terrain for dual points of beauty and being just Real fucking difficult to maneuver on.

Next, "Why are you ditching your daughter with us??" This is the hardest bit in the 21st century. Everyone is plugged in. Everyone demands contact info. You couldn't bullshit a single survivalist hermit living in a cave into believing that you know not what these cellular devices are, good sir. You don't just show up in the middle of the night, chuck an adolescent at the porch and run. No, not even with theatre quality con job carriage/car crashes. Because emergency services are a thing and people would be on the phone/piling her in another, non-busted vehicle to get her to a hospital before you could finish acting out your script.

We need to pile up more elements.

Say, one involving inhospitable weather. Flash flood rain. A burying snowstorm that makes even a helicopter too dangerous to fly. Something that obstructs all travel and, ideally, really does crap out the phone and Internet service.

My thought: It shifts to a story taking place in winter, on a mountainside, with Carmilla no longer a poor ailing damsel act, but a simple visitor from some fancy holiday lodge. She and her family are vacationing up here and she is so terribly bored. Might she make friends ;) with Laura in the meantime? But what's this! Oh no! A snowstorm has dropped in and she can't possibly repeat her trek back home in such weather.

A crackling phone call is staged between her and her 'family' as it comes across in sputters and static that yes, yes, she's safe, Laura's dad insists, it's all fine, she can stay until conditions improve. The phone cuts out (from the family's side) and the Internet goes down. Cue the conditions being The Shining-level isolating. The girls make the best of it, of course. <3

Until the bodies start piling up.

ANYWAY

It wouldn't be the exact premise, no, because an exact translation of almost any period piece lit story can't be replicated in a modern era. Too much has changed, too many obstructions sit between the original story and its payoff. All that can be kept is the core of the narrative and whatever factors can either be translated or built upon to make the main ideas still function.

[greenbergsays]

Remember when Chimney packed up his infant daughter and left the 118 to go find Maddie and no one knew if or when he was coming back, and his best friend and longtime work partner who never even attempted to co-parent his child just gave him a big hug and smiled a little bit sadly and wished him luck, no muss no fuss?

MEANWHILE, freak4freak over there

[girl-lostconnection]

Little continuation to this because I can’t help it

Seal Soap that gets along with seal Reader better than anyone else: better than Price, better than Kyle, better than Ghost.

Drives the latter one a little mad that his boy is so fucking whipped.

That his boy can’t help but stick with you and smooch you like there is no tomorrow. Like that’s a perfectly regular thing to do.

And while Kyle (who came back flustered and smitten) tried to explain the delicacies of seal to seal communications, Simon doesn’t fucking buy it. There is no such thing as wordless communication, there are scents of course, there are signals and sounds. But completely silent talk initiated by kisses? No, that’s bullshit if you ask him.

Unfortunately, no one fucking does.

Johnny walks you to breakfast and lunch and dinner. Johnny jogs to yours side as soon as you enter the gym, Johnny rolls over so you can have a spot next to him when he’s sunbathing (and bastard never rolls over, he’s greedy fuck who doesn’t like sharing his warm sunny place).

Johnny twitches his upper lip to show off sharp teeth when someone else gets too close to you, guarding new seal on his team like a bloody treasure.

And you don’t seem to mind all the attention.

No, you hum pleased when Soap shares his fish with you, you give him back scratches and quietly groom him in the rec room, you share parcels from home with him.

Simon doesn’t like that you get so quickly acquainted with his boy. Simon doesn’t like that you seem not interested much in whether or not he likes things.

Simon is used to be the biggest meanest dog in the compound, but when he presses you don’t back down and don’t cower. Seems like he isn’t the biggest one anymore.

You smile at him, sharp points of your teeth peeking from under your upper lip but your eyes are cool and it takes him every ounce of willpower not to growl in your face.

Slippery fucking seal, he hates that he doesn’t have grounds for being a bigger dick to you than he already is.

He hates that both Kyle and Johnny seem to disapprove that.

But you aren’t going anywhere.

You chuckle when Gaz shows off his sharpshooting skills, you patiently watch their eagle’s training routine and offer to spot him. You pretend not to notice the way sergeant Garrick stares unblinking at the sliver of skin that shows when you stretch your hands above your head and your T-shirt rides up a little.

You kiss Soap whenever and wherever you feel like, not paying any mind whether or not someone might see it.

You press a short smooch to Soap’s lips during the drills and missions — getting returned one as quickly as yours was given, because Johnny is whipped and “it helps to calm the nerves”. Because apparently you can’t just communicate with words like the rest of them and need to have this secret third thing.

You catch Johnny’s lips routinely, biting his lower lip, rubbing against his stubble like it really can give you some information that you can’t get otherwise. You kiss him after swimming, getting salt off his lips, getting his spirits so high a little more and sergeant is gonna become a bloody kite.

You cup Johnny’s face and press your lips to his — slow and gentle, tongue already sliding between his lips, Soap’s hands holding onto your hips — fingers sinking into the fatty tissue of your ass. It’s not rushed in the slightest, your cool lips meeting his, Soap thumbing the dimples on your lower back so you arch into him. So he has a “just” reason to get handfuls of your ass.

Simon accidentally walks in onto one of these sessions and like a bloody creeper stays in the shadowed corner because the two of you seem a bit preoccupied with whatever “conversation” you have been having.

But to give you two your due — the make out session is indeed silent. There are no whispers, no exchanged sweet nothings, no secret confessions. Nothing.

Like you two can actually talk like that.

Like it is an actual thing.

Simon doesn’t want to admit that it unnerves him ever more. A fling, a moment of passion added to urge to mess with the team he could understand. This? Whatever this is, he can’t. He doesn’t know how.

There is a quiet soft intimacy in the way you hold each other, in the way your kiss seems never ending, in the way you two break it only to rub cheeks or noses. It’s intimacy Ghost hasn’t seen before and he doesn’t know what to make of it.

Not like he can ask, right?

Simon leaves as quietly as he came, trying to mull it over, trying to come up with something — anything — that would fill in the gaps he can feel under his ribs.

He is all heavy bulk and heavy boots and heavy glares, but it doesn’t seem to phase you when you finally corner him in the gym.

Eyes so calm it drives him up the wall, eyes so gentle he feels like wrestling you to the floor so you finally get the point and stay the fuck away from him.

But you just angle his face to you and tap the hem of his mask silently. Eyes calm and chest pressing into his, pressing him into the wall so he can’t run and hide. Slippery fucking seal, he should teach you some fucking manners so you don’t get too cocky around your superiors.

And maybe if you said a single thing he’d push you away. Maybe if you asked him for something, he’d bristle and growl and sneer. But you don’t so Simon is not sure what to make of it.

He just pulls balaclava just above his lips, scar crossing them, part of his upper lip gnarly ugly thing that healed a little too high and left him with perpetual snarl. It’s not pretty.

He isn’t pretty.

Not like Johnny with his shiny eyes and wide smiles, not like Kyle with his full lips and proud slope of the nose.

He knows he isn’t pretty but the wolf in him still gets ready to snap jaws on your neck the moment you mention it. Simon knows he is nothing special, he’d rather a pretty seal didn’t comment on his appearances.

You don’t know his story and he prefers it stays that way.

The feel of cool fingers on his jaw snaps Ghost out of it, your eyes still calm and endless, your breathing ghosting over his lips — you are close enough to drink into his every breath. Close enough to taste desperation rolling off him in waves.

Close enough for him to get handfuls of your ass and pull you flush against him.

Got you, slippery seal. He caught you. He won.

But you don’t seem to mind it, your nose just pressing to his cheek — slowly, like you aren’t sure how much you can do before Simon loses his mind and either mounts or mauls you right on the floor of this gym.

Simon isn’t sure himself what he’d like to do more.

Your breathing on his cheek is feather-soft when you gently rub on his stubble. The same way you did with Johnny just a few days prior. The seal greeting you two do tirelessly.

Ghost hums quietly and tilts his head to the side, so you can reach better, his hands no longer gripping but slowly groping your bum now. Like he is finally letting himself savor it without the fear of your slipping right through his fingers.

There is a beat after which you finally press your lips to his, catching them like he’s an old friend you are happy to see — your tongue asking for permission like Simon isn’t pushing his in your mouth the moment you kissed him.

Simon is all hunger and sharp teeth and heavy glares, but you kiss him and he melts. You open the soft wet heat of your mouth and be pushes his tongue inside, finally tasting for himself salt on your tongue and points of your canines and the gurgly needy sounds your throat makes when he devours your mouth.

When his fingers get to underside of your ass and inner side of your thighs.

Slippery seal, don’t you know that he is the biggest meanest dog in this compound?

But your palms slide under waist of his pants, your nails digging into his lower back so he can’t help but arch into you.

Well, not anymore, he is not.

Ghost grins in your mouth and licks the grin off the tips of your teeth, hoping to poke himself too hard and finally bleed in the chatty mouth of yours.

Seal to wolf communication, eh? That’s something he can understand.

That’s something he’d like to become proficient in.

The next time you press a kiss to Johnny’s lips is during brief and no one spares you a second glance.

By this point, it’s a routine and you two never lose too much time doing this so if seals need to communicate, the rest are going to leave you to it.

Only this time you don’t limit yourself with just Johnny, reaching out to Simon right after — pulling him in by the scruff of his neck and giving him a short smooch as well. Like it’s a completely normal thing too.

Price pauses mid sentence, giving you a long unreadable stare before finally arching his brow, thick cigar between his lips heating up when he pulls air in.

Komodo dragons thrive on hierarchy and you are starting to push it. Thin ice there.

“Seal to wolf communication, sir.”, your grin is wide enough to show off tips of your canines, eyes crinkling when Kyle looks at Ghost with the look of utter betrayal on his face.

Yeah, you will need to come up with something to sweeten it for pretty eagle sergeant as well.

“Didn’t know it was a thing. Can he talk with seals too?”, Price looks utterly unimpressed, eyes heavy with something you can’t quite make out.

“No, sir.”, the answer is as honest as they get, your grin only widening when Ghost slowly licks his lips, lieutenant’s eyes heavy in a way that unrolls a sweet aching in your belly.

Big mean bastard he is. Big bad wolf.

“But he can feel the vibes. Right, L.T.?”, you turn to him and Simon tilts his head to the side, his tail wagging behind him, his tail smacking your thigh every time it moves.

Price looks at Ghost with the look of exasperated parent but lieutenant seems to be finally content with the way things are.

Lieutenant finally doesn’t mind the seal to seal communication.

Not when he has his own now.

Big bad wolf just wanted to be included, didn’t he?

“Yeah. I sure can.”, he finally huffs out and leans on you, corner of his lips twitching when you have to steady yourself not to tip over. Big mean bastard.

Simon tilts his head to the side, like never before reminding you of his animal side — deep seated eyes of his glimmering from underneath the dark hover of his brows.

“Though I feel like the first check was too hasty”, he muses words slowly, syllables rolling on his tongue, accent thickening. There is laughter simmering on the bottom of his irises, the heated sort of fun.

“Mind givin’ it another go, luv?”

Next one>>

[rafesangelita]

rafe + cnc

warnings: consent no consent (read at your own discretion), dom!rafe and bambi!reader who reenact a kidnapping, roleplay, brief mention of stalking, reader is tied up the whole time, unprotected sex, rough sex, degradation (just a lil), rafe and reader break character towards the end

a/n: got the kidnapping idea after i watched buffalo ‘66, pls tell me someone has seen that scene </3

the sun was beaming down on you, your babydoll dress swaying in the light breeze as you walked along the dirt road, twirling the ends of your hair as you did so. turning around at the sound of a vehicle approaching, you watched as the window rolled down, revealing a stranger that wore an unnerving smile.

“are you lost?” his eyes trailed down your legs, making a shiver run down your spine. “uhm, not really i-” he opened the door, “a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be roaming around all by herself.” your breath hitched when the stranger stepped out of his truck. “don’t look so scared, i just wanna help you.”

you stepped back, letting out a scream when he lunged at you, his hand clamping over your mouth as he pulled you against his chest. “shhh, shhh, it’s okay, i’m only gonna rough you up a little bit.” you whimpered, feeling helpless as ever as he dragged you over to his truck, grabbing a worn out rope before tying your hands behind your back.

“where are you taking me?!” tears were running down your cheeks now, your hair disheveled as he slammed the door shut. “don’t you worry about that.” your heart was pounding in your ears, your vision blurry with tears you weren’t able to wipe. it wasn’t until he pulled off of the road, driving towards a sketchy looking shed that you started to kick the back of his seat.

“hey! don’t make me change my mind about going easy on you.” his words made your stomach plummet, your blood running cold once he parked in the middle of nowhere. “no, no, no, no, no..” you whispered as he got down, flashing you a smirk before opening the door closest to you. “no, please! i’ll do whatever you want!” you cried out, wincing when you felt the rope burn against your skin.

he laughed. “of course you are.” he cursed under his breath when your foot landed square against his chest. “still kickin’ huh? should i tie your ankles too?” the man yanked you up by your hair, almost making you lose your footing. “please, i’m begging..” he ignored your pleas, pushing you inside the wooden shed before turning on a single bulb light that hung from the ceiling.

“you already pissed me off.” he circled around you like you were prey, grabbing another rope from a nearby table. “lay down.” you stayed still, your chest rising and falling with each breath. the stranger’s jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring as he laughed bitterly. “okay..” he forcefully got you on the ground, a whimper sounding from your mouth, “since you want to make this hard for me, you leave me with no choice.” you gasped when he bent you over, forcing your ankles to cross one over the other.

he took his shirt off, balling it up and placing it under your head. “i could be an asshole and shove your face in the dirt, but i’ll be nice.” your body jolted when his hand slammed down on your ass, the force of it making your flesh sting. “don’t do this, please, i don’t want it..” you screwed your eyes shut at the sound of his belt unbuckling. he grabbed your dress from the back, pulling it hard, making it rip all the way down to the hem.

you had given up at this point, staring blankly at the ground as he roughly moved your underwear to the side. “fuck.” he hissed, running a finger between your folds. “and to think.. this pretty pussy was right in front of me all along. i knew you were perfect when i started following you home.” you shivered at the revelation, swallowing thickly as you felt him line himself up with your entrance.

he didn’t waste another second, thrusting into you with a groan. “oh, my god.” he drawled out, fingers digging into your hips. you couldn’t help the whine from leaving your lips, your walls fluttering around the intrusion. “you’re so fucking wet, ‘just slid right in.” you shuddered, the head of his cock hitting that sensitive spot that made you mewl delightfully.

“you like this, don’t you? you’re taking it so fucking good.” he grabbed the base of your neck, pulling you up so your back was flush against his chest. “stop.. stop..” you muttered, still trying to resist him even though your body was giving in to every one of his ministrations. his hand snaked down your body, your eyes rolling back once he started working your clit.

“you want me to stop?” his lips were next to your ear, the tone of his voice taunting. you stayed quiet, eliciting a laugh from him. “that’s what i thought.” he shook his head, pushing you down into the ground again. his thrusts were nothing short of sporadic, your mouth hanging open as he fucked into you mercilessly. “oh, yeah, you’re going to cum soon aren’t you, you fucking slut,” he slapped your ass again.

it wasn’t long before you found yourself moving your hips against his, chasing his cock so you could cum. “oh, fuck!” you squeaked, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. with both of your hands still restrained, you laid helpless as the man brought you to your orgasm, a sob erupting from your throat. “rafe!” you couldn’t hold in your cries, your boyfriend rubbing your skin soothingly as your thighs shook. “keep going for me, baby, you’re doing so fucking good.” he nearly whimpered.

you were sure he was going to leave marks with how hard he was gripping your waist, rafe doubling over on top of you. “i’m gonna cum, holy fuck i’m gonna fill you up, baby.” you squeezed around him, the death grip on his cock making him fall over the edge. your knees ached from being on them for so long, a thin sheen of sweat making your body glow with the small streaks of sunlight peeking through the wood.

rafe stared gloriously at where you two were connected, his jaw slack as he watched his cum spill out of your soaked cunt. “shit,” he felt like he was going to pass out, your pussy still sucking him in like a vice. you were only able to make little noises, your eyes half closed as you went through the aftershocks of your orgasm. rafe continued to thrust into you with long, slow, strokes, the action helping both of you come down from your highs.

it wasn’t until you felt him untying the ropes around your wrists, that you sighed in relief, your boyfriend immediately leaning down to check on you. “baby, you alright?” he moved your hair out of your face, meeting your shiny gaze. you fell flat on you tummy, flashing him an exhausted smile. “you did amazing.” he pecked your lips, leaving the shed before coming back with a different change of clothes.

“let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

[kabr0ztrousers]

Hiii :)))

I’ve been reading your work for a while now and its. so. fricken. good. 🥵🔥🔥 Seriously, you’re great at writing! Love! Also I have a request for you, I know you have a few on the docket but I wanted to send you one for whenever you have time/if you like it! It took me a bit to decide to send one (i was shy..) Anyway

I have sooo enjoyed your minotaur stories and I love the idea of the minotaur farm. I was thinking f/human + m/minotaur. She applies to work at the farm having a secret lust for the beasts and wanting to become a breeder (she doesn’t end up getting hired as one) BUT obvi she ends up getting bred secretly without her bosses knowing 👀 Some edging/orgasm denial and definitely him dominating the hell out of her!! Also knotting and him being in heat would be so hot… Thanks for taking the time to read this!! Again love your work xx

(hopefully will be submitting again so if the 🪽 emoji isn’t taken yet, just know that’s me!) thanks!!! 🖤❤️‍🔥🖤

Hopefully this is the same 🪽 anon I gave that emoji to before, because I saw that ask before this one!

Kabr0z Writes episode 57: Ranch-hand

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: group sex; sharing; mmmf; giving fellatio, including throatfucking; masochism; service top; creampie; size difference; edging; squirting; unprepared anal; hucow mention; alcohol use; coerced alcohol use (kinda); alcohol intox; hair pulling; impact play

A/N: I skirted the line a little here with the CWs, the POV character goes to the location to get aggressively fucked, and I tried to communicate her getting off on hair pulling and impact play, even going so far as to help the first minotaur along. On the other hand, I'm not sure if that'll cross lines for people so that's why you're getting spoiled in the a/n - it's still real good though and I hope you enjoy

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

You'd first applied for a job as a cow. You knew the ranch kept human livestock, they weren't the most subtle about it, and you'd had more than enough of the office 9-5. Of course, you didn't get the job. It's not a job you apply for, and it's definitely not something you'd find on anyone's CV.

Whatever. You'd gotten over it and quit your shitty desk job anyway. Who knows, you might be able to make a living selling pictures of your feet. Your phone pinged. An withheld number texted you. No name, just a time and the address of the farm. What did you have to lose?

You knew the way already. The minotaurs who ran the place seemed not to understand the concept of aerial photography, so allowed the women to graze, stark naked, on the field away from the road. Sure, you can't see it as you drive by, but if you know what to look for it really stands out on the LandSat data. The drive wasn't even far, though it's a little strange to be wearing so little on the way. You'd decided to only wear a skimpy nightgown, so your bare legs were sticking to the faux leather seats of your car, to say nothing of the snail trail coming from your slit. It's funny, if you're right, you're going to a life somewhere between monastic ascetic and sexed-up hedonist. Despite hoping to never see your clothes again, you'd still dressed in something you wouldn't care if it got ruined.

You turned off the main road. It's still about a mile of field until the farmhouse, but the road here isn't paved. Your tiny Vauxhall bounced up the path, snaking up switchbacks until halfway up the hill you arrived.

The house isn't large. Despite the three minotaurs living there and working the ranch, the building was about as large as your home (former home) and you wondered how they managed it.

You opened the door of your car. The cold predawn air made your nipples stand on end, pointing out of the almost-translucent fabric of your nightie as you walked barefoot to the door and knocked.

No answer.

Not even a peep. You wished you'd brought your phone to check the text, but knew better than to take a tracker with you to get semi-kidnapped into an illegal fuck-slave ring. That just seemed like a no-brainer. You knocked again.

Still nothing.

You tried the handle.

It opened. You stepped in, the front door went to a vestibule where you wiped your muddy feet before going further into the house.

Now the living room. A couple of well-worn sofas, a pile of beer cans in one corner and the remains of a takeaway littering the coffee table. The kitchen looked to be in a similar state, empty bottles of vodka and other cheap spirits on the counter, the fridge door ajar.

Someone had a good night

You padded up the stairs. The warmth of the house causing your goosebumps to settle down, but your nipples still stood out as you explored the house.

Four doors at the top of the stairs, the bedrooms and the bathroom, each opening onto the windowless landing. You picked at random. Snoring echoed through the upper floor, these minotaurs weren't light sleepers, especially after putting away enough booze to hospitalise a baseline human. You pushed the door, the latch clicking lightly as it opened and the smell of liquor hit you. The minotaur lay in his bed, mostly naked, still clutching a bottle of supermarket-brand whiskey.

You turned, meaning to leave the tiny bedroom, mostly filled with bovine beefcake. A hand grabbed your face. The smell of the liquor and last night's curry filled your nostrils.

"What you doing here?"

"Mmmmph!" You tried to speak through the hand over your mouth, but couldn't make a sound.

The minotaur pulled you into the dark room and forced you back onto his bed. The neck of the whisky bottle was at your face. The hand over your mouth moved, you opened and he poured the cheap spirit into your mouth. Great gulps went down your throat as the rest covered your face. The smell of the alcohol filled your senses, drowning out the smell of the man gripping your face. Your head started to spin as the alcohol hit you, filling you with warmth.

Even semi-hungover, he looked good, and this is why you came here, after all.

You were staring at each other. He looked puzzled. His thumb was next to your mouth. You opened a little wider, letting it slip in as you angled your head to suck on it, tasting the warm liquid on it. Slowly, he was getting the message as you held his hand to your cheek and slid off the bed onto the floor.

You yanked off his boxers, leaving him totally naked in front of you as you knelt on the pile of clothes next to his bed. You looked at his sheath, using one hand to rub it, marvelling as the flared head of his cock rose from it.

You licked the end, kissing it and rubbing your face on it. The hand on your face had softened already, feeling you rather than holding. That wouldn't do. You took his hand gently and put it on the back of your head, curling his fingers into your hair as you bobbed your head. His fist tightened, you felt your cunt twitch as he pulled on your hair.

You took his cock deeper in your mouth. You needed to encourage him a little, but he was pushing you down on it now. You helped him push himself past your throat barrier, forcing the thick cock down past your tonsils, feeling the flare pop in, out, in, out.

One hand juggled his balls, each one the size of a duck egg, the other slipped up your nightgown, one slender finger teasing your leaking hole.

You could hear him groaning, the sound mixing with your lewd slurping and moaning.

A hand banged on the door

"Jim! Turn off the sound! Fuck sake!"

"S'not a video" your minotaur groaned out

"The fuck?" The door opened. Another minotaur stood in the door, looking down at you

You saw him grin. He slipped off his sweatpants and started grasping his sheath, the cock rising in his hand.

They lifted you to the bed. Jim sat in front of you, his cock in front of you, glistening with slime from your throat, a strand of your spittle linking the twitching end with your lips. The other cock was behind you, pressing gently against your cunt. Your arms were being held behind your back, one huge hand keeping both wrists in place. You let your tongue dangle, eyes locked with the minotaur in front of you as both his hands gripped your hair.

The cock behind you sank in. Your eyes crossed

"Oh, yes, give it to me" you moaned

Neither of the minotaurs held back. The one behind you hilted himself in you as your throat was filled again. Every inch of his cock was being used, pulling almost out of your pussy before that flared end slammed back down into you, his hips hitting yours and hammering your face another inch down his brother's cock. Again and again, he pushed you forwards, each time the cock got deeper down your throat. Your eyes watered, the alcohol was keeping your gag reflex down, but he still hurt going this deep. You could feel it in your cunt, oceans of wetness lubricating the cock claiming your nethers. You felt yourself starting to clench, to twitch. You rode his cock even as he abused your hole. You're nearly there...

He pulled out. Your cunt clenched against nothing, the throbbing ache running down your legs and up your belly. Your hands were still pinned to the small of your back as the cock in your throat started to pulse. The one behind you slapped your ass before stuffing three fingers into your cunt, twisting them, massaging your hole as his brother spurted hot, thick, salty cum down your throat. There was so much, if it wasn't for the wide flare sealing your throat off you could feel it would be squirting out of your nose. As it was, you swallowed it down. Your swallows pulled him in further, your body trying to force the foreign object down. He pulled out instead, flare popping out of your mouth as he rubbed the blunt end of his cock on your face, mixing his cum in with your throat slime and tears.

"Gonna take a shower. Give Jack a turn" Jim left the room, sidling past his brother as he kept sliding his fingers in you

"You'd like that, huh? Have all three?" He snarled at you, thumb brushing against your clit

"Please?" You're still drunk, you just wanted to cum all over this beast behind you

"All right then" he snatched his hand away from your cunt, wrapping it around your torso and listed you so you faced him. Your tits pressed on his front as you held on. His cock was at your open cunt. You tried to push it in, but he held it just at the entrance. You rubbed against the tip as he walked to the end of the hall

"Jack! Got a surprise!"

"Fuck off, John!"

John pushed the door open with his back. You saw the last minotaur on the bed. He saw you too

"So that fuckmeat came after all"

"You know this bitch?" John sounded amused, using one hand to slap your ass again as the other pinned you to him "I just thought Jim pulled somehow"

"Yeah, she's a wannabe cow" Jack grabbed a handful of your hair. You whined as he pulled it

"Fuck, if only there was more of her..." His cock was at your asshole now, next to his brother's still grazing the entrance of your cunt "real painslut, aren't you?"

You nodded

He pushed.

Your asshole clenched as the cock forced its way in. John pressed you down, his cock impaling your cunt as the other barged into your unprepared asshole.

The tip slipped in. John fucking you was spreading your juices onto his brother's cock. It wasn't enough to stop it hurting as he forced it up you, but it helped.

Both cocks rubbed against each other, you felt them inside you, driving up as you fell down. The men sandwiched you, keeping you upright, stretched out and stuck on them, legs dangling off the floor as they fucked themselves with you.

Your head spun. The cock in your ass didn't hurt any more, or it did, but it was getting you off so you didn't care. Your moans and whines filled your head, getting closer to the edge as they rutted into you.

"What? You wanna cum" John growled into your ear

"Yes" you whined

"Yes what?"

"Yes, sir"

"You gonna be our cumrag?"

"Yes sir"

"Ok then, you can cum"

John grabbed one of your arms, pushing your hand between you and him. Your fingers rubbed your clit. Your eyes streamed as you wailed into his shoulder, cunt squirting onto the floor.

Both of your abused holes clenched and pulsed, the force of your finish milking the beasts as they railed you.

John came first, his cock hardening even more in you as he buried it, hot cum streaming out into your womb as you held each others bodies. You felt Jack slam his hips into your asscheeks, squeezing your hips as his flare expanded in you, seed pumping into your rear.

Both men held you there, enjoying the three-way embrace as they softened in you.

The shower came free, they let you go first on one condition:

You'd move in with them, to do this again and again

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

I just realised that if I catch up on Sunday, then that'll be early March... The question is, do I move to Volume 2 on Saturday with the calendar month, or at 60 episodes?

Doesn't make a difference to the day-to-day pornographing, only the contents pages, but it's a decision I wasn't anticipating...

[winniethewife]

Winnie! I come to you humbly requesting a fic.

So imagine: Reader gets sent into the woods as sacrifice for the local cryptid. Cue Cryptid!Vessel looking at the terrified reader like 'fuck did they send in another virgin as sacrifice? urgh'

He tries to calm reader down and explain that whatever the townsfolk said is not accurate. 'I'm sure you're lovely but I don't really need a sacrifice. So let me tell you how this is gonna work'

Meanwhile idk reader is getting kinda into the idea of being sacrificed to Vessel because you know 👀

Ignite our dreams of starry skies

(Creature!Vessel x Gn!Reader)

A/N: Thank you Fran for the ask that inspired this endeavor and for Beta reading this whole creature feature (Featuring the creature)! This has been a labor of love and I hope you all enjoy it!!

As Always if you want to hear me shout into the void about this band (And others) Please follow me over at @lyricallymelodic  

CW: Vessel is so sad, Wet cat/creature Vessel, Slight monster body horror, Angst

Disclaimer: All fan fic written by me for this fandom is based on a fictional depiction of the personas of the band members, no real people were perceived in the making of this fiction.  

Ao3 link

Part 1: Summer: True beauty lies on the blue horizon

Next Chapter

Words:1607

They stood at the edge of the forest, dressed in the simple garb of the Sacrifice, a tradition going back hundreds of years in their village. In front of them was the forest, to the side the sea. No one was sure where the creature had come from. Some said that he had always dwelled in the forest, others said he had originally been an angel who betrayed his god and been cast down upon the earth cursed to remain in the forest forever. They had always guessed it was something in between, or something entirely different, but they hadn’t given it much thought. Now they stood in the clearing next to the cliffs and the sand dunes where they had once played as a child, never getting too close to the forest as their parents had warned.

But none of that mattered now. They were chosen as the Sacrifice by the Oracle to appease the creature of the forest. They took a deep breath, glancing one last time at the village behind them, the place they had grown up in, the place they had called home, where they will likely never return. Blinking away the tears in their eyes they began down the path into the forest. As the forest grew denser and the path less easy to navigate they knew they were likely reaching the meeting point. The late summer breeze blew by them, bringing the scents of the sea into the forest. Their gaze never left the way in front of them even as they felt the gaze of something entirely inhuman on them. They didn’t want to seem afraid, even though their heart was racing and tears flowed freely from their eyes. A twig snapped behind them and they froze as they heard a deep voice mutter something in a language unknown to them. The creature. It had to be. But why was the voice so…human?

“Are you lost? Or were you sent?” The voice asked, surprisingly softly, and even more shockingly in the native language of the village folk.

“I-I was sent.” They stuttered, still afraid to turn and look. The voice said something softly in that same odd language.

“I’m…Sorry, I don’t know why He keeps doing this.” The voice was remorseful, the tone of his words a mix of annoyance and sadness. The creature hesitated, almost like it was waiting for them to make the next move, which was unlike the tales that were told in the village, the stories of the manipulative and seductive creature of darkness that would leap at the opportunity for a sacrifice. The chance to dine on the flesh of a human was said to drive it wild. However that seemed far from the case.

“Who is doing what?” They asked carefully, taking a step to the side, considering their options: Turn and face the creature or run for their life. They wanted to know more before they decided what to do.

“Sleep, an ancient deity who I serve. He is the one who sends your Oracle visions.” The voice explained, slightly closer now. They felt an irresistible urge to look at the creature now, unsure if it was a feeling from within themselves or the silent call of the forest creature itself. They took a breath and looked upon the creature; their eyes widened in awe.

It was tall. He was tall? Six glowing eyes stared back at them, bright red irises in the center set of dark sclera, reminding them of drops of blood on the slate floor of their family home. The two vestigial eyes lacked a true iris but glowed eerily, like a lantern light shining through a curtain. His skin, as dark as the night, was covered in scars and dark red markings. Their eyes were particularly drawn to the scarring on his neck; each side had a set of three ridges, like that of the gills of an aquatic creature. He wore a hooded cloak and some trousers. Both seemed to be handmade, tattered and old. He tilted his head to the side as they examined him closely, trying to analyze their expression.

“You seem less afraid, now that you see me. That’s… atypical. ” The creature took a step closer, exposing more of himself to them: What they had thought to be branches of the tree above him were actually very large and beautiful antlers. A sun beam shone down on him, illuminating his face, and bringing into focus his features; intricate red markings over his cheeks and down his jaw. They recognized the bind rune drawn over his forehead and eyes. It was the same rune they had seen many times throughout their life, the symbol the Oracle used to reference the creature, whenever they made a sacrifice and completed a ritual in the name of the gods. They felt like they should be afraid, but the fear wasn’t there, they only felt a magnetic pull and a desire to understand.

“Were the others afraid?” they asked softly. The creature nodded.

“Terrified, they became increasingly so the longer they were in my presence.” He spoke softly, his voice was melodic and his accent unlike anything they had heard. They wanted to hear more.

“I see. Do you have a name?” They asked the first question that came to mind, something they wanted to know but felt ill-timed. Was there an order to the last conversation you ever expected to have?

“You… you want to know my name?” He looked surprised, had he ever been asked for his name? He couldn’t remember a time this had happened.

“My life is in your hands, it feels only right to know your name.” They spoke softly, but their words stung his ears. Despite their lack of fear they still assumed that he was going to hurt them. 

“I…my name is Vessel. Or at least that is what I have been called for a long time.” He hesitated. “Your life isn’t in danger, at least not by my hand. As I said before, I don’t understand why Sleep keeps telling your seer that I require a sacrifice of this or any nature. I have not desired such a thing.” He sounded annoyed, but his eyes were filled with immeasurable sorrow, his gaze leaving them for the first time since they had turned to look at him.

“Oh…what happened to the others then? They never returned to the village.” They asked with hesitant curiosity.

“The forest is treacherous and confusing to those who don’t know its secrets. I have never hurt anyone who entered the forest, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t die here.” His voice was tinged with regret. “I wanted to help them, maybe guide them home, but… it’s been a long time since any human has taken the time to speak with me.”

“How long is a long time?” they asked, unconsciously moving closer to him.

“Half a century at least.” Vessel guessed. It could have been longer; time wasn’t exactly something he thought about a lot. It felt irrelevant when you’ve been cursed to spend eternity unable to sleep, unable to die, unable to keep those who mean most to you. Vessel tried to shake the thoughts from his mind. It didn’t do any good to dwell on the past, or those he had left behind. “Do you wish for me to help you return to your home?”

“Wouldn’t that mean you’d be alone again?” They asked, showing an amount of concern that Vessel was not used to. Did they want to stay? Why would they want to stay?

“Yes, but I’m used to being alone.” He replied. He watched their face in fascination, the way they showed their emotions so plainly on their face. He wondered if his face still showed emotion, or had the mask he donned so long ago solidified his expression for life. They looked sad and concerned by what he said.

“But do you like being alone?’ They asked, tilting their head to the side slightly as they observed him, examining his face in the light, subtly moving closer to him, drawn to his presence in an unexplainable way. They wanted to stay closer, like an instinctual need to be near him. Vessel felt a familiar sense of dread in his chest. He couldn’t get attached again, he couldn’t deal with the loss again.

“You shouldn’t stay. It’s too dangerous.” He muttered looking away from them and focusing on something in the distance. He was sure that's all it would take to make them turn back. He had made it this long without a constant companion, surely he does not need someone now. He had long decided that he was meant to spend this lifetime alone. He focused on the treeline for a moment longer, giving them ample time to leave as they inevitably would. When he looked back he was genuinely surprised to see they had remained exactly where they had been before. They hadn’t run away, they hadn’t given up.

“You didn’t answer my question.” They stated simply. Vessel wondered if they meant the question that they had spoken out loud or the question they were really asking: Can I stay with you?  He sighed and mulled over the possibilities for a moment.

“A year…for one year you can stay. When next summer comes to an end I will show you how to return to your village and we will make a choice then.” He spoke in a low tone. He usually wasn’t one for making deals of any kind but he had to admit: He didn’t really like being alone.

~

Masterlist

Taglist: @silvernight-m @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @stellasplendens @ierofrnkk

[cloveroctobers]

CUT TIES — Terry Richmond [Fall Crumbles] 🤎

A/N: There’s enough Terry to go around right? This is inspired by two things…OFC a song + taking another chance at writing something influenced by Love is Blind. Who saw that wasteful reunion?! Anyways that is what this is so get ready for angst.

WARNINGS: Reference to a intimate moment but a line at best?

જ⁀➴ ༄ જ⁀➴ ༄ જ⁀➴ ༄ જ⁀➴ ༄ જ⁀➴ ༄ જ

11:32pm

FROM: T. Richmond

I Need To Hear Your Voice…Can You Call Me?

Was the text message he sent you, which made you let out a long exhale.

11:43pm

TO: T. Richmond

I’m at work T [Deleted] Terry.

11:44pm

FROM: T. Richmond

I’m Aware. I’ll Feel Better When I Hear Your Voice…And I Know You’re Probably Saying That I’ve Got A lot Of Nerve To Say That To You Right Now…Yet This Will Always Be True, No Matter How Things Ended.

You were glad Terry can acknowledge that he did in fact have nerve requesting a call from you, when the both of you already had that final closure conversation weeks ago…however here he was back again, entering your life whenever he pleases.

Picking up your phone, after watching it ring for a while you debated about letting it go to voicemail honestly. You really didn’t need to hear many more angles about whatever situation Terry got fucked over in. Things seemed to be going well lately though, at least that’s what he tried to portray on social media…which was also new for him.

Always the type of man to be lowkey and out the way but after the exposure of being contestants on a certain love show, he stepped out just a little. It was never too much, Terry wasn’t the type of man to be in your face about his blessings but if things went south, then he had no problem stepping to you if common ground couldn’t be located.

“Hey,” He starts, his deep tone sounded as if he was ready to go to sleep, possibly lying down, whereas you were wired on your night shift, “Sorry for bothering you—

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but to let it slip through your lips, “Are you though?”

He hummed, “Nope, can’t say that I am, to be real with you.”

“Well, can’t ever say you failed at honesty.” You replied with a hint of sarcasm which made Terry chuckle humorlessly, “What’s up? What was so important that you needed to be on my hotline right now?”

It was Terry’s turn to roll his natural underlined eyes but he’s not trying to pick a fight or even think about you with someone else, “…the house is too quiet and I couldn’t sleep. The first person I wanted to talk to, to ease the loud silence…is you. I believe that’s how it’s always gon’ be.”

Not long after you called it quits, Terry closed on a house that he’s been eyeing long before he decided to go on the show. It was meant to be if they couldn’t get it sold. He of course talked to you about it once you were out of the pods, saying how some rooms needed Reno and asked your thoughts on if that could be your main home once married. Thankful that you already had your home that you owned at such a young age, You spoke about how much you already invested in your home and how you had no plans of selling just yet even if you two chose to get married.

Which isn’t something that he wanted you to do but questioned how this would work. He wasn’t down with sleeping in separate houses, although Terry knew it would take time to get everything right, the house he bought was livable and he wanted that with you.

Something that Terry always admired about you is, that you had your own mind and drive to do what you felt was best for you. He respected it, had to really learn how to when you said you two needed to put some distance between you after a final argument got too heated.

“…I’m sure you’ll get used to it at some point.”

“I don’t know if I agree with that.”

Terry listened to you sigh.

“I’m going to say something you won’t want to hear but I’m saying it anyway,” you start as you lightly flick your feathered pen back and forth at the desk, “You’re going to have to get comfortable being alone in that house, Terry. I know you’ve been used to being a lone wolf majority of the time…but you officially settled somewhere now and you’re building a life outside of the danger you once knew. Which I’m proud of by the way but you’re going to have to start finding comfort elsewhere or with yourself because I’m not going to provide that to you anymore.”

Terry was afraid that you were going to say this one day. Usually you both were good at having balance when your relationship was solid, giving each other the space needed and showing up when needed. Everything just took a turn once the chaos showed up again at Terry and his cousin, Mike’s business. This was the first time Terry ever lied to you and that came at multiple costs. It blew up in his face because leaving you in the dark and not communicating with his fiancée? led to being stalked and a home invasion that still haunted you.

Terry would always be sorry for that.

From bliss to passion to heat to closure to yearning. It was all stages of what this relationship was, for Terry it was the process of your love story whereas for you, it was part of your origin story.

“What if I say…I’m finding that’s not what I really want?” Terry speaks, “…That I don’t see much of a future without you in it? We talked through that hurdle, we wished each other the best after the reunion but what if that’s not enough for me? What if we’re each other’s best?“

This was another side you predicted would happen. One thing about you is, your mind was always turning just like the earth spinning on its axis. Which took another turn in your argument, speculating things that weren’t true once you found out that Terry lied about some new men targeting him. You predicted that once you both tried to move on and live without each other, the other would crack. It happened before, a month after the reunion when his aunt invited you to her forty-fifth birthday party. Your friends told you not to go and that night made you weak for Terry Richmond.

So weak you couldn’t feel your legs for days, Terry knew your body so well, had no problem burrying himself deep downstairs in his aunt’s basement, green hues trained only on you, while having your legs in the perfect V over his shoulders, and that man was a mountain.

A dangerous one.

Now it was your turn to fully stand on business and the year was coming to a close so you didn’t need Terry to find new ways in.

That was supposed to be understood but you both fumbled that at the party.

You had enough time to figure out what was best. Of course you experienced the what if’s yourself, been as loyal as they came but a structured life of constantly looking over your shoulder was just not it to you. To no longer feel safe with the man you thought you would grow old with. Now you had the world weighing in on what they’ve seen on their tv’s and online—you can handle challenges—you worked as a nurse on the oncology floor, however you have to be smart enough to realize when it was too much and that was enough to walk away.

“At a time we were,” you finally answered before reassuring, “Everything you’re feeling is valid. I hear you. I’ve been there and got through that. You will too.”

Terry’s silence was as potent on the phone as what he probably felt like the inside of his home was. The scratching of the branch that was too close to his bedroom window was similar to the clawing you were doing to his heart. He didn’t want to lose you for good, call him selfish but he didn’t want to just forget the unique connection you built.

Although he felt disrespected with the way you spoke (yelled) to (at) him during your breaking point, he was willing to come back and work through it but ultimately it felt like there was no trust there anymore. Terry did feel like you were looking for a way out because you two were “too” good together, unfortunately this was too big of a situation to come back from.

The stubborn one out of the two, Terry can sense that you already had your mind made up. Two tough conversations were had, one behind the scenes and another for streamers to dissect and formulate their own opinions on, should have been enough but Terry always kept his cards close. You were his most precious one, yet you were telling him how to store it away back into the deck for good.

“Is this really what you want? To fully walk away?”

A hint of annoyance hits you and could be felt as you start, “We went over this—

“So us going two rounds that day meant nothing?”

Sure it did.

“Terry that was goodbye, you had to have known that. The last hurrah. So let me make it clear this time without raising my voice because I know you hate that—and I’ve been working on it—I’m cutting ties.”

Half expecting the line to go dead, you still find yourself holding your breath as the quiet goes deadly silent. Until you hear shuffling on the other end, Terry’s sitting up on the edge of the bed now, feeling a stress headache arrive right on both sides of his temples which then radiate to the back of his neck.

“I don’t want this to come off the wrong way…but I love you. I need you to know that.”

That was obvious but again, sometimes love isn’t enough.

“Don’t do that.”

“What’s that?”

“Trying to find other angles to make this work. We tried after the big argument—that spark isn’t the same and would never be the same.”

Terry huffs, “Maybe we didn’t try hard enough.”

Grasping at straws, was not necessarily in Terry’s nature. He also knew that statement was just not true. Both of you put your hearts on the line and this was something the both of you would have never taken so lightly.

“…don’t let your loneliness overshadow what can’t be managed. We been made our decision but this is me finally enforcing a boundary.” You inhale air through your teeth before continuing, “You are headstrong, very structured and lived a life that I know nothing about if it comes knocking at our door again. What happens if we brought kids into that? It’s not that I don’t believe you couldn’t keep us safe, it’s the fact that our lives would always be at risk even if it’s not something you intentionally brought to the table.”

“We take risks every time we step out the door. That’s what life is,” Terry tried to reason, “I tried to leave the life I lived prior behind me, which is why I like to keep to myself and not open up. You changed that. I know we’ve been over this countless of times…I just don’t know if I’m ready to completely cut the rope. To never have you around is…a scary thought.”

In a minute, it wouldn’t just be a thought.

“It’ll be as if before we met. I’m not saying it’s easy by any means but I’ve accepted the art of letting go. Ending access to each other for real this time, does not automatically mean we never loved each other or there isn’t any more love there. If we fell back into each other, it would be a repeat of all the pieces we wouldn’t want to live with. It’ll be hard to fake and deal with.”

“Deal with?” Terry echoed in a tone that oozed frustration, “I’d be willing to be a team.”

“Then why wasn’t that taken into consideration when those men shot up your business? Or me being stalked by one of those men at work? Then being followed home.” You felt your blood pressure rising at what you thought you forgave—but everything is a process, “Or when Summer and I went out to lunch, just to find out that she knew about the drive by before I did? Or how I almost got ran over on purpose in the parking garage at work? That didn’t feel like team work. I was in the dark when we needed to continue to be a piece of each other’s light from the damn sun rays. Being the last to know often, did not make me feel like a priority. I feel like that part of you, you wanted to shield me from all the time…so now I’m going to be a shield on my terms.”

Terry Richmond never wanted to be responsible for changing the trajectory of someone’s entire life in a negative way. Although you said the love shared wouldn’t just vanish, it did feel like you thought about it and had time to sit on it.

He could make this easy and give you what you wanted, should have and it was once something he actually agreed to. However people change their minds all the time and he never saw himself falling out of love with you.

It wasn’t about being trained, it was about being in love.

He clears his throat, “I had no intentions on making this conversation out to be difficult…I knew I’d get push back, it’s one of the things I love about you,” Terry says, “I just wanted to let you know that I miss you, that your voice is actually what makes me feel safe and probably always will. And that I hope I’d get the chance to love you more in every lifetime. That was part of what I wrote to you in our vows by the way and I still stand by those words. If I had more time, those words would be actions. I’d make up for it, if you just let me.”

Him saying that over the phone, did make you feel a way. It made the back of your eyes burn but the shield was already in the works of being fully up. You didn’t need to hear this, you never doubted Terry’s love for you but it was over, you had the scissors slowly running along what kept you connected. Terry didn’t get the choice to go back on the agreement, yes people change their minds all the time but there was no time to compromise.

“There’s no use in crying over spilled milk, Terry.” Is all you can say, leaving each other to listen to each other’s breathing before the man is finally hit with the call ending.

He’s left holding on tightly to his phone, taking in the sound of autumn’s whipping air outside of his home. Tossing the phone behind him on the bed, Terry gets to his feet, determination shining his in his eyes while he begins to put his mind elsewhere opposed to holding onto you.

As you sat at the front desk, you snapped out of the dissociation that wanted to creep in, to place your phone on charge. Then grabbed onto some scissors returning back to the craft project you were working on to help decorate this level of the hospital for the holidays.

Snip!

જ⁀➴ ༄ જ⁀➴ ༄ જ⁀➴ ༄ જ⁀➴ ༄ જ⁀➴ ༄ જ

More autumn anthology prompts here.

[dicksoutforakutagawa]

bsd characters at metal shows with you

author's note: i go to metal shows a lot. i saw iron maiden live. metal shows are actually so fucking fun. but bring earplugs because the music is SO loud

other note: i have never seen anybody be flirted with or hit on at my local metal shows. apparently my local metal scene is full of very respectful people. i've been in mosh pits with a bunch of drunk 6'0+ men and felt perfectly safe and i think metal shows are beautiful for that

features nikolai, chuuya, atsushi, akutagawa, and dazai :3

nikolai

he is crowdkilling.

his six foot tall ass is in the mosh pit flailing like he's been electrocuted

nikolai is that one cunt in the pit who gets you with a fist to the face but then helps you stand up again. and his smile is too pretty for you to stay mad at, even though you can already feel the bruise forming

he is the guy who will drag you to the very front right up at the stage and headbang to hell and back

look at his long beautiful hair. you cannot tell me that he would not utilise this when headbanging

does not wear earplugs. he is raw dogging the hearing damage

stays for the whole set and very loudly cheers on the local bands as well as whatever big one has come touring

wears a band shirt and gets really sweaty. you're pretty sure he gave someone a concussion but, between the strobe lights and the way he's flailing, it was kind of hard to tell

will point out his favourite bands to you and tell you weird trivia you didn't previously know

he WILL try to make you get in the mosh pit with him. i'm sorry. it's unavoidable. he will accept a no but he will go mosh without you for a few minutes

if you mosh with him he will be absolutely fucking delighted. will probably kiss you (with tongue) in front of everyone because he is just Like That

headbangs at the front of the stage with you. when you both get dizzy, he grabs the railing and wraps his other arm around your waist. you're suddenly very thankful for the bad lighting because you can feel your entire face going red

he will walk you home but he will also invite himself inside because he is drunk. falls asleep on your bed before he can even take his shoes off. he makes up for it by making breakfast the next morning

akutagawa

reid said that you'd see him in the pit and think 'i could knock him over easily' and when you slam into him he doesn't move at all and i think this is so true

he stands on the edge of the mosh pit. he may only be like 5'8 but somehow nobody knocks him over

does not wear a band shirt. he rocks up in his lame gothic attire and is the prettiest boy there

he does not headbang much because it gives him headaches. he just stands there giving the band members a death glare

is actually REALLY enjoying the music

he does wear earplugs. he values his hearing

will buy you drinks but will bitch and moan about it. he is careful not to get drunk though because he sees those large men in the mosh pit beating each other up and he does NOT trust that

stays for the whole show. he paid for those tickets and he's not leaving

actually has a really good time but will never admit to being as much of a metalhead as he actually is

his favourite part is standing there next to you but he is very very shy. he might hold your hand if he's feeling brave enough but may also just resort to standing shoulder to shoulder

will not mosh with you if you ask him to but he will stand there to grab you in case you get knocked over

he spends about 50% of his time actually watching the musicians. the other 50% is spent looking at you and admiring you. he is secretly swooning over the fact that you enjoy metal as much as he does

will drive or walk you home. walks you right up to your door. he very shyly goes to kiss you goodbye but then gets nervous and kisses your forehead instead. when you grab him and kiss him properly his knees go weak and he nearly falls over

he is immediately trying to find more metal shows to go to once he gets home

atsushi

has never been to a metal show before

'no i won't need earplugs', he insists. the band starts playing. he immediately asks you to give him the earplugs

metal is not really his thing but he discovers that he enjoys headbanging and the general atmosphere

does not own a band shirt to wear to the show. he purchases one once he decides which band is his favourite

he stands at the back of the crowd near the bar because the music is too loud and he is scared of the mosh pit

(after a few drinks he gets brave enough to enter the pit and he discovers that his ultimate skill is knocking people over in the pit. he has a great time. he feels a little bad once he sobers up though)

stays for the whole show. cheers on all the bands but very quietly because he is slightly intimidated by the aggression

he has fun. he asks you after the show why they kept blaspheming christianity and you realise that you did not explain to him the histories of metal music

if you mosh with him he'll get very excited but he will also get nervous because he is vaguely aware of how much he's wrecking everyone's shit

he does buy you drinks. he does not have the funds for it but he will try to pay for drinks for the entire night. do not let him do this. the agency's pay is not good enough for him to afford this

spends the first band's entire set working up the courage to hold your hand. his hand is SO fucking sweaty and it is shaking a little bit because he's so nervous and excited to be here with you

if you buy him a band shirt he will get excited enough to kiss you. in front of the merch table. and also in front of everyone in line. his face goes BRIGHT red when he realises what he's done and it goes even redder when all the metalheads start clapping and cheering instead of making fun of him

he walks you home. he does not have a driver's license but he walks you home. he'll carry you bridal style if your feet hurt. he doesn't even realise how sweet he's being. he's just too worried about your sore feet

he keeps going with you but only to cheap local shows because his pay is shit

dazai

does not wear earplugs because he is stupid

he does not go in the mosh pit. he went to a show with chuuya when they were 16/17 and he got immediately knocked over and winded and has not been in the pit since

will buy you one round of drinks but you have to buy the next because unfortunately the agency does not pay him that well

he doesn't own any band shirts that still fit him. he wears his usual bandages and they smell very sweaty and terrible by the end of the show

he'll stay for the bands he likes. if you want him to stay for the whole show then he will, but usually he taps out after he's seen all his favourite bands

he stands at the back near the bar. he still vividly remembers entering the mosh pit as a skinny teenager and getting knocked into next tuesday and, given that he hates pain, he is not going anywhere near the mosh pit

he does not headbang. he just kind of bops his head to the beat

follows you like a puppy dog. as much as he wants to pretend to be cool and aloof, he cannot stop himself from trailing after you the entire show. even if you go near the mosh pit

will spend at least an hour psyching himself up to hold your hand. his hands are gross and sweaty when he eventually does it. he's too proud of himself to care

after he loosens up, he stands with an arm around your waist while he listens to the music. he decides that actually, metal music isn't so bad, especially when he's here with you

he walks you home. he has to consciously stop himself from giggling and kicking his feet when you kiss him goodbye

he will continue to go to shows with you but only cheap local ones

chuuya

chuuya gets right into it. he headbangs and sings along to the lyrics he knows. he can do a surprisingly good fry scream

he owns several band shirts. he forced dazai to attend multiple local metal shows in their youth and bought a shirt from every show. he wears his favourite band's shirt to the show and will buy you a shirt as well as himself

he buys you drinks. gets pleasantly drunk but not absolutely hammered

he enters the mosh pit and uses his gravity manipulation to weigh himself down so that his 5'3 ass doesn't get mashed into the ground

definitely wears earplugs. will also force you to wear earplugs. you cannot listen to metal if you go deaf

he also stays for the entire show and he cheers on all the bands

chuuya likes to stand at the very front up at the stage but will stand wherever you want to be

he proudly holds your hand

if you come up to stand at the railings with him, or if you mosh with him, he genuinely swoons and has to take a moment to stop himself from asking for your ring size

he makes sure not to send you flying in the mosh pit. he's considerate like that

he buys you as many drinks as you want. he will also buy you a band shirt. he'll buy you a band shirt from all the bands that performed if you ask him to

walks you home. kisses the back of your hand goodbye like a gentleman. is squealing to himself the whole way home because he's SO excited that you came to a show with him and the blush on your face when he kissed your hand was SO cute

is overjoyed when you want to continue going to shows with him. gets very excited and starts trying to take you to all the shows for his favourite local bands

[enhafilthandfiction]

I'm not a Perv, just Crushing on you - Yang Jungwon ☆

A/N : Here is the ask for this post. I love this idea lmao had to turn it into a fic! Tbh it's probably one of my favourite fics 🤭🤭

Summary : Your brother's best friend might seem like a pervert, but he's not. He just likes you a little too much not to look down your shirt. What happens when he gets jealous of a guy you flirted with at your family's get together party?

Pairing : BrothersBestFriend!Junwon X Fem!Reader

Warnings : Shy Jungwon and reader, mentions of Jungwon being slightly pervy, teasing, first shared kiss, Confession from Jungwon, groping, unprotected sex, Jungwon unzipping reader's dress, grinding, slight fingering, cumming inside, slight pillow talk? and hints of another round at the end. Enjoy ;)

Word Count : 2.5K Words

Masterlist

Jungwon didn't expect you to be here. Not at a stupid annual family get together party. He's been forced to attend to this party all these years yet he's never seen you around. How come you're attending now? All of a sudden? Maybe this party wasn't as bad after all.

He eyes you from the distance. You were his best friend's sister, the girl that he happens to have a crush on. The first time he saw you was at your house, the first time he came over to game with your brother. Your older brother, Sunghoon, had mentioned you before, but when Jungwon saw you for the first time- fuck, he wasn't even focused on the game anymore.

You were everything he'd ever dreamed of. Cute and shy with blushed cheeks as you introduced yourself. Voice delicate and soft, eyelashes batting up at him. He knew you were going to be the death of him.

That day he kept getting excuses. "Uh Sung, may I use the restroom?" he had asked, hoping to bump into you in the corridors or something. With the go ahead of your brother, he'd made it out of the room and was left alone to wander, luckily finding your room on his first try.

He was also pretty shy himself, gently opening your door pretending he was lost. "Uh h-hi, I got lost tryna find the bathroom" he blurts out under his breath catching your attention. You look up and smile, getting off your bed and leading him to the bathroom. That's when he thanked you and a little conversation sparked. Who knew that wouldn't be the only conversation between the two of you?

Jungwon knew it was bad. Against the bro-code or whatever. But he didn't care. He had to have you. The next day he was brave enough to text you, easily finding you from your brother's 'following list' on insta. You were delighted as you accepted his follow request and headed to the messages section to find that he'd sent you a message.

From then, he had started hitting on you, hinting his crush on you and trying to get closer but still keeping it lowkey to your brother. All these months he'd kept it all inside of him because he wasn't sure if you fancied him back and feared that you would tell you brother.

You never really seemed to lead him on; until summer. Without no school he started coming over way more than usual. And you started liking him. You've started noticing how cute he looked with messy hair after he's crashed your home couch or how he bit his lower lip in concentration as he tried to beat your brother in Mario Cart.

You started wearing low cut tops around him just to show off your cleavage or shorter shorts just so that your ass hangs out a little. It was driving Jungwon insane. You new it. He would only take one glance at you and look away, cheeks flushed as he swallows.

But he was a slight pervert too. You'd catch him look your way at some point, then look away real quick, hoping you didn't notice. But you did. You have been all along. You were finally understanding all those texts from him. He had been hitting on you.

Which is why now, after hearing you brother say that he's going to meet up with Jungwon at this boring party, you weren't going to miss the opportunity. You put on your favourite dress and put down your hair and got ready for the party. Which is why now

He eyes you from the distance. He notices what you wore and wonders if you wore that dress just for him. He notices your gorgeous smile and he smiles too, until he sees why you're smiling.

Kim Jong-fucking-hoo. That dude from school. He was in Jungwon's class the past years and he's always been a bully. You shouldn't be talking to him. Mainly because you should be talking to Jungwon but also because Jonghoo is a bad influence.

You notice Jungwon from the corner of your eye and as you look to the side you offer him a little smile, only to turn back to the other guy. Jungwon wonders what he should do. He knows you're teasing him by the way you keep glancing at him but he's not sure if he should approach you.

That's until you place your arm on Jonghoo's biceps, laughing about something that wasn't exactly funny. Jungwon looses it. He makes his way over to you both and snatches you away from that jerk.

"She's my girlfriend" is the only excuse Jungwon brings up when the other dude complains when he takes you away. His grip on your hand is strong as he leads you up the strairs, not really sure where he's going.

"Woah woah, slow down Won" he loves it when you call him that. "Where are we going?" you ask, eyes wide "Also, I'm not your girlfriend!". He sighs and walks you into the nearest room he finds which happens to be someone's bedroom. He locks the door behind you two and faces you.

"Why were you teasing me?" he asked you eyebrows furrowed. Before you can say anything he cuts you off "Don't pretend you weren't. You have been all this time. The shirts and the shorts and, and the texts-"

You look down almost in shame but then remember that he's been noticing and looking this whole time. "So you are a little bit perverted huh? If you weren't you wouldn't be looking at my shirts and shorts all the time" you accused crossing your arms.

He sighs to himself and without thinking he just says what he has to say "I'm not a pervert y/n, I just kinda.. like you" he blurts out with difficulty. You almost think he's messing around until he says it again. "I mean, you've probably noticed I've been hitting on you all this time so it shouldn't be a surpris-"

You cut him off, pressing your lips onto his and pushing him up against the wall. Your arms move all over him, making sure it's not a dream. He kisses you back eagerly after he gets over the little shock.

He pulls away for a quick second "Wait, so you like me back?" he ask out of breath. You nod and desperately connect again, your lips on his. This time he places his hands on your hips and flips you, so that you're the one against the wall. You smile into the kiss already enjoying this new side of him.

You place your hands on his biceps and feel how firm they are. Who would've thought that your brother's shy best friend was buff? As your mind started wondering what he could do to you with his strength, he places his hands right below your ass, picking you up.

You wrap your legs around his waist and as if he read your mind, he walks you to the bed. He chuckles as he places you down on it gently, and as you're settling in he takes off his shirt. A new chuckle leaves his lips as he sees you staring, but he doesn't want to embarrass you.

He climbs onto the bed atop of you and decides to kiss you again. During the kiss, he grabs your hand and places it somewhere near his abs. When you pull away for breath he sits up on his knees, your hand still against his abs. "You can touch, you know?" he smiles, loving the way you're so mesmerized by his abs. Guess the gym with Sunghoon was worth it.

You catch him staring at the cleavage of the dress, almost undressing you with his eyes. "Here I'll take it off" you say, offering a little smile. You get off the bed but as you stand you realise you won't be able to reach the zipper yourself.

"Uhh, mind if you unzip me?" you ask shyly, awkwardly waiting for him to unzip your dress. His face brightens at your request. He gets behind you and runs his hands along your back before finding the little zipper, lowering it slowly.

Once unzipped, he places his hands into the dress, around your waist. You let the straps of the dress fall from your shoulders, the garment finally falling to the floor at your ankles.

You let your intrusive thoughts win as you take a step back and angle your ass out, subtly grinding on him. "Fuck" is all he can mumble under his breath before grinding back into you, his hands on your hips, fucking your clothed pussy.

"P-please Won, need you i-inside" you whine. He already felt good clothed, just imagine how he'd feel deep inside you. He obliges, with his hands still on your hips, he turns around, making you rest your hands on the mattress.

With just your hands at the edge of the bed supporting you, you were at his mercy. He leans down, his chest against your back, pecking the back of your neck with little kisses. Then when he actually realises this is about to happen he realises that he doesn't have any rubbers on him.

"Uh y/n, I wasn't really prepared and I uh- I don't have a condom on me" he says shamefully. You just wriggle your ass against him teasingly.

"It's fine, I wanted you to cum inside anyway" you admit, making him curse under his breath. He could've sworn he felt his dick twitch at your statement.

Without thinking twice, he slid down his pants along with his underwear, his cock springing up almost against his abdomen. You couldn't help but turn around to take a look, your gaze making him blush. You were right, a pretty boy must have a pretty cock.

"Shit, you're so big" you compliment "Can't wait to have it in me" you giggle as you notice it twitch. He breathes in, his face feeling too warm. When you turn back around and wriggle your ass again, he knows he shouldn't waste more time.

He presses two of his fingers against your clit circling around before sliding down your lips, rubbing you over your soaked panties. The way you squirm around makes him want more, suddenly sliding your panties to the side so he could really admire your glistening core.

"You're so fucking wet" he curses under his breath when he lets his fingers ghost over your now-bare pussy. And you were wet, drenched actually. You were so wet for him that it felt like you were menstruating or something. But it was only arousal for him.

He experimentally dipped one of his fingers into you, wanting to see how tight you actually were. He sucked in a breath as he realised you're way tighter than he had imagined. Impatient, he pulled his fingers out gently, bringing them to his mouth before sucking them clean.

"You taste so good" he notes, licking your arousal off his fingers. "If I wasn't so desperate to fuck you I'd eat you out right now" but he was too needy at the moment and his dick almost started hurting with neglect.

"Ready?"

"Mhm" you hum back, mentally preparing yourself to finally take your brother's best friend after all this time.

He breathes in as he moves your panties to the side, giving himself a few strokes before pushing his red tip into your entrance. Even that was already big enough for you, already clenching around the little he gave you.

"Stop clenching like that y/n or I'll cum" he warned, not wanting to ruin it for both of you. You tried your best to just relax and take all of him, shutting your eyes tight at the slight sting of him pushing inside.

It's not like you were a virgin or anything, but he was probably the biggest you've ever taken so far. You sigh out in union as he finally stills inside you, letting you adjust to his size a little bit before starting to actually fuck you.

You were making it a little difficult for him to stay still, your cunt squeezing him like it has its own mind. "C-Can I please move?" he asks, hoping you'd give him the green light.

"P-please" you plead, squeezing around him one more time. He grips your hips tightly, starting to fuck into you. His eyes shut tightly as he gets lost in the way you feel. Fuck, this was a million times better than his stupid fist.

"Mm, you, you feel s-so good around me" he stutters in pleasure, the pressure on his dick making it difficult for him to speak. He tried to calm himself down, not wanting to cum too quick and ruin it for the both of you. But with the way you kept squeezing him in, gripping him like a vice, it was almost impossible.

His hips start snapping against yours, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room for a few moments. "A-ah Won, fucking me so good" you praise, trying your best to speak. He was just so deep in you, and so so close.

He dipped his head forward, lips pressing kissing along your back to the back of your neck, making you moan out for him. You could feel him squeeze your hips as you clenched around him, trying to ground himself.

"Shit Y/n, I-I'm close" he warned, almost embarrassed at how fast he's cumming,

But you weren't so far behind either. "S-same" you manages out, vision hazy as your orgasm approached you. His brows furrowed in focus, picking up his pace a little and chasing his orgasm.

When he felt right at the edge, he placed his fingers on your clit, wanting to cum together. With just a few triggering rubs on your clit, you were clenching around him, your arms giving out as you creamed all over his cock.

With a few more of your squeezes he was cumming too, hot spurts of his release filling you up. All he could do was curse under his breath before pulling out gently and laying beside you breathlessly.

You rolled onto your back, your arms now touching. You had already regained your breath a little, having finished before him. "You okay Won?" you asked, checking up on him. But he wasn't quite back yet. He interlaced his pinky finger to yours to show you that he's heard you, before sighing out.

His eyes suddenly open and he turns to his side, facing you. "How was it? Did you feel good?" he asked, wanting to make sure you're satisfied.

"Amazing actually" you replied, smiling to yourself.

He sighed contently and closed his eyes again until you speak once more. "I can still feel your cum inside me" you mumble, feeling it trickle out of your hole.

"Fuck, don't say things like that or you'll make me pop another boner" he warns.

"Maybe I want that" you smile cheekily. "How about we go shower?" you ask hopefully, an evil grin on your face.

"Oh yeah, I'm definitely going to get another boner"

Thankyou for reading to the end! I hope you enjoyed it :D Have a good day/night and remember that ily! <333

[writtenbyan-aries]

Summary: Reader gives Colby the cold shoulder for something that happened years ago, only to come to terms with what they want to do about it.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, reader is kind of snippy with Colby, alcohol consumption, slight name calling, use of pet names, hair pulling, choking, oral (f rec), unprotected slightly intoxicated sex, just filth

This honestly did go the way I wanted it to, so might rewrite it later on or something. I don’t know, but there's going do be a point in this one shot to where I add more warnings. You'll understand when you come to it. Enjoy! 🖤

Word count: 6.3 | not edited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

"You rented out a club?" You raise your brows, "Wow, you really do plan on celebrating." You put the straw of your iced coffee between your lips.

"Yeah, well this is a big thing to be celebrating." Sam laughs, "I just.. I know you and Colby don't really get along.. so I just-"

You put your hand up, "I can tolerate him for you, Sam. So, no worries. It's just when he-"

"Well, well, well, look who we have here."

You roll your eyes, pointing behind you, "That."

"Hey." Sam says leaning back into the couch, "Where were you?" Colby sits down on the arm of your chair, knowing that it will bug the shit out of you, "I went down to the club, talked to the owner."

"Without me?" Sam tilts his head, "I figured, since you and Princess here-" he nods towards you and you roll your eyes, "-were busy planning this, I would take the liberty of going down and paying the down payment."

"Oh shit." Sam looks at you and you nod, "I totally forgot."

"See. Don't worry. I'm not just worried about partying." He winks at you and you slowly look towards Sam, "Can I strangle him now?"

Sam laughs, "Can you wait until after the party's over?"

You nod, "I guess I can strangle him with a streamer or something."

Colby laughs, "Don't threaten me with a good time." You scoff, standing up, "I'm going shopping. I need a dress for tomorrow night."

"Oh, can I come, too? I need to find a nice shirt." Sam leans forward and you nod, "You can. But he can't."

"What did I do to be punished by staying home?" Colby raises his hands and you laugh, "By Colby being Colby."

You were actually surprised when Colby didn't follow you guys out the door.

"So what's your deal with Colby, really? You never really filled me in on that. All I know is that you just hate him." Sam asks as he buckles up.

You laugh, "I know he's your friend, brother, bestie, whatever, but he just gets on my last nerve. Every single time he's around me."

Sam laughs, "Have you ever thought that maybe he likes you?"

"Did he say he likes me?" You glance over at Sam as you drive and Sam shakes his head, "No. I'm just asking if you ever thought about it."

"Now I'm thinking maybe you should have joined him." You mumble with a laugh, "No, I mean. I guess I never really thought- no. No. I don't. Next subject please."

Sam laughs, shaking his head, "Oh yeah. You guys like each other. You just don't know it yet."

You roll your eyes, "Yeah, tell that to the multiple girls in his phone."

Sam sighs, "Colby isn't what you think. Now, I'm not sticking up for him when he constantly picks on you, but at the same time, he doesn't act the way he acts with you when he's with other people."

"Other girls, you mean." You smirk slightly and sam nods, "Well, yeah."

You sigh, "It's like he knows he annoys me and he just uses that to his advantage at really getting under my skin."

"You let him."

You look at Sam, "No I don't."

"Yes you do."

"Do fucking not."

He laughs, "Do fucking to."

"I'm done talking." You lay your hand over your mouth, "Actually- no. Nevermind."

Sam laughs, "As I said. You guys like each other. You just don't know it yet."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"I think I'm just going to settle with this mesh romper style looking dress." You hang the other dresses up and Sam tilts his head, "Do you like that one?"

You shrug, "I mean it's com-" your phone ringing catches your attention and you roll your eyes when you see it's Colby.

"Out of me and Sam. You had to call me?" You say as you bring the phone to your ear.

"Yeah, because I knew it would bug you." Colby laughs, "Can you do me a favor?"

"It depends." You look at Sam and he tilts his head, "What's up?"

You shrug, holding up your pointer finger.

"Can you pick me up a shirt? Like a nice button up or something? You know what I like to wear."

"Really. Why didn't you just-"

Colby cuts you off, "Now before you finish that sentence, remember who banished me from coming along. So consider this.." he hums, "I don't know, payback?"

You fight back laughter, "Go to hell, Colby."

"Hell with you sounds like heaven to me. See ya when you get back, Princess."

And with that, Colby hangs up.

You look at Sam, "I guess we have to pick up Colby a shirt for Saturday, too." He laughs and sighs, "I knew that was going to happen."

"And you didn't say anything before?" You say as you walk back over to the dress section. Sam shrugs, "I like to see how things play out."

You roll your eyes, "I hate you sometimes."

Sam slings his arm over your shoulder, "We both know that that isn't true."

You laugh, "Whatever you say." You look through the dresses and gasp slightly when you come across a navy blue dress with chain straps that cross in the back, "Nevermind. I like this one better."

You put the other one on the rack, picking up the blue one, "Alright, now to find you and douche bag a shirt."

"You can be so nice sometimes." Sam laughs and you look at him, "I know, right."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Yo Colby. We're back." Sam yells as you walk into the house.

You close the door, looking around to find the house empty, or so you thought.

"Colby?" Sam yells again and you point to the steps, "I'll run up and put his shirt in his room."

You dig through the bag and pull out his shirt. You sling it over your shoulder as you move up the steps.

You let out a sigh as you reach the top, turning to walk down the hall. You twist the knob, pushing the door open and you freeze when you see a shirtless Colby sitting at his computer with his headphones on.

After a few seconds, you blink, breaking your stare and you clear your throat. You throw the shirt at him and he jumps, whipping his head over to look at you.

"Jesus Christ, y/n." He laughs as he pulls his headphones down around his neck. He pulls the shirt off his shoulder and the back of the chair.

"Sam yelled for you twice." You lean against the door frame, "Does that reach your standards?"

Colby holds up the split, two tone skull button up, "I knew I could count on you." He looks back at you and you roll your eyes, "Uh huh. You're welcome."

As you go to close the door, Colby stops you, "Hey, wait a second."

"Yeah?" You blink slowly, looking at him.

"Why don't you hang out with me for a while? I can promise I'm not as bad as you think." He spins towards you and you suck air through your teeth, "Something tells me that sticking my hand in vat of acid would hurt less than being alone with you."

"Um.." he tilts his head, shaking it slightly, "Ouch?" He laughs and raises his hands, "Why do you despise me so much?"

No one knows the real reason, you refuse to tell anyone why. It felt silly, but at the same time.. it felt like it was best to keep it between you and only you.

Younger you, the one that Colby, unknowingly, broke the heart of, was holding a grudge, to say the least.

So you put up a wall.

You made Colby the enemy so you wouldn't fall for him like you did years ago.

"I just.. have better things to do than g-" you stop yourself, "I have plans, dinner plans with friends."

"Yeah? Where at?" Colby smirks and you roll your eyes, "Kris, Celina, and I are going to that new place that opened on Fifth."

"Hmm. I see. Well you three have fun."

You nod, turning around and pulling the door shut, and you mentally curse yourself because Sam was right.

You do, infact, allow him to get under your skin because a part of you, a big part, is still madly in love with him.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

As you walk into your apartment from dinner with friends, your phone chimes in your purse. You let out a sigh, closing the door before setting your purse on the stand and digging out your phone.

You smirk slightly when you see it's a text from Colby, So, how was dinner? Is that place worth going to?

You kick your shoes off, walking over to the couch and plopping down, I mean.. yeah. It was worth it I'd say.

You set your phone down, switching on your tv, but your mind can't focus on what's playing. Instead, it focuses on what Sam said earlier on in the day.

"You two like each other, you just don't know it yet."

You start questioning everything, Was he implying that Colby liked you? Could you be able to open up to him again? Why didn't he seen that you liked him before? Was there something wrong with you back then?

Colby was the first person you ever felt love for. When you seen him with, not just another girl, but with your friend that knew you liked him - it shattered you.

That first heartbreak was the worst, and since you were friends with Sam, it followed you.

Haunted you for all these years.

You phone dings and you blink, looking over at it. You pick it up and laugh weakly as your eyes scan over Colby's texts.

We should drag Sam there before we head to the club on Saturday.

So now I'm getting radio silence?

Come on, Princess. You can't ignore me, we're so in love, remember?

You bring your phone down, resting in your lap as you type, you know that I hate you right?

You start to type out a message, Actually, Colby. I take that back. I don't actually hate you I-

You stop once you see Colby's message pop up, you know, I once heard that enemies make the best lovers.

You delete your half written text, replacing it, oh yeah? Where did you hear that from? The little voice inside of your head.

You laugh slightly and toss your phone down, getting up to go get a drink. By the time you come back, you have two new messages.

Of course from Colby.

Hey, that man is smart. At times. Don't judge me.

Listen, can we hang out? I think we can get along just fine.

You read his message, debating on what you should do. Of course you want to hang out with him, but that little piece of you wants to keep pushing him away.

By the time you start typing out a lie, there's a knock on your door.

You walk over, looking out of the peep hole and sighing as you open the door, "You're relentless, Brock."

"Yet.. you still open the door for me." He smirks as he walks in, "I always forget how small your apartment is."

You close the door, "You know you can leave at any-"

"Relax, princess. I'm joking." He smirks as he shrugs off his black leather jacket, "So whatcha have good for dinner?"

You watch as he walks over to the couch, sitting down, "Um. I just had.. the pasta."

Fight it.

No, tell him. Tell him how you really feel.

No. You have to fight it. He's your enemy. He broke your heart.

He doesn't know that.

You shake your head, huffing as you get the little angel and demon on your shoulders to shut up.

"What did you say?" You tilt your head, "Sorry. I'm just really tired."

"Mhm." Colby hums, "I asked how fancy the place was."

You walk over, sitting on the opposite end of the couch, "Eh, I mean it's more like a business casual type place? I don't know. We just showed up how we all normally dress and no one batted an eye, so I don't really think it matters."

Colby stares at you and you look at him, "What?"

A smile grows on his face a slowly, "That's the nicest you've ever been to be."

"Oh fuck off." You laugh, "What are you doing here anyway?"

Colby leans back against the couch, extending his arm over the back, "I told you I wanted to hang out."

Your eyes scan over his ring covered fingers, "Yeah, I was going to tell you-"

"A lie." He says cutting you off, "yeah. I figured that's why I didn't give you an option." He laugh, "I know I can be hard to deal with sometimes, but I think if we can work whatever your issue is with me, we can be decent friends."

"It's not.." you sigh, "I just.." you struggle to come up with something and Colby calls you out, "It's not.. you just.. what? What?" He laughs, "Do you like me? Are you nervous and you try to cover it up with being mean to me?"

You laugh, "You're ridiculous." You look at him, "Me.. liking you? Please."

"Would that be such a bad thing?" He shrugs, "I mean, honesty is the best policy, right?"

"I thought you came here to hang out, not interrogate me." You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile. Colby raises his hands, "Yeah, right. Sorry."

"So this party." You lean back and look at him, "Who all is going to be there?"

"Usually the same ones who are at the others. Me, you. Sam. Jake and Johnnie. Tara. Oh." He snaps, "We got the triplets to come."

You raise your brows, "You guys Nick, Chris, and Matt to come? Wow. Look at you. Moving up in the world." You tease with a laugh, "so I'm sure it'll be fun."

He nods, "I'm hoping."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

A few hours later you wake up, blanket over your body and the end credits to the movie rolling on the tv screen.

You sit up, looking around, but Colby is no where to be found.

You reach for your phone to check the time, but see a message from Colby. You click on it, opening the text to see a picture of you asleep on the couch, you look so pretty when you sleep.

Although it was a sweet gesture, your wall is still up around yourself, you'll look pretty after I stab you.

You set your phone down, standing up to go change into comfier clothes.

As you come back, your phone dings, but it's not who you think.

It's from Sam, So how'd it go?

You instantly respond, Did you tell him to come here?

Sam answers, I'm not telling you anything until you tell me how it went.

You sit back down, laughing, He's alive isn't he.

You go back to Colby's thread and read what he sent, Again, don't threaten me with a good time.

You roll your eyes, laughing slightly as you lay back down to go to sleep.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

SATURDAY AFTERNOON

It's been, radio silence, all day.

Nothing from Sam.

Nothing from Colby, which is actually kind of surprising.

"Hey." Tara calls out, "I'm here. Where are you?"

"Bedroom." You yell from the comfort of your bed, knowing that that's going to get destroyed once the door opens.

"What are you doing in bed still?" Tara asks walking over, "Come on! Time to get ready to par-tay!" She walks over, opening your curtains and you groan, "Five more minutes."

You roll over but Tara climbs onto you, "Hey."

You look up at her, "What."

She tilts her head, "What's going on with you?" You roll your eyes, shaking your head, "Nothing. I just didn't sleep well last night."

"Why?" Tara whines, shaking your shoulders slightly and you groan, letting out a sigh, "If you get off of me, I'll tell you."

She moves off, sitting next to you and she pushes her glasses up onto her nose, "Okay. Spill."

You sit up, "You can't tell anyone. I haven't ever told anyone this before, not even Sam."

"Yeah, okay whatever. Now tell me."

"You know how.. I've always given Colby the cold shoulder?" You look up at her and she laughs, "Yeah, I think it's funny."

"Well, it's.."

"Come on, spit it out. We're losing daylight here. I still need to try on dresses." Tara pushes your leg and word vomit spills from your mouth in a non stop string.

"Colby broke my heart a few years back and I don't think he knows and ever since then I've been holding a grudge against him. I basically made him my enemy so I didn't get close to him again and it's all because I love him and I really don't want to feel the heartache I felt the first time around."

Tara stares at you, blinking as she processes everything you just spat at her.

"I haven't said anything because it just felt... silly? I don't know. He came over last night and all I wanted to do was keep pushing him away but that other part of me wants to tell him but I just.. can't. Do. It."

"Well.." Tara leans back and you know something bad is going to come out of her mouth, "what."

She purses her lips, "I think this is a bad time to t-"

"Just say it."

"Colby has a date tonight."

You feel your heart sink, but anger rises up quickly.

Mainly at yourself, but some towards Colby for the way he made everything feel different in the course of a day.

It feels like a repeat of what happened years ago.

"Oh." You purse your lips, "Hmm."

"I don't think it's anything serious, I-"

You just Tara off, "No. it's okay." You get up, "I'm fine. Just.." you sigh, "Please don't tell anyone. I'm serious."

She holds her hands up, "I promise. But you.." she points to you, "..missy, you need to handle this yourself."

You nod, "Yeah. I'll just.. let the alcohol do the talking." You laugh, grabbing your things for a shower.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You hear the music growing louder as you walk closer to the club from the car.

Your heart racing harder the more you anticipate seeing Colby with his hands all over his date.

You smile to the bouncer as you walk in, laughing as Tara dances next to you. You greet people, smiling and saying hey as you make your way around.

"Oh there's Sam!" Tara waves her hand at him, and as people in the crowd move, you see Colby standing next to a brunette at the bar.

Your jaw clenches, "Can you get me a drink?" Tara looks at you, "Yeah, what do you want?"

"Whatever, just make it a double." You watch as she walks away and you move into the corner of the club, sitting down on the chair.

It's not long after that Sam walks up to you, "That doesn't look like the happy face of someone who helped me plan this."

You look up at him as he sits on the small table in front of you, giving him a slight laugh, "No I'm happy about this."

"But you're not happy about.."

You tilt your head, "You were right."

A small smirk grows on Sam's lips, "Do you want to clarify exactly, or.." he laughs as you glare at him, "Sam."

"Yeah, I don't know why he's hanging out with her tonight. We both agreed to just come together."

"Really? Tara told me-"

"Here you go, y/n." Tara hands you or drink and you immediately suck half of it down, "Oh god, I needed that." 

You look back up at Tara but she's gone, already dancing with people on the dance floor.

Sam reaches out, punching your knee, "Do you wanna go somewhere and talk?" You put your straw between your lips and nod.

You get up, following Sam to a room on the side and he closes the door.

Little do you know, you have Colby's full attention.

"Alright, gimme the tell all." Sam rubs his hands together and you laugh slightly, "A few years ago.. something happened with Colby and it stuck with me."

Sam's face falls slightly, "What happened?"

"I.. liked Colby. A lot. Like, he was my first love, basically. I thought he liked me too, and then he got with-"

Sam cuts you off, "Stella. I remember that." He nods, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't think I had to." You blurt out, sucking down the rest of your alcohol, "God. Now I'm mad that I'm out of alcohol."

Sam chuckles, "Alright. Let's go get you more and you just .. enjoy the party you helped me plan, okay?"

You take a deep breath, nodding as you look at him, "I'm sorry."

He shakes his head, "It's fine. Come on." He walks over, opening the door and the loudness floods in. You walk out, heading straight for the bar.

The bartender points to you and you lean in, "Can I get a double captain and coke please." He nods and walks away to make it.

You tap the bar as you wait and you feel someone walk up next to you, "What'd ya order?"

"Double captain." You say, eyes glued to the bottles of alcohol on the shelf across from you.

"Going heavy from the start, huh?" Colby asks leaning down, "Are you okay?"

You look at him, "Yeah. I'm great." You force a smile and look away from him, taking your drink and bringing the straw to your lips.

"Slow down, you'll get-"

You cut Colby off, "Don't you have a date to worry about?"

Colby cocks his jaw, "Mm. I see."

"See what?" You snap and before Colby can answer, you feel a hand around your wrist and you're pulled from the bar.

"Come on, tiger. Now's not the time." Tara says looking back at you. You bring your drink up, sucking as much down as you can before you stop.

"Dance. You need to settle." Tara starts to dance and you can't help but laugh, feeling a bit looser from the first drink settling in quickly.

You force yourself to not look at Colby, keeping your distance because your anger wants to lash out.

You were pissed all over again from him being so oblivious the first time around.

You were pissed about him coming over last night, making things feel like they could be alright.

You were pissed you even thought about letting your guard down.

"Another double captain and Coke." You slide your empty glass on the bar and look behind you as you hear the music die down.

Everyone starts to cheer when Sam walks up on to the small stage, followed by Colby.

"Thank you guys so much for being here." Sam starts out, "You know, I want to say a huge thank you to someone who's here tonight. Without her, we couldn't have planned this party like this. Y/n." Sam pauses, looking around, "Where are ya?"

You raise your hand and Sam starts speaking, "There she is. Everyone please give y/n a hand because she's the one who made this party happen."

You smile, looking around and you take your drink as soon as it's sets down on the bar.

The music starts to play loudly again and Sam makes his way through the crowd, "Hey. You doing okay?"

You laugh, "Oh yeah. Feeling much better."

He laughs, "I think you should talk to Colby." You take a deep breath, "I've moved past it." He raises a brow, "Have you?"

You groan, "No."

Sam leans in, "Tara made that girl leave, per Colby's request."

You turn your head, looking at Sam, "Really?"

Sam nods, "Mhm."

You found yourself wanting to kiss Sam, but you knew that wouldn't be a good thing, "Um.." you lean back, "Yeah.. I.."

Sam tilts his head, "What's up?"

You shake your head, "N-nothing. I think.. after this one.. I'm done.." you laugh, looking down at your full glass.

Sam laughs, "I see. Well, whenever you want to talk to Colby, just text me."

You turn towards Sam, placing your hand on his arm, "Can you be there? Just in case things.. get out of hand?"

He nods, "anything for you." He winks and smiles before he walks away.

You turn to the bar, staring down at the dark wood and now there's even more questions.

Why do you suddenly feel attacked to Sam?

Why did you want to kiss him?

"Fuck." You groan lowly, "What the fuck." You push yourself from the bar and walk to find the bathroom.

You walk in, taking a deep breath as the loudness drowns out, giving you a moment to think.

You pull out your phone, clicking on Sam's name. You try to type out a message, but nothing seems to sound right.

Your head starts to spin as more thoughts roll in and you lean against the wall.

The only way you were going to get any answers to the questions you have, is by talking to them.

You unlock your phone, sending a text to Sam, Okay, where do I have to go?

You hold your phone to your chest as you wait for an answer, which doesn't take long, Meet me by the stage.

You put your phone in your purse and pull open the door, walking down the small steps and around to the stage.

As you're looking around, you run into someone and when you look up, you see Sam smiling down at you, "Hey."

You smile forgetting all of your emotions for a split second, "Hey."

But it's all brought back when Sam nods, "Come on, follow me." You follow him past the bar, in through a door that leads you to a small corridor with three doors on either side.

Sam walks you to the last one, pushing the door open.

You follow him in, the room is lit red and Colby is sitting in a chair, chin rested in his palm, "About time."

"Sorry. I gave her time to be ready." Sam says as he closes the door behind you.

Your eyes stay on Colby and he looks at you, "What's up, Princess?"

You tilt your head, a billion things you want to say first racing through your mind.

You feel hands on your arms, gently rubbing up and down, "Just tell him." Sam whispers, "Tell him everything you told me."

If your heart could beat out of your chest, it would be on the floor right now.

"I'm.. so mad at you." You start, "I'm so fucking, unbelievably mad at you for breaking my heart and not even caring that it stuck with me all these years."

Colby nods, allowing you to continue, "You were my first love, and my first heartbreak. How did you not notice that I was head over heels for you?"

You pause, taking a breath, Sam's hands still on your arms, "I built a wall. Treated you like an enemy all because I fucking love you, but you made me too scared to even want to get close to you again."

Colby stands up, walking over to you, "What do you want, princess."

You lean back into Sam, his head resting on the back of yours, "I-I want.." you look up at Colby, "You."

A smirk grows on his lips and he pulls his lower one between his teeth. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, "Just me?"

You stare at him, kind of nervous to tell him about how you felt about Sam just a little bit ago.

Colby tilts his head, "You sure about that? I seen the way you were looking at him at the bar.." his hand travels up and down your bicep, "The way you're leaning into his touch right now."

You think about pulling away from Sam but you don't want to.

"Why do you think you've always been the only girl in my life?" Sam asks as he rests his chin on your shoulder, "Why do you think I'm always asking you to move out of that small ass apartment and into the spare room at our place?"

"Y-You.." you think for a moment, "You both want me?"

Colby nods, "Why do you think Sam was so persistent on getting you to be okay with me?"

"You talk?" You laugh slightly, "of course you do."

"We want you." Sam whispers, lips brushing against your cheek, "Do you want us?"

You bite your lip, eyes staying on Colby's for a few seconds. He leans in, inches away from your face, "What do you say, princess?"

You reach up, pulling Colby in to close the space. Your tongues dance together in a passionate motion before he leans back, "Atta girl."

"Now that we got that out of the way." Sam spins you towards him, cupping your cheeks before he plants his lips onto yours.

Your hands move to the sides of his neck, pushing your body against his. His hands slide down, gripping your waist, "I can wait my turn." He mumbles leaning back, "I wanna watch you and Colby make up."

He spins you around and Colby lifts you off the ground, your legs finding their way around his hips.

"Is that okay?" Colby asks as he walks over to the long couch.

"Is what okay?" You question and Colby chuckles, "That Sam watches me fuck you?"

You nod quickly, "But what about your party?"

Colby shakes his head and lays you down on the couch, "Fuck the party. We're having more fun in here."

You smirk and tilt your head as his lips connect to your neck, biting and marking up your skin with deep, purple marks.

You let out a moan, fluttering your eyes closed as you feel him grind against you through the thin layer of your panties, "Colby." You whimper, "Please."

He lifts his head, "Please what, princess?"

You grip the collar of his shirt, the one you bought for him, "I need you."

"All in good time, my love." He pecks your lips, reaching back to unhook your leg from around him, "I want to see what you've been withholding from me for all these years."

He grabs your hands, pulling you up so your back is now against the back part of the couch. He moves down to his knees, in between yours and his hands slide up your thighs.

You glance over at Sam who's intently watching the scene unfold.

You bite your lip, smirking slightly as you turn your head to look down at Colby. You lift your hips as his fingers hook in between your skin and the band.

He drags them down and you pull your one leg out, letting them hang off your high heel covered foot.

He lifts your legs onto his shoulder and you scoot down slightly, biting your lip as you anticipate his lips on your clit.

You tilt your head back, letting out a moan as he sucks and flicks his tongue over it, groaning against you as he tilts his head down to lick in between your folds.

"Fuck." Sam whispers off to the side.

You reach your arm out, lifting your head to look at him as your breathing quickens and you grip the cushion with your other hand.

Sam moves over, sitting down next to you. His arm goes over the back of the couch, behind your head and he grips your chin to plant his lips on yours.

He swallows your moans that are caused by Colby, "You look fucking beautiful like this."

You smirk against his lips, sliding one hand to the back of Colby's head and the other into Sam's hair.

You and Sam both look down at Colby.

You grip their hair, pulling as you pull Colby closer with your leg, "Fuck, Fuck, fuck." You arch your back, whimpering out as you feel so, so, so close.

Colby leans back, licking his lips before moving up and leaning against your body. His lips attach to yours and you groan at the taste of your pussy on his lips.

You turn your head, connecting your lips to Sam's and he groans, "Fuck, I can't wait to have my way with you."

You smirk, "Good thing I know where you live." He chuckles, nodding as he leans back. He gets up, returning to the place he was sitting in before you called him over.

"Lay on your stomach for me." Colby mumbles as he kisses your neck. You slide over, rolling onto your stomach and you lock eyes with Sam.

You feel Colby push your dress up to pool around your waist and you hear the clinking of Colby's belt being undone.

You look over your shoulder as Colby straddles your legs. His hands caress your ass and he brings one up to drop it down with a hard smack.

You whimper, dropping your head a little as you wait for him to do it to the other.

And he does, leaving matching handprints.

You gasp, whining out as you move your hips side to side, "Colby."

You feel him lean down, one hand on the back of the couch, the other guiding his cock go where you both want it to be most, "I'm getting there, princess."

You hear him chuckle and you bite down on your lip as you feel his cock glide between your folds and into where you both want him to be most.

You let out a moan, eyes rolling closed as you feel his hand slide up and over your shoulder to wrap his fingers around your neck, "That what you wanted baby?"

You nod slightly, opening your eyes, "Y-yes."

Your eyes meet Sam's, moaning from Colby's strokes of his cock, and everything is coming together, quite quickly actually.

You were cursing yourself, wanting to smack yourself around for not realizing how clear the answer to everything really was.

You were so blocked by the walls you built around yourself, and you were consumed by your own thoughts, you left yourself clueless to what they were trying to do.

It was all because I love them both, you think, smirking because you know that it's okay to.

You feel Colby's head rest against yours, his cock thrusting deep into your core, "mine." He groans lowly, "Ours."

"Yours." You breathe out, "So fucking yours."

"Tell him." Colby says lowly, a moan slipping from his lips, "let him hear you, princess."

Colby's grip tightens on your neck as he pulls your head up to look at Sam. Your eyes lock onto his and he tilts his head, "Tell me, baby."

"I'm yours." You whimper and Colby slides his hand around to grip your hair, pulling harshly, "Louder."

"Yours.. I'm.." you swallow, moaning loudly, "Yours!"

"That's our girl." Colby presses his lips to your temple before leaning up to withdrawal his cock from you, "Come here."

You roll over, sitting up and Colby's lips crash onto yours. His hands pull you onto him so you're straddling him.

His hand holds his cock steady and you sink down onto you, allowing him to swallow your moans.

His hands slide down to grip your ass, groaning as you grind your hips into his, "C-Colby." He slides a hand up, gripping the back of your neck as he presses his lips to yours.

Your hands slide up his chest, digging into his clothed shoulders as you moan against his lips, mind racing about what's in store for when you get back to their place.

I love them both, you think over and over again, they love me.

The thought alone was enough to get you off.

Colby's hands slide up to pull the top of your dress down, exposing your boobs. His hands inch up, gripping and kneading as you bounce up and down.

Your head falls back, moans escaping your lips as you're sucked into an orgasmic state.

Your walls squeeze Colby's cock as you lean forward, body melting into his as your hands tangle within his hair and pull to earn a groan.

His hands tighten on your waist and you feel him twitch inside you. He lets out a slight chuckle, "Sorry."

You relax onto him, letting out a sigh, "It's okay." You laugh slightly, "Nothing is stopping it from doing it again."

He slides his hands up your back, "You're right, well.. I mean there's one thing.. we should probably get back out there, people are probably looking for us."

"Is it bad I kind of forgot about that for a second?" You laugh leaning up to move off of him. You stand up, pulling your panties up and he shrugs, "I'd rather be with you, trust me. We both do."

Sam walks up, his arms sliding around to fix the top of your dress, "So does it all make sense now?" He laughs quietly and you look from him to Colby, "oh yeah. It's all crystal clear now."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

I'm sorry if this is all over the place, I've been picking up writing it as much as I could. I've been sick the last couple of days and it's been rough.

As always, let me know how you liked it. Thank you so much for reading! Love you all! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[sundew199]

Lunch Date

tags: reiner x f!reader, public sex. construction worker!Reiner, fingering, dirty talk , a smidge of possessiveness

kinktober day four: public sex for @wintrrxxo

Your husband was notorious for forgetting his lunch, to the point you questioned if he were doing it on purpose at this point. I mean how hard is it to grab it from the fridge on his way out? Sure it never bothered you to have to bring it to him, but if he were trying to play it off as mindless forgetfulness, Reiner was going to have to try hard as you weren't buying the bit anymore.

Whatever. It's not like you were doing much to begin with, so driving down to his job site added a bit of excitement. Reiner made enough for you not to have to work and as tempting as the offer was, you still worked a part-time job just so you could feel like you were contributing as well.

Pulling up to where you knew to meet him, you parked the car and sent him a quick text for him to grab the lunch you worked hard on the night before. Normally it was a quick little drop off, sometimes he'd climb into the passenger seat to scarf it down real quick and spend his lunch break with you.

Shortly after sending the text, you caught him jogging up to the drivers side of the car, hair a mess from wearing the hardhat with dust and cement caked on his jeans, boots and shirt. Why did you even bother doing laundry at this point?

Rolling down the window you smiled, beginning to hand him his lunch, only to be blocked by him sticking his head through the window and giving you a kiss.

"Thank you sweetheart." Murmuring before he even pulled away from the kiss, playfully nipping at your bottom lip to be the annoyance that he was.

You didn't even have to ask if he were taking it with him or eating in the car, already opening the passengers side door, climbing in and getting the seat and floorboards dirty.

"I just cleaned the car," Sighing dramatically, because it wasn't a lie, you really did work hard to get it pristine.

"I'll clean it for you this weekend."

Of course he would, cause there wasn't a thing in this world that Reiner wouldn't do for you, no matter how big or small the task was, he was already saying yes. He could be coming home from a twelve hour shift and still find ways to get whatever you needed done. There were times you begged him to just worry about it later, but he always insisted.

"You look good by the way, shame I'm only on lunch."

A scoff served as your reply to his out of the blue compliment, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms, slouching in the drivers seat. "I grabbed the first thing I could find to come drop your lunch off."

"And?" Responding between scarfs of him shoveling his food into his mouth, eating like it were his first meal in days. "I'd still fuck the shit out you, right now actually."

That last bit of his statement should not have stirred the heat in your stomach like it did, but your desires were always so much stronger when it came to him. You had yet to figure out what it was seeing him in his work clothes, dirty and sweaty that made you so horny. Probably just the masculinity oozing off of him, imagining those thick arms of his straining as he tighten bolts on pipes, or his shirt riding up as he held a much larger pipe over his head while someone else screwed the bolts in.

Great. Now all you were thinking about was his happy trail that went all the way down to his groin and his dick. And this would be all you thought about for the rest of the day until he got off work a couple hours from now. You wouldn't even let him take a shower first, undo his belt yourself and shove his dick down your throat before he fucked you stupid and numb.

Ugh. Why did he have to say that. This was going to eat away at you for the rest of the fucking day.

"Fuck me." Muttering under your breath without realizing, assuming you had only said that in your head.

"Okay."

"Huh?" Reforcusing your vision back on him after drifting from reality, seeing Reiner look serious.

"You said you wanted me to fuck you, cmon." Snapping the lid to the Tupperware you brought his lunch in, shoving it back in the cooler that acted as a lunch box and reaching for the door handle.

"Reiner hold on." Cocking a brow, not a bit surprised he took you for being literal when it was purely on accident.

"For what? I've been thinking about it all morning."

"And where exactly are you going to fuck me? In the car?" You could not believe you were actually entertaining this. Obviously there wasn't anywhere secluded enough to do it in the car, nor would you be willing remembering the last attempt and how little room there was for either of you to move. And even then, this was a job site, it's not like there was some perfectly secluded part of the building he had access to that nobody wander over for him to get a quick fuck in.

"God no, last time was enough." Looking offended at the suggestion and still opening his door to step out of the car. You had a hard time trying to figure out what he was doing when he came over to your side, opened your door and turned off the car, shoving the keys in his pocket. "Just come on, it'll be fun."

Oh that stupid knowing smirk was on his face giving you a sort of answer to your internal questions about where this might take place. I mean if you really didn't want to, Reiner wouldn't force you, so why were you stepping out of the car and following behind him.

At least you could say your marriage and sex life weren't boring, your husband always willing to try new things and this should've come as expected on your end.

Reaching a small building that look nearly complete, Reiner made you wait as he went in first to check, sticking his head back out and yanking you by the arm inside. It was stuffy, no central air installed in the building, but you didn't have room to be picky.

"You're fucking insane." Whisper yelling like he hadn't just checked to make sure no one was in here.

"Maybe." Only giving you a shrug and grabbing both sides of your face, pulling you into a kiss and walking you back into a wall. It was ridiculous how quickly you melted into it, wrapped your arms around his neck and sighed into his mouth. His hands eventually moved to hold you at the hips, caging you in to the wall and using his size and height to make as if you weren't even there.

Both of you knew this had to be quick, his lunch break only allotting forty five minutes and maybe twenty had been spent waiting for him and in the car. Reiner inhaled sharply, trailing his lips from your mouth to your jawline, leaving wet sloppy kisses as he worked. He laughed when you pulled him closer by his belt loops, followed by an approving hum and wedging his leg between yours.

"Why'd you wear shorts, not much easy access." Snapping the waist band against your skin, removing himself from your neck to look at you.

"Oh what? Were you expecting me to expect this and save you the trouble by wearing a skirt or dress?" Sarcastically snapping back, rolling your eyes in amusement.

"Mhm, but I can work with this." One corner of his mouth curling upwards deviously, slipping the same hand that messed with your waistband behind it and cupping between your legs. Your head fell back to the cement wall with a sign, suddenly gripping his wrist to try and pull it back.

"And yes before you asked, I washed my hands, wouldn't dream about fingering you into an orgasm without taking necessary precautions." Answering your question before you could even ask, meeting you in another kiss while the pads of his middle and ring finger curled over your clothed clit, swallowing that surprised moan from you.

You were turning into putty the longer he pressed and circled over your clit, stifling your moans and digging your nails into the back of his neck. Reiner tried to keep you occupied with his mouth on yours, or sucking intently on your neck but even he was having a hard time staying focused. Already so wet and ready for him, but even being short on time, Reiner didn't want to immediately fuck you.

Slipping his middle finger between your folds, he groaned into your neck, nipping gently and circling the pad of his finger at your entrance.

"Be honest, were you thinking about me earlier? Wanting me to fuck you before going back to work?"

"Yes, but now isn't the time to tease." Biting back through clenched teeth, trying not to rock your hips onto the finger teasing your entrance, even if you were desperate for it.

"Perfect time to tease actually," Slipping his entire middle finger inside, breathlessly laughing at the way your head tipped back and your moan cracked. "Can't fuck you properly until you're writhing on my fingers."

"Reiner." Speaking his name with a hiss, snapping your head back up to get your point across, but determination was all you were met with as his ring finger started making its way in. The cool metal of his wedding band entering you, made you shutter and let out such a pretty moan.

Planting his boots firmer into the ground, Reiner used the leg between your legs to press into the wall to give you something to balance yourself on as he fingered open your pussy for his dick. He let out another low laugh at the squelching you made as his fingers curled and pumped in and out at a moderate pace, your eyes rolling back into your head and your lips parting. You were so expressive for him, never being good at hiding the pleasure etched and written into your face and Reiner loved it.

Despite your shorts being an obstacle around his hand, Reiner was still able to get his thumb to press down and rub over your clit, even letting out a groan of his own when you clenched down on his fingers. His hand, along with your panties were soaked and all he was doing was awkwardly fingering you behind your shorts like fucking teenagers going at it for their first time.

"Gonna have to take these off here in a minute." Muttering mostly to himself, but not missing the way your eyes suddenly widened and your breath hitched.

"What? How are we suppose to explain that if someone - ooh - sees us" Tucking your bottom lip behind your teeth once you felt his fingers run across the spongy spot deep inside you, stifling a whimper and trying not to let the lust overtake the possibility of being caught.

"No one's going to see us baby." Reassuring you, curling his fingers particularly hard with a grunt and watching you fight against your body's natural reaction to prodding at your g-spot.

"But you could get in trouble."

Pulling his fingers back and dropping his leg some so your feet you plant flat on the ground, Reiner stepped back to undo his belt buckle, pulling out his throbbing dick. He then went ahead and turned you around until you were facing the wall, pulling your shorts and panties down just enough. He glided the head of his cock through your slick folds, the knot in his lower stomach tightening significantly at the prospect of slipping inside the welcoming warmth of your walls.

Your hips pushed back enough to where the head slipped inside, giving him a full body shutter. Taking in a deep breath, he held you by one hip, yanking you back all the way until he was all the way inside you. Might've not been the best idea, nearly cumming from just that, but it got you to squeak out a shaky moan like cry.

Pressing himself to your back, with one arm wrapping around your chest, he kissed the outershell of your ear as he slowly pulled his hips back to thrust in.

"Fat chance of me gettin' in trouble sweetheart, and even if they somehow found out about me fucking my pretty little wife on the job site, what are they going to do? Fire me?" Arrogantly stating, taking it upon himself to squeeze one of your tits in his palm and groan low in your ear, welcoming the sudden tight clench around his cock.

To give you a chance to regain your bearings, Reiner pressed soft kisses to your cheeks while barely thrusting into you from behind, wanting to make sure you could fully enjoy this before stuffing you full and sending you on your way.

But you moaned and pushed your hips back faster, wanting more and not caring about the precautions your husband was taking in mind of you. Now that his fat dick was stretching you out, you were needy and whiny, wanting to be fucked and pressed to this wall, other people be damned.

"Then start fucking me like you're untouchable then."

Reiner laughed a little louder this time, removing himself from your back and standing up straight behind you, using both hands to hold your hips. He sighed, running his thumbs in circles on the bone , admiring the sight of your plush ass to his pelvis and your cunt swallowing his dick. To give himself an even better view, Reiner pulled your shorts down to your knees, spreading your ass cheeks apart and feeling himself pulse inside you at the sight.

Moving his hips nearly all the way back, just the tip still inside you, Reiner thrusted forward harshly, watching your hands up against the wall curl around nothing and a more vocal moan leave your lips. He repeated the action again, and again, picking up speed with each thrust until he was pounding into you at an ungodly pace. His belt buckle rattled against itself, echoing off the walls with your moans in the empty building, making him shutter.

"That's it, fuck yea baby." Breathing out when he noticed his thrusts were being met with ones of your own, throwing yourself back into his pelvis with desperation for more than what he was giving you. The warm palm of his hand moved to grip your waist, unknowingly pressing his fingertips into your subtle skin harshly, leaving indents he wouldn't know about.

A whimper of his name and the flutter of your walls gave him the sign to fuck you faster, your orgasm within reach, even if his was nowhere near. To help out, like the dutiful husband he was, Reiner reached around to play with your clit. Your back arched and head dipped even lower, moaning uncontrollably with the small orgasm.

"Louder, want everyone to hear how good you're taking this dick." Deeply laughing in his chest, enjoying the idea of someone walking by and hearing him fuck his wife, warding off all his coworkers who made off handed comments about how pretty you were and how there was no way he landed someone like you. Possessive or not, Reiner hated the comments, fueled his desire to claim you like some animal.

"You fuck me so good, don't stop." Giving an airy reply, seeing your head pop back up and your arms tense as they pressed into the wall.

"Not stopping till you're dripping down your legs, let every one of those bastards know that you're my wife, mine to fuck, wherever and whenever I want." Something of a growl came out with statement, leaning forward to wrap a hand around your throat and pull you back into him. Sweat was beading at your hairline, rolling down your temple and neck, breathing so heavily against his palm around your throat.

Holding your hips tight to his pelvis, Reiner shoved his dick deeper inside you, poking at your cervix with the goal to shoot his cum directly into your womb if he could, any way to keep the reminder present that you were his and his only.

Pressing down harder on your clit, groaning to the whine you let out, Reiner thrusted his hips faster and faster, vision going blurry from the way your walls clamped down around his dick, begging for his cum to paint the inside.

"Give me one more, m'close." Trying not to sound to pathetic in your ear but knowing that was all he sounded like, his poor dick throbbing with the need to release inside you while also craving the tight flutter of your pussy as you came around him.

Giving him a small nod, you reached to hold onto his wrist around your throat, letting go of all worries of being caught and moaning like Reiner were fucking you in the privacy of the bedroom, doing more than enough as two or three more thrusts from behind were felt. Your second orgasm was timed perfectly with his, mixing together as he came so much inside you it was already leaking out. So filthy, but what more could you expect from Reiner.

He slipped out to smear the last bit of it on your ass cheeks, returning to being annoying and childish. Both of you try to make yourself decent for the possible shameful walk back to the car so Reiner can say bye before heading back to work.

Waiting for him to check if the coast was clear, he snickered at the way you squirmed from the cum leaking out onto your panties, but also trying not to get turned on all over again.

"You're picking up dinner tonight for this." Grumbling at him once you saw the amusement he found in your predicament.

"Only if that means I can have you for desert." Throwing an arm over your shoulders like you were one of his buddies, drawing you in closer to his side as you walked.

"You're so corny." Laughing despite trying to be irritated, pursing your lips to try and fight off the smile.

"Mhm, corny, handsome, strong, amazing lover, how on earth did you end up so lucky." Opening the car door and leaning on the frame before closing it, waiting for you to roll down your window so he can spend the last few minutes of his lunch pecking you with kisses.

"One of the world's greatest mysteries." Chuckling a response to his little quip, holding his chin as you pull him through the window to give him a kiss. Reiner smiles into it, getting a few more out of you before having to pull away.

"I'll see you at home, thank you for the lunch." Adjusting his pants over his hips and shooting you a wink, stealing one last kiss before jogging to catch up with some coworkers who were all walking together back to the main area of the job site, shaking your head and letting out an amused sigh at your husband being himself.

[simpjaes]

enha is desperate horny losers 🔛🔝

i know you probably didn't ask for this but idc

hyung line being desperate and horny

warnings: one mention of piss, virginity loss, mdni

★ heeseung:

sure, he can be desperate. an utter mess, really. eyes empty, cock so fucking hard just looking at you anytime you're around him. as if you don't know he wants you, him knowing you fucking do.

you tease him so aggressively and it pisses him off knowing he can't have you. he's not allowed, or some shit. fuck bro code. he could give less of a fuck that you belong to sunghoon right now, by next week it'll probably be some loser like jake or something.

never him though, for some reason.

he's so tired of going home all alone, fucking his fist right up against his apartment door because he can't manage to make it to his own bedroom before needing the touch. so desperate for you. so goddamn horny out of his mind that he genuinely thinks he might just fucking kill himself if you don't spread your legs for him for real within the next three minutes.

always trying to lure you, always always always wanting you to break before he does. after all, anyone can see you want him too. you just like to play games and he's sick of it. perhaps he's willing to lose this time, if just to get your legs spread around him.

it wouldn't really be a surprise to you by the time you make your way to his place yet again, in that same outfit that you know drives him up a wall. you know you're walking into a lion's den when you step inside. he's already hard, staring at you with narrowed eyes.

"you know exactly what you're doing walking through my door dressed like that." he'd comment. "you think i won't do it, don't you?"

you'd laugh. you'd brush him off. you'd ignore every passing comment thinking you can still tease him, thinking you can still walk away like you're doing nothing to him at all.

it's not a game to him at this point though, because he made himself very clear throughout the day with little comments. little aggressive touches. little degrading remarks. and by the time you think you're safe to leave? oh, no no.

"where do you think you're going?" you'd hear him rush up behind you. "i told you."

he did tell you, and you still stayed.

"Sunghoon's going to kick your ass for acting like this, you know."

"Still trying to make fucking jokes?" He'd rumble the words in a tight voice, slipping his hand straight between your legs from behind and feeling the mess you hide from him time and time again.

"You always this soaked for me or did you just piss yourself in my kitchen?"

"Sunghoon-"

"Fuck Sunghoon." He'd say as if it's the last words you'll ever hear. "This-" he grabs your cunt, his fingers pressing your panties into your hole. "is for me, isn't it?"

☆ jay:

it's not even embarrassing anymore. with the way you know jay wants you and you still pretend like he doesn't. like this friendship is normal and not at all filled with an immense amount of sexual tension.

like you didn't makeout with him at jake's party last weekend, whispering drunken words over what you'd let him do to you.

honestly, it wasn't anything more than a simple friendship before that happened. he isn't sure whether to curse the strong drink or thank it.

you've acted like it never happened since that night but he, oh, he can't stop fucking thinking about those filthy words you whispered up against his ear. "come on, jay, all those study sessions? i keep my legs spread just enough for you to slip your fingers down-" and "could take me to the bathroom right now and do whatever you want."

he's pissed that he didn't do it. then again, you were drunk and so was he. he probably wouldn't have been able to make his way to the bathroom that night without crashing his head through a wall, in all honesty.

oh, but now. as he sits during another study session with you plus two other people who could give less of a shit. you were right in saying you always keep your legs spread for him. he never noticed it too often before, but considering he can feel your thigh pressing against him? maybe you really do want him to slip his hand down. maybe you really do want his fingers.

goddamn.

he hasn't gotten his dick wet in months.

still, you act like what you said at that party never happened at any other time. still, you sit like you hope he remembers it. and, well, he's desperate enough at this point to at least try. right there in front of the group.

his hand slips to your thigh, and his brain is no longer focused on formulas. instead, he's entirely in his head about the little shocked jolt your body does in response. he almost pulls his hand back but he can fucking feel your skin prickle under his palm. it's enough to keep his hand there, petting up, up, up.

his hands are shaking when he looks at you, cock twitching and weak in his pants just like his brain every time you make eye contact with him. you spread your legs a little more as he looks at you, urging him to keep going. unfortunately, the poor guy looks like he's holding back due to the, uh, situation regarding the two other friends in the room.

you're quick to jump up on your feet. fucking finally he's picked up the hints.

"i'm going to the bathroom." you say as you lay a hand on his shoulder, only directing the words towards him at first before looking up to your unsuspecting study group.

jay isn't going crazy right? that's an invitation, right?

and, well, he doesn't fucking care at this point to make himself look a fool. he stands up before you even close the bathroom door and dead-pans at the poor souls about to hear him lose his goddamn mind on you.

"I'm gonna, uh, you know-" he starts, pointing his thumb to the bathroom and watching the curious onlookers swap their faces to something that is...knowing.

"yeah." he admits now, standing with a proud hard-on and rushing his way straight the bathroom and opening the door.

There you are, already up on the counter with your pants fucking gone. He's so fast to slot himself between your legs, not thinking twice before attaching his lips to you in a desperate attempt to quiet his thoughts.

"took you long enough," you'd chuckle into his lips, feeling his desperate hands fucking tear your panties off of you before sliding in without so much as a moment of foreplay.

you both were anticipating this though. and god, did the wait make it feel so much better.

★sunghoon:

sunghoon will never defeat the allegations of being "too polite". which fucking sucks because no girl will come for him unless they're looking to get married within the next six months.

god, it's such a fucking issue. his scene isn't exactly to go out and hunt for girls to fuck but at this point he might just have to. fuck all those people who talk so highly of him. (literally, if he could at this point.)

"oh! sunghoon is such a good guy! he'd be the perfect boyfriend!"

"don't even waste your time trying to sleep with sunghoon, he's too serious to play around like that."

"he's too nice to fuck you the way you want, really, go for someone like heeseung."

because of all that praise towards him, he hasn't gotten laid in close to a year. no party he's attended has yielded results, no study sessions with pretty girls even when he tries to make a move, no pussy is willing to spread for a man who seemingly would treat it right.

fucking rude.

"jay, please."

the roommate rolls his eyes, grimacing at the very idea.

"why her?" jay shoots back, holding his phone so tightly, all while sunghoon grips his wrist as if he's gonna rip it clean off his body.

he needs that fucking phone.

"you said she was a real slut, i need this. please. I won't even clean her up after."

jay can see the desperation in his eyes, though he didn't entirely need to considering his roommate has been parading around with a desperate boner for the better part of six months.

"she's my ex girlfriend." jay scolds, ripping himself from sunghoon's grasp.

"exactly!" he shouts back, trying to plead his case. "she had like, what? six dicks not including yours when she was with you? why can't I just-"

"what makes you think i'd help you now after saying that?" jay rolls his eyes again, but he knows well enough how it feels to have heavy balls and no girl to empty them into. "anyone but her."

sunghoon's eyes light up when he looks at his friend, and it's not even a full ten minutes later before he's got a list of potential fucks recommended by jay himself. sunghoong does have to ignore the hateful looks after the fact, but decides he'll just apologize later for...you know, trying to go for jay's ex.

why he didn't do this sooner though? well, he really thought he'd be able to get some girls to come to bed with him on his own by now, unfortunately, he's grown far too pathetic to keep trying on his own.

jay's truly a great friend. just yesterday sunghoon was jerking off a solid eight times just to satiate the need and now he's got four of the six girls texting him back.

god, he was so gross about it too. barely even introduced himself, just sent a selfie and a small line of "been looking for a pretty girl to hang out with, jay say you might be interested."

going from 0 choices to 4 choices felt insane, honestly. sunghoon nearly cums in his pants at getting a "yes" from the prettiest one. and it only took an hour for him to hear jay greet you awkwardly. like he didn't have his dick in you just last week.

and goddamn is it great for him. he barely lets you into his room before his hands are just fucking....going. straight up your shirt, his lips go straight to your neck, cock immediately on your thigh and pulsing.

you're not too upset about it, really. you both knew what this was gonna be, and there was a reason you didn't wear panties. then again, who would? you saw his selfie, that alone was enough to get you to meet him pretty much anywhere.

and that desperation in him really showed. it bubbled up in the form of frantic, hard, fast thrusts. he chased and chased the pleasure, not at all giving you much love through it. not that you needed it, the guy gives good dick. It's all you can really ask for during a hookup.

and he keeps going, and going. so much cum to give, so much stamina. to the point that after the second session of sex, he starts to feel more like himself.

the sex gets better, less frantic, and he's more careful about how he's already made you sore. his hands are softer, he starts talking, he starts playing with you, appreciating you for letting him use you previously.

and by the next morning, not getting a single second of sleep, you're shocked when he asks for your number. you're even more shocked when he texts you later that day with more appreciation, asking to go to fucking lunch.

and that's when sunghoon realizes all those nice rumors about him are fucking true. because why the fuck does he want to make you his girlfriend without so much as learning your favorite color?

☆ jake:

jake loves you. he loves you so, so much. your virginity was never an issue, truly it wasn't.

emphasis on wasn't.

when he asked you to be his some two years ago, it wasn't an issue. a year into the relationship, it got a little difficult but he communicated that to you well enough. to the point that you were more than happy to compromise and offer a little bit of something to him. you got plenty out of it too, of course.

so, for a year now he's been surviving off of dry humping. that's it. just...grinding, humping, and messy jeans. time and time again, he knows it's all he's gonna get but fucking hell you're so...

god, you make him so horny. and perhaps you being just out of reach sexually only amplifies that but he can't help it at this point. sure, he cums every time you guys start grinding and kissing but more often than not you'll find him secretly in your bathroom shortly after with wet palms trying to stimulate himself in a way that he really needs.

in a way where he isn't rubbed raw and in pain the next morning.

he doesn't want to push. he won't push you. after all, you said you'd tell him when you're ready.

at this point, as he sits in his room sliding his palm up and down his sore length, he's unsure if you'll ever be ready and he's faced with the fact that he isn't sure if he can spend his life with someone who would never want him to-

his eyes roll back at the thought of all the things he'd like to do with you. for you. fuck, you'd look so pretty getting off. and it's the fact that even as he lays here thinking of you like this, he can't imagine what your tits would look like because he hasn't fucking seen them. he can't imagine what your pussy would feel like because he's only ever felt it over a thick layer of pants.

have you ever even gotten wet? if you had, he's sure you would've wanted it by now.

and so, he cums like that. very very upset. a very bad orgasm. one that didn't satisfy him in the slightest and one that definitely won't help him last through this fucking sleepover he has with you tonight.

he's unfortunately right about it too. because not even an hour passes before his cock is leaking against his pants and he's having to keep from moaning just from a simple shift of his leg as he walks around your apartment.

you note his difficulty in being around you today, and you're very aware of his hard on.

"jake, do you want me to sit on y-"

he groans before you can even finish asking. the sound is more frustrated than he's ever sounded towards you and it kinda...makes you feel bad. mostly because it's not like you don't think about it. you very much want to experience your first time with him. unfortunately, you've kind of had it hammered into your head that sex=bad. so, you've been a little afraid of it. though, after all the dry humping and stuff, orgasms aren't....so bad.

they're great, actually.

"no." jake answers you shortly, avoiding eye contact with you probably to keep his own sanity as he flops down on your couch. "i just need to cool down."

you walk over to him, unaware of how literally anything you do makes him want to push you to the floor and just fucking........take it.

"jake, you know you can ask. just let me sit on it." you offer, trying to straddle his lap for another session of not-enough.

"no, no." he pushes you away from him, moaning at the small pressure you did manage to press against him. "i think i just need, like, more than that right now. i'm gonna go to the bathroom."

and he does. he doesn't even kiss you before he stands up and makes his way in there. his tone sounds so focused on something that isn't you that it actually kind of hurts.

and this whole time you know he masturbates but you're never aware that he does it when you're here. he blatantly admitted to needing to go do it himself instead of letting you??? what the fuck??

and it kinda clicks in your head that like.....why is it that the fear of all that sex suddenly disappears when you think about the jake is probably going fucking insane right now? he's possibly losing interest in you, even. oh my god, what if he's going to go find someone else that'll ....

you rush to the bathroom, finding the door locked. you press your ear against it, feeling a pang of jealousy over nothing more than his own hand.

you hear the slapping of it, his palm hitting the base at a frantic and desperate pace.

you knock once. "jake?"

you hear him moan, the slapping only intensifying.

"jake, open the door. please?"

and he doesnt. he finishes before he even considers looking at you again, more for your own safety at that point rather than his own sanity. after all, had you of walked in and looked at him in the midst of a lust-stupor...well...

anyway, he opens the door and looks at you out of breath. instantly that softness is back in his eyes and you're already aware that it's time for a fucking talk. a make it or break it talk.

and hours pass as you talk. you explain, he explains, and you come to realize that jake truly is a person willing to do just about anything for you. he'd suffer for you, he'd lock himself in the bathroom just to cum so he doesn't have to ask you over and over again, just so he doesn't have to beg you or guilt you.

that's all it took really, to want to give him everything he needs too. two years of close to nothing and you never once realized how badly he needed it until now?

and the fear isn't there when it's with him. you see him struggle with his control when he finally sees your naked skin for the first time. you know he wants to go fucking insane on you but he knows he can't.

and he doesn't. he shows you that all those fears were useless. nothing hurts. his fingers are soft on you, in you. his tongue is warm and loving when he uses it all over you. and even when he slides into you for the first time, he contains himself. shushing you, letting you adjust, and then not needing to lose his mind because you do it for him.

working him about as quickly as he would have for you, never once did you realize how much you needed to feel full while enveloped in his arms. he just let you too, sliding back and forth, wiggling around on his cock with no rhyme or reason to how you move.

it feels so fucking good for him. to see you, feel you, watch you, fuck you. god, if he knew just this morning that this is what he was missing?? on god he would have had to tie himself up to just keep you safe from the lust that would've poured from his soul.

thankfully, he doesn't need to be tied down now. not with your legs practically doing it already, moaning for him, asking him for more.

he loves the words he truly thought he'd never be able to hear you say. honestly, all he can do is let you go insane, as if you've been the one needing this for the past two years. after all, now that it's happening, he's sure he'll have you like this again if the way you move your body on him is anything to go by.

[intoanotherworld23]

Breaking And Entering | SheriffJoel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel catches you breaking and entering into his house, and takes you back to the station to teach you a little lesson

Warnings: NSFW 18+, smut, dominant Joel, sheriff Joel, fingering, spanking, use of authority, mention of crime, implied sex

Word Count: 1.8k+ words

A/N: Comment, heart, and reblog if you guys wish for a second part to this to see what else will happen! Reblogs are encouraged and appreciated to share with others so they can enjoy! Thank you guys so much I hope you all enjoyed! XOXO

Hall of Hunks

“So you like breaking into peoples home huh?” Joel asked sternly as he bent you over the steel table.

“I’m sorry.” You whimpered pathetically as Joel’s foot pushed your legs further apart.

“Oh now you’re sorry.” He chuckled devilishly at your response, and wasn’t buying your pathetic apology. “I think you’re just sorry you got caught.”

You weren’t meant to get caught at all. It was just a dare that went too far, and you’re the only one he was able to grab. Your stupid friends dared you to break into the sheriffs house. Only thing is you didn’t expect him to be at home waiting.

Then he had no time in driving you back to the station throwing you in one of the rooms. There was something about the way he handled you, and looked at you that was dark. There was something much more than anger behind his eyes. You couldn’t quite tell what it was though.

“Please I’m sorry I wasn’t going to steal anything.” Hoping that would make things better, but Joel just ignored you.

“Were you by yourself or with friends?” Hands patting your legs squirming in his hold.

“Isn’t a female supposed to check me?” You asked turning your neck to get a better look at him.

“Shut the fuck up.” He raised his voice at you. “You lost that privilege when you decided to break into my home.”

“You can’t treat me like this.” Speaking out again.

“Better watch that mouth sweetheart or it’s gonna get you in big trouble.”

“Or you’ll do what?” You were really pushing him this time.

Joel was fuming at this point, and all he had on his mind was teaching you a lesson. The way you talked back to him like a spoiled child. You were just asking for a punishment. There was only one way that he knew for sure would work.

“Now answer me.” Feeling his hands now patting close to your area. “Who else was with you?”

“Nobody.” You lied quickly.

“I don’t believe you.” Joel responded as he swatted at your inner thigh making you jump.

Most people would be terrified being in this position, but right now you were incredibly turned on by how dominant he was becoming. You couldn’t help but feel you weren’t the only one feeling this way.

“I’m telling the truth sheriff there wasn’t anybody else.” Pleading with him to believe you. He still wasn’t buying it.

“I’m gonna ask you one more time.” His voice quieted as his thick hand pressed against your clothed core. “Was there anybody else?”

“What are you gonna do?” Whispering loud enough for him to hear fear evident in your voice.

“Whatever I want with you.” His hand smacking down where it laid your legs folding together.

The air had left your lungs, and it felt as if someone turned up the heat in this room several degrees. The only sound that could be heard was your heavy breathing. It felt like the room was closing in on you two, and there was no way to escape.

Quickly opening your legs back open for him. Feeling his hand back on you as he kept it there for a few seconds. He could feel how warm you were between your legs, and he was loving it. He was glad that you were feeling the same mood that he was.

You could tell him you don’t want this, and scream for help in hopes someone would come running in and stop all this. Instead you chose not to, and wanted more. You were hungry for his touch, and lust was all you could think about.

Joel rubbing his hand up and down the pants you had on the fabric pressing into your clit. A tiny whimper slipping past your lips. Biting down on bottom lip hoping he didn’t hear that.

“That feels good doesn’t it sweetheart?”

Joel grinned knowing exactly what he was doing to you. Putting more pressure on your core just wishing he could feel how drenched you were for him. He wanted nothing more than to reach his hand down your pants, and collect your juices on his fingers.

“Just tell me what I want and I’ll let you cum.” Joel whispered seductively in your ear pressing his now fully clothed erect cock into your backside.

Pushing unknowingly back against him to feel more as he kept rubbing his hand up and down more aggressively this time. Joel saw what you were doing and chuckled to himself. He let you keep it up for a little bit before pulling away from you making you cry out.

“Ah ah ah.” Pulling his hand away this time too. “Not until you tell me what I need.”

He already knew the truth that you didn’t work alone, but he was the one in charge right now, and he needed to hear you say it. Right now he needed you to submit so he could also get what he wanted.

“Okay fine there was others.” Blurting out finally telling him the truth.

“Good girl.” Patting your ass with praise. “See that wasn’t so hard now was it.”

Before you could even respond the same hand that was rubbing on you was now pushing your pants open. Pushing past your panties feeling exactly how turned on he was making you. Joel almost growled at the feeling of what he was doing to you.

“Fuck you are wet for me aren’t you?” You could only respond with a moan.

Able to easily slip his fingers inside of you pushing all the way to his knuckles. Your mouth hanging open as he pulled out and then pushed back in. Immediately starting a rhythm that had your body rocking against the table.

Pressing his whole body into you so that you were squeezed between the table and his body. Wanting nothing more than to rip yours and his pants off, and fuck you until tomorrow. He had patience though, and knew it would be worth it to hold out a little more.

“Is this what you wanted?” His tone condescending, and you felt ashamed for wanting this so easily.

“Yes yes yes.” You babbled out already feeling the pressure building between your legs.

Joel wanted a different response as his free hand smacked your ass harder this time. He wanted you to know he was the one in charge, and the one with all the power right now.

“You wanna say that again sweetheart?”

“Yes sheriff.” Responding back to him hoping that’s what he wanted.

“That’s a good girl for me.” He praised again his fingers going faster this time as his palm smacked against your pelvis.

The suction noises echoing in both of your ears hearing exactly how drenched you were. Feeling your ears and cheeks burning a sudden embarrassment washing over you. Joel was loving it though.

Maneuvering his thumb so he could rub your clit pushing you over the edge. Crying out as his hand grabbed your mouth to keep you quiet. Hushing in your ear, but never once stopping or slowing down his movements.

“Can’t have anyone know what I’m doing to you in here.” Whispering in your ear as he nibbled on it. “Can you imagine what they would say if they caught you fucking the sheriff?”

That’s the last thing you wanted for everyone in this town to hear about this. To know how easily you folded for him, and you broke into his house. Your reputation would be completely tarnished, and nobody would look at you the same.

Joel knew he had the upper hand here. He knew you wouldn’t say anything to anybody, cause they would probably take his word over yours. In fact Joel might even keep you around longer to do this again.

“Dirty little thief spreading her legs to keep from going to jail.” He kept going as if it was a shared secret between you two. “You’ll do anything to keep from going to jail won’t you.”

It came out more like a statement than a question because he already knew the answer to that one. He could tell you were the type of girl who would do anything to avoid jail time.

“Please.” Begging him feeling so close to release already.

“Please what?” He teased again knowing what he wanted.

“Please sheriff I wanna cum.”

That was all he needed to hear for motivation. His hand gripping onto your hips as his fingers literally drove themselves into you pushing and pulling your body. Clenching around his fingers as your hands gripped the edge of the table.

Joel’s fingers stayed still inside of you as they curved inside motioning in a come here action. Gasping loudly as you turned your head to bite into your arm at the motion. Joel having you right where he wanted you.

Your entire body was on fire right now. Your legs were already trembling, and you didn’t know how much longer you’d be able to last. Thank god for Joel holding you otherwise you’d have collapsed to the floor.

Joel’s inner beast was banging against the cage wanting to be let out. All he wanted to do was devour you right against this table. He wanted you completely at his mercy, and to hear you beg for his cock.

Watching as your body wriggled under his hold, and how you couldn’t control what your arms and legs were doing. It was like something was possessing you, and Joel was the reason.

“Fuck yeah I want you to cum for me.” Growling into your ear. “Want to feel the pussy cum around my fingers.”

That was all you needed to hear as your entire body tightened. Legs shaking as your orgasm came over you violently. Mouth hanging wide open as whimpers and moans left your lips.

Joel keeping you in place though against his body his cock really pressing into you. Imagining the whole time it was him inside of you instead of his fingers.

Your entire body felt defeated and weak. Not being able to lift your head or even move your arms. All that was just from him fingering you. Not sure if you were gonna be able to handle his cock now.

“Fuck I could tell you needed that.” Joel joked as he soothingly rubbed his hand up and down your back.

If you weren’t in such a state of bliss you would have felt so ashamed for what you just did. Not being the type of girl who would spread her legs for just anybody. Let alone the sheriff of this town.

“Am I free to go now?” Asking timidly wondering if he would let you go.

“Oh no baby girl,” hands gripping onto your hips harshly, “I’m not nearly done with you yet.”

“But I told you what you wanted to know.” Cranking your neck to look at his reddened face, and blown out eyes staring down at you.

“You still need to tell me your friend’s names.” That made your eyes go wide. “For that you get to cum around my cock.”

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Princess Ti

Pair: Husband!Tee Higgins x Chase Sister!Reader

Descr: The day everyone’s been waiting for is here, GAME DAY- wait something’s not right.

TW: language, mentions of sex, childbirth.

Picture Day | Main Masterlist

WC: 5k

....:::: * * •° ✾ °•* * ::::....

“Y/n, it’s almost kick off!” Your mother-in-law calls out.

You huff hugging your bump, looking at the shirt you’d usually be wearing for game day if you weren’t 41 weeks pregnant.

Usually, you'd be at the game cheering your husband and younger brother on from the stands, but that wasn't really an option this far along in your pregnancy. But you at least wanted to indulge in your favorite game day tradition: wearing Tee's jersey. However, that wasn’t going so smoothly either.

Your bedroom door opens, and Tee’s mom pops her head in. “You okay, darlin’?”

“I would be, but I’m still pregnant, so I’m not.” She chuckles and sits on the bed next to Tee’s jersey. 

“I know how you feel. You’re tired, antsy, anxious, moody. Little princess is really enjoying her time in there.” She offers you a kind smile.

“I think I made too good of home in there. Tee says there’s no better place for her to be than the womb. Of course, he would because he doesn’t have swollen ankles and an extra 30 lbs to carry on his torso. He was so scared I’d go into early labor that I think he convinced her to stay longer. 2 more weeks and she’ll be evicted via C-section, and that’s the last thing I want.” You pout, joining her on the bed.

“Hey, everything’s going to be fine. You’ve been doing everything right to get your body ready for this. She’ll come when it’s right. You said you woke up with contractions, right?”

You nod your head, “Braxton hicks. I’ve been dilated 2 centimeters for a week. Tee didn’t want to go to work, but it only lasted 15 minutes. The last one was actually before you came in, but it didn’t last long. It’s been like this since I hit 37 weeks.”

“Hey, you never know; babies surprise everyone.” You chuckle.

“I think I can fix this problem, though.” She points to the jersey. “Have a pair of scissors around?”

You go over to your vanity and dig out some hair scissors. She takes them and cuts a long triangle up the sides. “Here, now you can wear it and be comfortable.”

You slip the jersey over your white tee and admire her handiwork. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome; now we have a game to watch.” You happily link arms and join your mother in the living room.

“Y/n, your brother is driving me insane.” You roll your eyes when you see her eyes glued to her phone.

“What’d he do this time?” You sit between the ladies and hog a bowl of pretzels as she goes on about Ja’Marr’s post-game dinner requests.

You spend the next half snacking, yelling at the screen (not that you’d ever tell your husband), and listening to your mothers chat about their sons. You fell asleep during the start of the third quarter but woke to the same pain you felt this morning.

“I’m so tired of these fake ass contractions.” You hold on to your belly as the tightening gets worse. “Sorry for my language.”

Your mother shakes her head. “Babygirl, you’re in pain. No one is judging a few curse words, even if we both know you have a sailor’s tongue.”

“Momma, what-whatever, fuck- J told you isn’t- oh my god.” You grab hold of her hand as it’s held out.

“Hey hey, breathe, Y/n, breathe. Are you timing this?” Your mother-in-law nods as alarmed as yours. 

Your eyes squinched, teeth gritted, and you cried out in a pain you’d never felt before. “Mommy!”

“Yeah, baby, I’m right here.” You feel her free hand run your back. You try to do the breathing exercises she tells you and finally exhale when the pain dials down.

“Y/n?” You look up at the woman teary-eyed. 

“I lied, I don’t think these are Braxton hicks. They started a few hours after he left. I thought they were fake until they were happening every other hour. Now there’s even less time between them.” 

“I’m calling your midwife over and texting my son.” Your mother-in-law rubs your leg with a smile.

“Y/n, why didn’t you tell us you were in labor?” 

“Because I’m not. My water hasn’t broken yet, and they aren’t that close together. Tee’s not here. It’s not happening right now. If she wanted to come, it should've been this morning. It can’t be happening.” You shake your head and look up at the TV. As if on cue, your husband catches a pass and runs it to the endzone.

“Aww, babygirl, I know it’s scary, but this is what we’ve been waiting for.” She brings your head to her shoulder.

“The game isn’t over; we can’t just- ohhh fuck it’s back,” you whine as the contractions come back tenfold. You feel it everywhere now, your abdomen, back, pelvis- it was like you were being stabbed and electrified all over.

“Sarah is on her way over, and I called someone to get Tee.”

❁ཻུ۪۪♡

“Great catch, Tee! Great job, baby!” His teammates hollered as the wide receiver jogged over to the bench. 

The Bengals were winning 28 - 18 over the Browns, with both Tee and Ja’Marr catching each pass that came their way. Tee was all smiles as he sat back and took off his helmet. 

“That’s right, boy, show ‘em who's they daddy!” He chuckles as Ja’Marr hypes him up.

“Aight now, only one person can call me that, and she ain’t here yet.” They do their handshake with similar smiles. 

“Now that game gon be special,” Ja’Marr says before one of the sideline managers approaches them. “Hey, what’s the rush?” 

The girl looks at Tee with a sheepish smile.

He furrows his brows. “What’s wrong?”

She catches her breath and then speaks up. “We just got a call from your mom, your wife- Y/n’s in labor.”

“My sister’s in labor! Shit, I guess that day’s today.” Ja’Marr chuckles as his brother-in-law jumps up.

“I gotta go- wait, Coach- fuck.”

“Don’t worry, just go, Taylor knows. Go meet your daughter.” She smiles, ushering him off the field.

“I’ll catch up with y’all later. Take care of them! Good luck!” Tee waves as he runs into the tunnel.  

❁ཻུ۪۪♡

Your midwife, Sarah, arrived at the house minutes after calling her and, making her the third person in your presence who seemed to enjoy your pain. Then, before she could even examine you, you leaned over in pain and felt a small gush of fluids coat your shorts. 

On the way to the birth center, you were shifting between feeling extremely anxious, pure electrocuting pain, and intense worry. Everything was happening so fast, and the fact that your husband wasn’t here was making all your nerves go off. 

“Wow, this room is really nice. I had all my babies in a cheap ass hospital, so I’m not used to this kind of luxury.” Your mom praised as you settled into your birthing room.

“Momma, I’m begging you.” 

Tee still hadn’t arrived yet, it that, along with the fact that you were currently 5 centimeters dilated, was not helping calm your anxiety at all. Sarah and the two moms in the room were doing their best to soothe your aches, but nothing beats the comfort of being in your man’s arms during your time in need.

“Maybe you should rethink the epidural, baby.” Mama T suggests while tying your braids up into a bun.

“Yea, babygirl, it could help. It’s never too late to ask.” Your mom added. 

In return, you shook your head, unable to open your eyes due to the pain. “No, we had a plan. No matter how bad it gets, I don’t want them to take away any of my senses.”

 God, how badly you needed your husband. You wanted him to be the one rubbing your back and helping you through the worst pain you’ve ever felt. How could he not be here right now? He’s been waiting for this day longer than you and is late! 

“Where the fuck is my husband?” You grunt through your gritted teeth.

“He’s on his way sweetheart, just breath.” Sarah coos, earning a deadly side eye from you. 

“I’m going to kill him.”

“How about you think about how happy and relieved you’re gonna be when all this is over and your baby girl is safely in your arms.”

“Why did I let him do this to me?” You groaned, completely ignoring her. As the contraction subsides, you lay your hand over your eyes and let the exhaustion of labor pull you into a shallow slumber.

“Maybe we should start her on some Nitrous?”

❝ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

About Nine Months Ago..

“My boobs have been absolutely killing me.” You hiss as you palm the tender flesh. 

“Want me to massage ‘em for ya?” You catch the cheeky smile on your husband’s face through the bathroom mirror and shake your head.

“No, Tamaurice, that will make them worse.” 

“Awww, the government name. What did I do this time?” he lightly groans, shuffling into the bathroom like a sad toddler.

“Nothing that this can’t tell us.” You shrug, pulling a box out of a CVS bag. 

“Y/n?”

“Tee?”

“That’s a pregnancy test.” 

Ever since you and Tee got married, you kept a box hidden in the lower cabinet for emergencies. “Yes, it is.” 

“Why do you already have it?” It started as a gag gift from one of your friends. It was a Secret Santa party, and they thought it would be funny since you always joke about how much sex you and Tee have.

“Baby, it’s just a precaution. I could be just PMSing, but we have to rule out the possibility.”

“How many of these have you taken without me knowing?” Enough to know you want this one to be positive.

He turns your body to face his and perfectly reads the longing on your face. You want this to be the last one more than anything.

“Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to have a baby?” You shrugged, not knowing what to say.

“Y/n, I’m your husband. Remember that really expensive party on that mountain of snow? That was a wedding.” He chuckles as you slap his chest.

“I’m very aware that we’re married. It only happened eight months ago. I just didn’t want to be disappointed when you said no.” You frown, looking down.

“Hey, hey. Baby, don’t do that; let me see you.” His voice is calm and soft as he lifts your head to see his warm smile. “If you had told me you wanted to have a baby, I would’ve gotten you pregnant the second we got to the islands.” 

“Really?” He lifts you onto the counter so you can be eye to eye and smirks.

“Oh yeah, there’s nothing sexier than my wife walking around with my last name and my baby cooking for all the world to see. Fuck I’d love to see you pregnant with my jersey on. Then, by the end I get to raise a baby that looks just like you. I couldn’t be happier about that. Then after our little prince or princess is old enough and your ready, I’ll fuck you full of me again until there’s no doubt we’ll have another one on the way.”

Hearing him talk about getting you pregnant is so possessive, dirty, raunchy even, but all around absolutely amazing. He wants this just as much as you do, and maybe more. God, you’re lucky.

Grabbing his face, you smile as big as possible. “I love you so much, Tamaurice.” Then press your lips against his.

He chuckles into your lips and gently returns the kiss, wrapping your legs around him and hugging your body. “Ok baby, now don’t you have a test to take?” He asks after slightly pulling away, just enough for his words to come out clearly. You fully lean back and play with the braids on his neck.

“What if it’s negative?”

“Then I’ll spend the next few days making love to you all over this house, and we’ll enjoy every minute of it.” He said as if it was the sweetest dream he’d ever had, then pecked your forehead. “Okay mamas?”

Oh that name brought chills down your spine. You nodded as he lifted you off the counter and onto your feet. Taking a deep breath, you finally open the pink box and take out the test. “Will you stay here with me?”

“Of course, I will; now go pee on that stick mama.” He winks, slapping your butt as you walk into the water closet (private toilet). 

“I’m right here baby!” You roll your eyes but enjoy every bit of his enthusiasm. “I don’t hear any pissing, just giggling.”

“Oh my god, Tee, give it a second!”

“Want me to bring you some water? Actually I have a better idea.” Then he turns on the faucet. What’s not to love about this man?

Moments later, he hears a flush, and you join him back at the counter. “So…”

“We have to wait 15 minutes for the test to develop fully, " you said, putting the stick back in the box and washing your hands.

“You know waiting’s never been my strong suit.”

You roll your eyes and hop onto the counter. “Tell me a secret then.”

“Only if you tell me one.” He challenges laying his hands on your thighs.

“Deal.” You both smirk and count to 3 on your fingers. 

“Ja’Marr wasn’t the one who finished the rice and peas.”

“I hate making pecan pie.”

Your eyes widen while his jaw drops. “Baby, how the hell did you eat a whole pot of rice and peas?”

“Mamas, who gives a shit about the rice. You said you loved pecan pie. You asked my momma for the recipe!” Tee’s grip on your thighs deepens a bit.

“I said it because it was your favorite, and I wanted that second date! You can’t blame me for liking your fine ass. I would pretend to play flag football if it meant you’d like me as much as I did you. You know I hate running.” You whine, wrapping your arms around his neck and pecking his pouty lips.

His lips curve back up in a smile as he chuckles. “You do hate running, so you’ve made that pie every year on my birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas shit whenever I mention it all for me. You’ve never liked it once?”

You slowly nod, biting your lip. “Nope.”

A smirk grows on his handsome face, exposing his sparkly teeth. “You must’ve really liked a nigga to be doin’ all the cooking with no ring.” 

You snort, rolling your eyes as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “Of course I fucking liked you, have you met yourself. You’re probably the most charismatic, fine, intelligent, kind, sexy man I’ve ever met.” You smile, pecking his lips until he meets your lips with more force. 

After the short but sweet kiss, he pulls back from your lips but leaves your foreheads touching. “Damn, I don’t know what I did to deserve a woman like you. But I thank god every day for you. You know I’d do anything for you, too, right? Without you, I wouldn’t be the man I am today. After my first year in the league, I was feeling really low. Then, this angel walked onto the practice field and changed my life. There was no way I would’ve turned you down, not when you brought a light to my life I didn’t realize was missing.” You smile misty-eyed as he wipes away a stray tear.

“Shit, the only thing I regret in life is not buying you a ring sooner.” He says, causing you to scoff.

“Oh, two years was too late for you?”

“Oh, yeah. I was ready to be with you forever from day one. Your big-headed brother is the one who told me to wait, " he smirked.

You chuckle, laying a hand on his cheek. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. I’m yours, and you’re mine; everyone else be damned.” His head turns slightly, and he kisses your palm.

“Just me and you, baby.”

Then the timer goes off.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

When Tee finally reaches the birth center, he finds your mother pacing outside.

“Hey, mama J, what’s wrong? Is she alright? Is it the baby? Oh god, what happened?” He asks with his hands going to the top of his head, panicked and looking through doors to see if anything is happening.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here.” She sighs in relief, taking the corner of his shirt and dragging him inside.

“It’s bad, isn’t it? I told her I should’ve stayed home today, but she was too stubborn, and now-

“Now, she can finally relax because you’re here.” She smiles and turns into the room. You smiled immediately upon seeing the love of your life.

“Oh fucking, finally!” Tee lets out the breath he was holding in and rushes over to your bedside. “You took your sweet ass time.”

He chuckles at your grumpiness and lifts your chin for your lips to meet briefly. “I’m sorry, mamas, I got stuck in the pads and walked into a few walls trying to get them off.”

You press your lips together to suppress your laughter. “Okay, that makes everything better, " you say as the chuckles bubble to the surface. While you release your amusement, he admires how adorable you look in your soft pink gown, with your long braids pulled up into a bun and your large bump with a fetal monitor wrapped around it.

“I can’t believe we’re having a baby. How are you so calm right now? I’ve been freaking out since this morning.” He looks over at your contraction waves and goes bugged-eyed by the giant waves produced in contrast to your bubbly appearance. “What the hell?”

“She’s on nitrous.” His mom looks over, smirking. 

“Shit, momma, I forgot you were here.” He nervously chuckles as she walks over to her son and hugs him.

“That’s ok, you have more pressing matters. You should’ve seen her earlier, though. I thought she was gonna start swinging.” The pair look over at you, taking selfies in your hospital bed.

“Now look at her, giving birth and snapping pics, mm mm mm kids nowadays.”

Then, another wave of contractions hit you a bit differently. “Oh shit.” You raise and hug your belly. “Someone call Sarah right now!”

Tee’s brows scrunch. “What’s up?”

“The baby’s coming.” You take the oxygen mask your mom hands to you and take a deep breath. He comes over and puts his hand on your lower back.

“I know, that’s why we’re here.” You shake your head and grab his free hand, squeezing as hard as possible. “Baby?”

“There’s this pressure- a lot of fucking pressure. I feel like I need to push.” You groan out.

“Wait, you mean push push?” He asks wide-eyed.

“Yes, fuck! Oh my god! Fucking shit! Why the hell did I let you do this to me?”

“Ok, we need to order more nitrous.”

“Hello friends, oh Tamaurice, I'm glad you could join us today.” Sarah chimes, walking into the room in full gear.

“Oh, that was fast.” Tee remarks.

“I heard her from down the hall, so I assume it’s baby time!” Your midwife cheers, rolling her stool over to the bed.

Suddenly, all the anxiety from earlier about Tee missing your daughter’s birth evolves into anxiety about the birth itself. “Wait, wait, wait. Baby, I don’t think I can do this. We haven’t thought this through. I’m not ready. I can’t do this.”

“Hey hey hey,” Tee cups your face in his hands and takes in the immense worry in your eyes. “Y/n, you are way more than prepared. You know exactly what to do and have all the strength to do it. You’ve done an amazing job cooking and caring for her in there, but it’s time for her to be in your arms instead of your belly.”

“But what if I’m not a good mom? What if she comes out and we just fuck her up?” Your voice trembles as you lean into him.

“Mamas, you aren’t going to be a good mom- you’ll be the best. Every decision you’ve made in the past year was for her. Our princess is being welcomed by my queen, and my queen only gives her 110%. My queen also has a king who is willing to do any and everything for you. This king is also ready to meet his Princess Ti, and I bet her momma is too.” He pecks your lips and then smiles as your tears dry up.

“Okay, let’s have a baby.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The following two hours felt like a blur of emotions: voices of your loved ones urging you to push, the hands-on your body holding you up, the exhaustion of the labor wanting to take over. Then, it all fluttered away with a sudden relief and a sharp cry. You immediately slumped back into the bed, the exertion impacting every part of your body. You wanted to fall asleep right there, now that all the pain had drifted away and you felt at ease. 

Then you opened your eyes and saw her.

At first, it was just a tiny head of dark hair. Then your midwife turned around, and there she was, wrapped up in a pink swaddle cloth, one hand swiping at her light brown cheeks and big eyes searching the room. 

“Oh my god.” Your whisper makes her eyes dark right to you, and she lets out a whimper.

“You want your mama, don’t you? Come on, sweet pea.” Sarah coos and you gently place her in your arms. 

“Oh wow, you’re real.” You breathily whisper to yourself. The infant’s eyes stay on you like you're the only person in the world, just like yours stay locked on her. “Hi, baby.” 

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Tee leans over to kiss your head. You nod, stroking her tiny cheeks. 

“Yeah, she looks just like her momma.” He smiles, caressing her head.

“She’s amazing, I can’t believe we made her.” You sniffle. “Baby, we’re parents.” You smile, looking up at your husband.

“Speaking of, mom and dad, does our little angel have a name?” 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Tee says as he rummages through the bag he brought. 

“What is it?”

He comes back with three black circular velvet boxes, one twice as big as the other two. “Here’s the real reason I was late.” You watch him smile, puzzled, while he hands you the bigger one.

“What is this?” 

“These ones,” he holds up the other two boxes, “are for our little princess from her uncles J and JB.” He smiles, opening one to reveal a small tiara.

Your eyes widen, and a gasp escapes your mouth. “Oh my god, that is the cutest thing I have ever seen.” Tee chuckles as he removes the small cap from your daughter’s head and replaces it with the small crown.

“Joe’s been asking what he should get her for months. I kept saying something fit for a princess. And he definitely delivered. He reminded me to grab it from his locker before I left. He hid it very well.” 

“And the other one?”

“I’ve had this one for a while. I think it was about a month after telling Ja’Marr that he texted me saying he had something for me to pick up.” He opens the second box.

“He didn’t.” You look up at him in complete shock and take it out of his hands.

“Pure gold bracelet, anklet, and ring set, made by the same company in NOLA that made yours. It was so hard to keep it from you; every time you had a slight ache or pain that made your days long and tiring, I wanted to bring it out and cheer you up. Especially when we found out they went out of business. I know you wanted this for our baby girl so badly. J really pulled through with this one.” Your mom joins you, looking at the set in awe. 

“I didn’t even know he knew about that.” She whispers.

“Me neither.” You sniffle as your husband kneels, takes the small bracelet out, and clasps it around your baby’s wrist.

“There are more adjustable chains for when she outgrows this one, but for now, she’s perfect.” He smiles, kissing her tiny hand.

“What about this one?” Your mom points to the box he handed you first. 

“This one is from me to my beautiful bride, who I am forever thankful for and proud of for doing one of life’s hardest jobs and giving me my baby girl.” You blink away tears as he smiles and kisses your hand before sitting on the side of the bed and revealing the last item. “I told you you’d always be my queen. And since our princess already has hers..” 

“Tee, it's beautiful.” Your voice trembled as he lifted an almost identical replica of the tiara on your baby’s head onto your own. 

“Only the best for the loves of my life.” He wipes a fallen tear from your cheek and kisses your head. Shifting over in the bed, you gesture for him to sit closer, and he gladly scoots up next to you.

Sighing in pure contentment, you lay your head on his chest. “Thank you, " you replied softly, yawning, then gently passing the bag to your husband. 

“We gotta make sure the princess lives up to her name. Ain’t that right, Tiana?” He cooes holding her with one arm and you with the other, supporting her head with your body.

“Yea my little girl’s not gonna fall for those little f boy traps, nope. She has a daddy who will show her the universe, so no one can ever top it but yourself. My precious girl, Tiana...

You swiftly drift off into a deep sleep, listening to your husband make promises to her, knowing he will keep.

ʚ❤︎ɞ ᶫᵒᵛᵉᵧₒᵤ ʚ❤︎ɞ

A few hours later, after you’ve rested and fed your baby, Tiana receives her first visitor.

“Hey, family, where’s my Titi?” Ja’Marr sings, walking in your room.

Rolling your eyes, you nudge your head to where Tee’s sitting on the lounge chair next to your bed. 

“There she is,” he grins, sitting on the edge of the bed to admire her. “Wow, she’s incredible. You did a great job, sis.” He says, handing you two bags.

“Thank you, and thank you. How was the rest of the game?” you ask, opening the bag of steaming food, which fills the room with a mouthwatering aroma, and digging into your Cajun fries.

“It was okay. Most of the guys were worried about you. But we won, so all is well. They even dedicated the win to baby Tiana.” He chuckles, removing the beanie from his head.

“Holy shit,” you gasp, causing some of the fries to fall onto your gown.

He looks back at you, confused. “What?”

“Oh right, I forgot to tell her you buzzed your hair too.” Tee mentions it as if it was nothing.

“Bro, seriously.” Your brother questions, earning a shrug from your husband.

You continue to stare at him in shock but resume eating. “Did you do it yourself too?”

He shakes his head. “Hell nah, not after what I did to him.” You snort, thinking about the impromptu shape-up you had to give your husband.

“Yeah Tiana didn’t enjoy it either; she kicked so much that day.” 

“Baby, you sure it wasn’t because you overloaded on sugar beforehand?” Tee smirked, stealing one of your fries.

Before you can respond, you hear a whine come from his arms. 

“Oh, I'm sorry, Tiana. Are we not paying attention to you?” You smile at his ‘baby voice’ and look over to watch them interact, like everyone else in the room.

“Damn, she looks exactly like you, Y/n. Especially with the gold.” Ja’Marr winks.

“I still can’t believe you kept them a secret from me for eight months. I cried for days when they announced that they were closing down. I don’t know if you're the best or worst brother doing this to me.” He chuckled, wrapping an arm around you. 

“I think I earned brother of the year with that set.” You snorted, shaking your head.

“Yea, no, not with that haircut. Now go hold your niece.” You ordered, shoving him off the bed.

“Hey, that’s fine by me. Come on,  Titi, it’s Uncle Marr time.” He gave Tee grabby hands until the baby was passed into his arms then he took the seat.

“Thank goodness you don’t look anything like your dad. You might have his last name, but you got all the good Chase features.” Your husband rolls his eyes, joining you on the bed.

Wrapping his arms around you, he sighs softly. “That’s my princess.”

“I know, honey. Think about this: she might not have it now, but when she gets older, I know she’s gonna have your amazing smile.” 

“You think so?” You nodded, then kissed his lips. 

“I know so because that’s the only expression she’s going to know. She’s going to learn that she has the best daddy who always makes sure her momma is smiling. She'll never have to worry with you by her side.” 

He chuckled, showcasing his award-winning smile. “I love you and Tiana so much.”

“We know, right, Titi?” Your daughter wiggled in her uncle’s arms, trying to find your voice, and then a slight whimper started to bubble.

“Oh, come on, Tiana, we were having a moment.” Ja’Marr pouts as the baby’s eyes start crinkling.

“I guess I’ll give you back now, but I will be back, Titi.” He mumbles, handing her to you.

“Oh, my precious princess Ti.”

﹌﹌﹌ ꕥ ﹌﹌﹌ ꕥ ﹌﹌﹌ ꕥ ﹌﹌﹌

a/n: I don't think I've ever worked on a fic as much and as hard as this one. I'm very glad it's finished, so yall enjoy. The final part of this mini series will be out next week!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and encouraged if you liked this fic.

[licncourt]

Something I think is really interesting about Lestat's reasons for turning Louis in the books is how it sets up the primary point of conflict between them even before they've actually met. He tells us more than once that his initial attraction to Louis was his similarity to Nicolas, most importantly his ability to act as both a punishment and a conscience for Lestat, but this isn't really where the pattern starts.

Darkness is familiar to Lestat, something that's plagued all the formative people in his life and defined how they relate to him. Of course the Marquis and Armand have a great deal of violence in them, but so did Nicki and so did Gabrielle. By the time he comes to New Orleans, he's craving love, familiarity, and belonging. All of those things, to him, are synonymous with darkness. He looks at Louis and he sees the Marquis' anger, Gabrielle's coldness, Nicki's despair, Armand's hysteria, and all of it feels like home in a fucked up way.

By the time he turns Louis, the cycles Lestat is stuck in have driven him half insane and his reactions to his new companion show how unsustainable it's all become. Once the darkness he saw in Louis is directed at him (like he supposedly wanted), it makes him painfully, maddeningly aware of how different he himself is from the boy he once was. He's not a shining beacon of light in the same way he used to be or the kind of person who can rise above the darkness again and again, but he doesn't know any other way to live.

He claims that he understands and accepts his own evil, but his attempts to show the audience just how good he is at being bad seem rather pathetic and insincere, desperate almost. I think the whole idea of finding an "externalized conscience" to punish him for his sins is very Lestat, but it also drives an immediate rift between them. Louis being what Lestat thinks he wants and wants to want completely prevents him from being what Lestat actually needs, things that defy Louis' fundamental nature.

Lestat simply wants things that are incompatible with goodness by the time of IWTV, meaning that he's incompatible with the version of Louis that he brought into his life in spite of what he says in TVL about conscience and punishment. He makes Louis to “fix him”, but then hates Louis for doing the thing he was made to do because of how his sense of self has disintegrated. It's as if Lestat's body and mind are finally rebelling against the cycle of trauma that he seems to be unable to let go of. Half of him wants to be kept accountable so he can hold onto the past version of himself, but the stronger half is the one that has come to crave understanding and intimacy of what he currently is to such a degree that it seems to hijack that desire for punishment.

This is one of the ways that I think Louis IS a victim in the story. He's not the first or the last person to be chosen by someone who fetishizes darkness (mental illness, grief, violence, inner turmoil, whatever it may be) for one reason or another and then gets in over their head, turning on them for falling short as a partner because of it. Louis is acutely aware of this and mentions frequently that Lestat made a poor choice of companion, but at that point they're stuck and creating brand new cycles unique to them as Lestat fights his own. Lestat wants Louis to turn back the clock, to restore his humanity, but that's just not possible, and it dooms them in the first part of their story.

[seikkoi]

ꜱᴜɢᴀʀ | dom!tony stark x sugarbaby!reader ( ᴄʀɪᴍᴇ!ᴀᴜ )

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜰɪᴠᴇ [1, 2, 3, 4] | ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3

There was nothing that could keep Tony from having exactly what he wanted—and he deserved a little sweetness in his life. All he had to do was keep from ruining you in the process.

content/warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. non-canon, non-superhero au, sub/dom undertones, slight emotional/verbal manipulation, obsessive + possessive behavior, age gap (reader described as mid-twenties, t.s as mid-forties), mildly dubious consensual situations, explicit mentions of alcohol and drug use, generally not for the light of heart, rough sexual content, reader described as petite word count: 9.8k

There isn’t any conversation surrounding Pepper’s visit, or the divorce, but it’s all around you regardless.

Random items disappear from the penthouse–a Pollock (your present takes its place), some throw pillows from the study, and a few Turkish ceramics you never knew existed. The phone rings far more than you care for. Tony has far more meetings than you care for. A bespeckled lawyer and his blonde associate nearly become housemates, spending hours behind the frosted glass door. Natasha makes a few appearances as well, which confuses you the most. You find the spice in her perfume too bold.

On her third exit in as many weeks, you question Tony on it. He absently traces patterns on your calves, seemingly not paying attention to you or the film on screen. 

“Should I be worried?” you hide your sincerity behind a glass of wine, twirling the stem between your fingers. The red liquid mirrors the motion inside, spidering against the walls.

“About Natasha?” he asks incredulously. 

“Yes,” you draw out, “and you–all of it, really.” 

“Now why on Earth would you be worrying about me?” 

You would love to point out the obvious and address the building-sized elephant in the room that says  ‘you’re recently sober and just got a divorce’ but the look on his face tells you it’s unnecessary. 

Tony finds a way to answer the unasked anyways. 

“It’s a shit ton of paperwork, and signing things, so it’s annoying, yes but I am fine. Scouts honor.” 

He kisses your hand and grins with all the confidence in the world. It’s so fucking arcane each time–close to magic in how it undos every worry and mirrors his gleam. 

You wished it had more permanent effects. Something long-lasting and memorable. Easy to spread over the evening and into the early morning hours, when he’s inconsolable in your arms. You could turn it back into magic words. Banish whatever miasma racked his body and go back to peaceful nights (because you had those at some point, right?).

Being able to ask the hard questions doesn’t mean shit if the answer’s always a dismissive work of fiction. You never learned what caused their separation, or sent ‘everything to shit’ as Tony put it. Not because you didn’t ask, no that question came the same night Pepper did.  Apparently it’s the same driver of every modern American divorce–money. Tony summarizes the event as a fatal disagreement over corporate shares, though like always you feel you’re being told an official story. Clean cut with all messy details chopped away. 

“You don’t have a signature stamp at this point?” you joke.

“Oh no,” Tony’s hands brace your ankles to pull you closer, “ every squiggle needs to be authentic and fresh.”

“Right, how could I assume anything less.” Your eyes roll but you let your legs drape over his lap. 

“Seriously, I’m doing fine–things will calm back down soon.” A gentle squeeze drives the point home. 

A thought crosses your mind. An insecurity, really, but one you haven’t let go since meeting Pepper.

“If it’s like, I don’t know,” you hesitate under Tony’s raised eyebrow, “–I can head back to my apartment if it’s too much.”

Stark Industries was still footing the bill even though you spent less than 10 hours there in the last two months. There’s a fear in overstaying your welcome, or whatever it is you were doing here. Either way, you figured it was less than ideal to have your girlfriend around during a divorce. 

“If what’s too much?” 

“I don’t know, if you need your space right now or–” you answer exasperatedly.

“Honey,” he gives a hearty laugh, “if I ever start asking for space, call a doctor.”

All resistance becomes futile.

You keep your apartment (for unnecessary security), but more time lapses between visits. You issue a long overdue farewell to bartending. Even being driven, the commute to that side of town is hellish and the whole thing got more pointless with each day. You drank in the fruits of this life, but not without a tiny bit of unease. It’s unease that you bury down under all the other feelings. The affection, the simplicity, the serenity. So you swap mixers for paintbrushes and solitude for the man you love. 

Other subtle changes require a quicker adjustment, but you’re getting dangerously good at adapting. With Tony’s birthday past, you recognize a pattern to Harley’s visits. Every three months like clockwork. You begin to anticipate them well enough, and start appreciating his occasional presence during your early morning tea. By his third appearance, you brew two cups.

On the first visit he barely utters a word. You were ready for some witty insult that never came, and offered him a cup in silence. You want to ask why he arrives so early just to sit in his father’s kitchen, but opt for peace instead. 

Once Pepper’s placard is gone in the parking garage and Natasha stops showing up (at all hours of the day, atleast), he’s there a second time. 

“How he’s doing with the,” he trails off, peering at you over an empty mug as the sun starts to break. He doesn’t need to motion at the empty space for you to pick up his meaning.

The official story is dancing on your tongue. The one you’ve told two times over at this point (Jarvis, Natasha). He's perfectly fine, better even. It was a piece of cake then, but now you can’t seem to look Harvey in the eye and speak in half-truths. 

“Honestly,” you sigh, “Good–not good, I don’t know.”  You were dying under  the irony of it all. Consoling Tony in the darkness of morning and then watching him make million dollar deals by noon. You don’t know how he’s managing any of it, and if any of this qualifies as okay. 

Green eyes blink slowly through an overgrown fringe. Barbers were clearly scarce in the last three months, wherever he spent them. Exhaustion forces a yawn before he speaks again, pinching his nose. 

“Figured as much.” Harley stands for the sink.

He goes through the labor of washing the ebony cup, a rare quirk amongst the obscenely rich. You’d learned they are very reliant upon their quiet servants. You wondered if he did it out of modesty or good manners.  

“Do you know why they separated?” If he was in the mood to talk about Tony, you weren’t going to pass up the chance.

“Uh, something with the company, her share or whatever. Always about the money with them.” he answers casually, tossing a look over his shoulder. 

It’s genuine enough, but all too similar to the rehearsed lines. You half-expected him to call you nosy. 

“No real loss there.” Harley adds, a hint of disdain in his voice

“Not a fan I take it?” The flimsy tag finally crumbling under your ministrations.

He chortles as he slumps back into the bar stool. 

“Pepper can be, uh,” A yawn and an eye rub take precedence, “overbearing, yeah that’s a good word for it.”

“Yeah, can’t imagine that worked well for Tony.” You murmur into your tea.

“Oh it most definitely did not.” Harley laughs again. “Not for a guy that does the opposite of whatever you tell him.”

His laugh is infectious (like father like son), and you smirk even though instead the mental picture makes you cringe. A lull passes between you. Outside, morning traffic begins, trickling upwards to interrupt the quiet. It cues Harley to get back to whatever it is he comes here to do, while you move on with the day. 

As an advantage of all the free time, you get to invest more time in your estranged friendships. Being around old friends turned out to be surprisingly good. You had anticipated more awkwardness, but there was something comforting about not having to wear a mask for once around someone besides your boyfriend. 

At this point, you slowly filled in a few close ones about your relationship with Tony. Clearly you were in this for the long haul, and keeping things under wraps was becoming futile. The general consensus was positive, thankfully. Obviously, that’s due to a great deal of details being omitted. The act left a sour taste in your mouth. Not from the content–how easy it was. You hated to repeat such behaviors, but it was less complicated this way. You wouldn’t have to labor through justifying your relationship, or hear concerns you didn’t already have. 

Tony’s reception was, oddly, less positive. He didn’t care much for your old ‘starving artist’ clique. He thought you should take advantage of his access to New York’s greatest–the real pioneers. It took little arguing from you for him to drop that thought entirely, and he conceded to just be happy to see you happy. 

Like good friends, they tease about your newfound love. One asks when they’ll get to meet ‘Mr. CEO’ and you have to brush it off casually. You like your worlds better separate. 

A sweltering autumn soon becomes frostbitten winter. This gives you less light to work with, resorting to find shuddering shoulders in complete darkness. You don’t think it’s worth searching for warmer pastures or a simpler life. No, you order a cashmere robe and get used to seeing by touch. 

Late nights in the tower turn out to be a great place to hone such skills. The halls are narrow and void of any windows, so you ghost the pads of your fingers around for customary shapes. A cushioned nook and a neglected book lull you into a nap one evening and you wake past the sunset. If you were able to sleep so late undisturbed, Tony must be preoccupied. You planned to tiptoe into the kitchen without a sound, but your ears catch words murmured behind the glass. The door is cracked slightly, just enough to let a streak of light breaks across the hardwood floor

“–fifteen, ten, maybe if we’re lucky.” 

The bespeckled man’s words are measured, precise as usual. You can almost picture his lips barely parting to utter syllables behind round-trim frames. 

“Jesus christ–the fuck am I paying you for? Because I am paying you, like a metric shit ton” 

At Tony’s voice, you press closer. 

“I’m not the idiot getting a divorce.”

“Okay, okay, let’s just stay focused here.” Natasha raises her voice above the two men, and you hear a chair drag across the office.

“Uh-uh, don’t think you’re getting off scot free–we wouldn’t even be having this conversation if you did your job a tad better too.” 

“I will say it was ‘lot easier to spread the financials between two people.” 

Social norms concerning privacy start to get to you, urging your feet to pivot and take you back upstairs. Your escape goes undetected, and you seek refuge in the shower. 

You wash the day away under warm jetstreams. Part of your mind is stuck replaying everything, wondering how he was handling it all, trying not to indulge in the urge to check the sink drawer. In a flash, you toss the thought away. It’s easy to not overthink at this hour. Especially when coconut vanilla soap tugs you back towards exhaustion. You make it back out to the bedroom, where you find Tony removing his shoes at the end of the bed.

He smiles at the crack of light from the bathroom. Tony’s days were getting longer while the rest of the hemisphere’s got shorter. He would say he missed when life was simple, but he can’t remember such a time. Life growing up was anything but simple, then the older he got the more it sucked out every ounce of his energy. Everything after became, well, everything after.

Picturing a new future keeps him going. One in a coastal city, something global like New York but much, much warmer. He fights the urge to picture your silhouette amongst the waves. It’s not guaranteed. He might find himself in this dreaded cycle all over again. Then his coconut scented fantasy would be tarnished. 

No, it’s better to cherish the present with you. Like right now, watching coconut scented water droplets descended down your legs and shoulders. Even though he knows he won’t be here long. Truly, he’d wish you weren’t awake,  knowing he’d have to leave soon.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You teased, abandoning your towel as you pulled the dresser open.

He’s easy to rile up, and you know exactly what you’re doing–bending over slowly to pull your panties above your hips. You can’t help it when he stares like it’s his first time seeing you, every time. 

“Please don’t tempt me.” 

Tony’s voice is low, barely above a whisper. He’s unmoving on the edge of the bed, hands braced beside his thighs as his eyes follow the movements of your hands around lacy black fabric. Truly he’s perplexed. Who knew watching someone get dressed would be just as much of a turn-on. Or maybe it’s just you.

You toss one of his faded band tees on, and he thinks this might actually be better than any sun-soaked dream (it’s definitely just you). 

You cross the bedroom, the loose cotton brushing against your skin with each step. As you approach, you snake your arms around Tony's neck and straddle his lap. His large hands ghost up the smooth skin of your thighs, leaving a trail of warmth as they make their way to your back. The moment your skin touches his, Tony’s eyes lock onto yours, but you can tell his focus is elsewhere.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask softly, raking your hands through brown coils.

You assume his mind is still on the conversation downstairs, but the grin spreading on his face says otherwise. His lips move to pepper your exposed neck with kisses, still smiling.

“Really wanna know?” 

“Sure, hit me.”

The ghosts across your veins turn into full blown grazes. 

“You, in a bikini, drinking margaritas somewhere with no extradition laws.” 

You chuckle at the notion and swat his shoulder when his teeth find your pulse point. 

“Hey, you asked,” he laughs into your skin, gripping your hips tighter, “besides it’s your fault–’smell like I’m damn near there already.” 

Tony’s mouth turns hungrier and hungrier, moving feverishly across every exposed inch until the flesh is tender and you're panting in his lap. It’s just encouragement, so he doesn’t pause for a moment as his fingers slip behind your lace. They work at the wetness already ruining the fabric, dragging it across your length and making your shiver. 

Okay, sure, maybe another period of minimal alone time was getting to you, maybe. Sue me, you thought. Honestly, Tony should be more grateful to have such a willing partner–and you told him as much. Unfortunately, this elicited a need for Tony to instill a sense of gratitude in you.

In the next second, you're tossed onto your back, wrists pinned tightly above your head. His other hand pulls your panties down your legs and you try not to make a joke about the futility in getting dressed. Instead, you soak his weight against you, the roaming hand between your thighs and teeth on your neck. 

Marking you is the obvious goal-sucking harder with each breathy whimper. He wasn’t kidding earlier, either. You smelled good enough to devour and he intended on doing so. His danced along your folds, a cufflink scratching the supple skin at the top of your thigh.  They are never anywhere long enough to give you any real pleasure. Just to take more breath from your lungs and feeling from your legs. 

You squirm against vicuna dress pants, trying to gain more friction on his hand. Instead of catering to your needs, he stops all together and the noise you make is almost pathetic. Who are you kidding, it’s fully pathetic–it couldn’t have been over two weeks, and pleas can hardly form on your tongue for more. 

Tony reels back with a smirk that flips your stomach. A scheme is brewing behind darkened pupils. His eyes stay on you as his hand returns to your center, slow and heavy over your clit. 

He doesn’t relent when your wrists strain and hips buck against him. No, a tighter grip and knee over your hip hold you steady enough for his fingers to work faster. You want to chastise yourself for how much you missed this–then two fingers slide into you and there isn’t room to think of much else.

He moves quickly and silent, like a serpent, finding that perfect rhythm that makes your eyes flutter. Your soft moans fill the quiet space. He’s too steady, not changing a muscle as your peak comes closer. The most desperate you get, writing against his palm to get even one extra inch of depth, the slower he moves. 

“Did you have fun sneaking around?” 

Your eyes flutter open in the dim bedroom, Tony’s sly grin shining above you. It cuts straight through the fog of pleasure taking you over. 

“I don’t know what you’re–” you start to bluff. 

“You’re not very sneaky, you know? Or a good liar. That’s a particular skill set that you, my dear, sorely lack.”  Slow and teasing, he slides two fingers back into you.

“Okay, okay. Maybe I was eavesdropping a little.” He finally moves with purpose again, but of course not enough.

“A little? Let’s not start underrepresenting things, hm?” 

Before you can debate him further, he withdraws and you think you might honestly cry if this continues.

“Okay, point taken, would you please stop torturing me now?” 

“Now, why would I reward bad behavior?” he asked, lowering his gaze.

“If it helps, I wasn’t trying to.”

“It doesn’t.” 

His palms grip your hips, flipping you onto your stomach and lifting your waist upwards. The sudden movement leaves you breathless, searching for balance on your forearms until they’re pulled behind your back. 

“You know exactly which nerve to press, don’t you?” he breathes into the base of your neck, chest flush to your back as he hands work at his zipper.

How ironic, considering he spends the next hour tuning your body like an instrument. Knowing exactly where to press, where to ease off, until you finally unlock, bare and moaning into the mattress.

Afterwards, you fall asleep to the steady beat of his heart. 

You’re half way to sleep when Tony slinks out of your arms. At first, you don’t bother stirring. Then, the soft draw of the dresser catches your ear. 

You flip over onto your stomach to get a better view. You watch Tony’s shadowy figure attempt to quietly dress. For a rare sight, he abandons the tailored suit for dark Levis and a t-shirt. It hardly looks like him, in the best way possible (ignoring the obvious question of where the hell he planned on going in that. Less larger-than-life, more real. This, now this was someone you can imagine running into at the grocery store. The sharp edges of his suits always added a degree of gravitas to everything.

“Where are you off to?”

“Going to see a man about a horse.” 

He leans down for a bright smile and a quick kiss before he leaves, and you let sleep suppress any thoughts about what that could possibly mean.

You awake to a sun that has long outran the horizon. The sheer curtains were already pulled back, with the smell telling you Jarvis made a feast for breakfast. Tony’s side is empty. Which is no surprise there, but you don’t expect him at the kitchen table. 

He grins behind a newspaper as you approach. Jarvis is busy with the espresso machine, muttering curses under his breath. 

“Tell me, what are your thoughts on cyclamen–oo, or actually, narcissus, yeah, that’s better.” Tony asks like you've been having some sort of conversation before five seconds ago.

Jarvis clicks the tamper in with a satisfied click as you stare back confused. You’re two blinks away from falling back asleep and desperately craving something stronger than green tea. 

“What are you-Is-Are those restaurants?” 

“Oh, morning ma’am. Shall I prepare you a tea, perhaps breakfast?” Jarvis turns at the sound of your voice, wiping damp grounds from his hands.

“Good morning, but no, just some coffee, please.” You try to sound natural. It’s weird giving someone else orders. 

“Nope, flowers. We could do something simple like a peony but I don’t think that matches the whole vibe with the satin garlands.” Tony continues. 

“Tony, hon, I have no idea what you’re on about right now.” you groggily slouch in the chair beside him. 

“We, my dear,” the newspaper is folded and plopped onto the table for dramatic effect, “are having a Christmas party. The proverbial ‘we’ in this situation being the company, of course.” 

“A Christmas party?” you muse with a laugh.

“For tax purposes, a gala. For my purposes, and therefore to make it fun, it is indeed a party, yes.” 

Espresso warms your veins as you listen to Tony ramble through plans for catering, guests, decanters and a whole bunch of other shit you can hardly keep up with. Good thing that responsibility falls to Jarvis, who jots away on a worn notepad. Once your eyes fully open, the thought starts to excite you. Your yearly festivities normally boiled down to a bottle of chardonnay and some loosely Christmas film like Die Hard. “Plus, if I auction some art, it works out even more.” He punctuates his brilliant plan with a bite of a muffin. 

“That’s not like a massive trigger for you?” 

High-volume social events dropped off the radar recently, for good reason, you assumed (not that you minded a break from fake smiles and cold handshakes) . Instead, Tony dragged you along to more intimate dinners with whatever broker or councilwoman he needed to charm. Your role as plus-one never went anywhere, but doing so at Tony’s your home would give you more confidence. 

“What are you, my sponsor?” he teases but you're less amused at the thought. 

“You don’t even have a sponsor.” You know so, because Tony believes Narcotics Anonymous is a, quote, ‘sad-ass glorified tea party’. 

“I have Jarvis.” He’s completely serious, and Jarvis hides his laughter behind a stack of plates.  

You don’t want to point out the obvious cognitive dissonance. That a man who spends his nights in petrified somnolence might crack under the pressure of dozens of inebriated colleagues. Not now, in a moment of peace. Not in front of Jarvis. You’re not sure how much sound slips out into the hall.

Tony watches the worry creep over your face from the edge of his newspaper. With a sigh, he abandons it again.

“Look, all you have to do is look pretty–which is no sweat for you, maybe drink a few apple cider cocktails, and relax. I’ve got everything else perfectly handled.”

He gives you a look, both reassuring and decisive. It’s a simple message meant to be taken without debate, ‘trust me’. 

You get one more peaceful morning drinking tea in the dark with Harley before the holiday season.

The event overtakes your life from Thanksgiving onward. You really don’t know how this sudden festive fervor spawns, but it slowly creeps into everything. From the elevator music, to miniature elves by the door, to candy canes everywhere, and more Christmas ties than days in December (you can’t be sure he’s not switching them multiple times a day). 

You weren’t a total Grinch, not by a long shot. Tony just so happened to be creeping into that weird overly festive zone reserved for suburban moms and kindergarten teachers. 

“Tony, what’s all of this?”

Vivaldi plays faintly on the record player. There’s a delicately placed mistletoe just off of the elevator, accompanied with a haphazard trail of roses leading out onto the balcony. You navigate through a candlelight kitchen juggling a heavy box of resin. 

“Tony?” you call out again once the box makes contact with the counter,

“Out here!” 

You follow the voice and rose trail to the balcony. Unsurprisingly, he’s donning a god awful Christmas sweater, grinning and pointing to the wool like it’s runway fashion. A small table holds two covered silver platters, and a tall bottle of champagne rests in a bucket of ice. It’s the kind of overtly romantic display you’d gotten since night one, but it never fails to sink your breath straight in your heart. Something about the way he’s standing there, beaming like a nervous, lovestruck fool, tells you this isn’t just a normal gesture of affection.

Still, your lips part to thank him, but he stops you instantly. 

“Just wait–” he pleads, “I got like thirty minutes of practice into saying this and I can’t fuck it up.” 

His voice is rushed enough that you believe. Clearly the words were threatening to jump out of him. It sets you a bit on edge, trying to anticipate what this was about. You indulge him anyway and nod. 

Tony crosses the balcony to take your hands in his, thumb brushing over your knuckles. 

“Okay, I know things haven’t been copacetic around here. And I know I’ve asked for a lot–more than I ever thought I would–and you know sometimes it feels like I’ll never be able to return what you’ve given to me, but I swear I’m going to make this worth it.” 

He squeezes your palm, tired brown eyes searching yours for something, any sign that his words meant a single thing. It’s a fast-winded speech that makes you wanna laugh at the irony. Tony, the man who’d move the stars if they had a price tag, somehow feeling the need to repay you.  Yet his voice is raw like a frayed nerve. Exposed to the cold winds whipping against the tower glass. 

“Tony, you’ve made it more than worth it, everyday.” You smile, though it’s worth wondering what’s driving him to say all this. The words ring true regardless.

“Not nearly enough,” he says softly, “but I’m going to–I’m going to give you the world.”

In that moment, you see it: the weight of everything he’s been carrying. Your ribs seem to tighten inside your chest. That unspoken fear you’ve both been trying to avoid–it was far easier twenty seconds ago when you thought it was yours alone. You realize now that the fearless man you saw in fact was scared of something (losing you, primarily). Yeah, you comforted him through nightmares, but even then he managed to carry an aura of control.  

This wasn't about  holding onto the life you’ve built together, the one that’s felt so fragile lately. And for the first time, you see how much that matters to him, too.

He starts to say something else, dropping your hands. His fingers fiddle behind his back, seemingly nestled in his back pocket. He stares like he intended to say something else, lips parting and closing right back. In the next second, he seems to shift gears, pulling you into a hug. 

You welcome the warm embrace, as the chill has started to gnaw at your bones. He plants a kiss to the top of your head, and you want to stay in that feeling for the rest of your life.

Sadly, he does eventually pull away to admit dinner on the balcony would be quite miserable, and the two of you move inside. 

You could spend the rest of the evening overthinking about what all that meant, but you don’t bother. Why go through that mental labor, when instead you could drink $500 champagne, carefree while your handsome boyfriend flirts with you like it’s the first date. 

You don’t think about it then, or later in the night when your legs are pressed to your chest and you can’t recall a single thing he said. You focus on what he’s saying then–filthy words about who you belong to, and exactly where you belong–a whimpering mess underneath him.

Even when it turns possessive (more so than usual), when your throat is littered with marks and his hand stands to leave another on his hip, you don’t think of it. But it’s the only thing on Tony’s mind. When another orgasm rips through you, all he can think about is how much he needs you. He whispers ‘you’re mine’ over and over and over as you fall apart just so your broken moans can still echo–so he can hear just how true it is. How could you, with such a dutiful guide at the helm?

Afterwards, when you’re drained of every ounce of life, it still doesn't bother you. You don’t wonder if tonight might be another night he slips into plain clothes and disappears until sunrise. You can’t muster a single thought as his arm slinks around your waist to pull you closer. 

You simply close your eyes, and let sleep take you. 

Eventually the days tick by to the gala, and you’re somewhere between impressed and overstimulated with all the ensuing holiday glamor. 

Though, you can’t say he doesn’t go all out. 

The first floor of Stark Industries is transformed from a cold minimalist space to Ebenezer Scrooge's worst nightmare. A makeshift stage sits at one end, complete with enough tinsel to suffocate a horse and twinkling garlands. Piles of fake snow anoint the corners, and a particularly large one sits beneath a 12-foot tall Christmas tree in the middle of the lobby. The open bar even serves drinks in frosted holiday glasses. He even has the guards wearing reindeer ears. 

By ten p.m. the vast floor seems smaller than a shoebox, packed with guests in evening gowns and tailored tuxedos. Initially, you’d planned on wearing a new piece for the gala–something to make the overwhelming festivity Tony demanded. Once it came time to get dressed, your eyes caught the sanguine dress. You hadn’t gotten the chance to wear it since your first date. It had felt too exquisite for any other occasion, but for some reason you were drawn to wear it tonight. 

You wish you could say Tony had a good reaction–or a reaction at all. From sunrise until the doors opened, he’s caught up in planning and preparations. Matter of fact, you were two hours into the gala and had only seen glimpses of him shaking hands in the crowd. It takes away from the expected familiarity. You imagined this night to be simple, easy for you to blend it with Tony on your arm, in his home your home. Instead, you wander like a lost gazelle, feeling every pair of eyes on you. You want to blame the dress. Revealing and bright red.

In the blurry swarm of faces, bright auburn stands out. Natasha wouldn’t be your first pick, but she’s the only familiar face and you need a respite.

You squeeze in next to her at one of the corner tables. The spice of her perfume permeates your nose but you can look past it for the moment. She pays you no mind at first, legs crossed and head turned to the crowd. You don’t mind one bit. It’s quieter towards the back, and you have no issue with it staying that way. 

Natasha sighs deeply, almost in boredom, maybe annoyance, but not with you. 

“I don’t know how you stand him.”

“How do you figure?” you respond absently, picking apart at a stray piece of tinsel.

“One of the richest men on Earth-I know he’s got the ego to match it.”

“You’d know better than I would, wouldn’t you?” you answer. You’d gotten the sense Natasha and Tony back way further than him and Pepper a while ago,

“Touche, but I’m not dating him.” she shifts to take another sip from her glass, “though, I’m not really sure why you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you really love him, or are you just after a family fortune?” Emerald eyes points like knives, her tone blending from casualty to scorn.

“W-what,” you stammer, “Of course I love him–Tony pursued me.”

“Please, he’d pursue anything with a pulse,” Natasha chuckles, “and relax, I’m just finally getting around to doing my due diligence.” 

“Your ‘due diligence’ is being a cunt?”

“Ooh! I see you’re a feisty one–you did sit here after all, you know.” she muses.

“Just needed a break from the crowd,” you mummer, rising. 

“Stay then–relax, like I said.” she gestures towards your now-empty seat. When you sigh and retake your place, she smiles. “I like you, you know.”

“We’ve barely spoken.” you declare, a dry chuckle spewing alongside. 

“That doesn’t mean I don’t know a smart person when I see one.” 

“Smart?”

“Smart decisions, going out with Tony, not screwing that up, though I’ve been told you’ve come close a few times.”

“Who–”

“This isn’t an interrogation, like I said, I like you–I don’t really care what happens between you two.”

“Then what is this?” you flag the nerdy tuxedoed waiter for a glass of water. 

“You said it yourself, we’ve barely spoken. My job is to keep Tony’s business running smoothly, and that’s become a lot harder since he won’t make a single decision without considering the ‘y/n’ of it all.” 

You scoff, unimpressed. “We don’t talk about his business.”

“Oh, I know,” Natasha remarks, “A bartender has no idea how to run a billion dollar corporation, and even less of an idea how to advise one.” 

“This is the part where you tell me I have no business being with him, right?” The waiter drops off a tall pitcher of water for you both. Once your glass is full, he passes along a message that Tony’s speech starts soon. 

“Dear god no,” Natasha laughs, “I imagine you’ve heard that enough–and he’s much more pleasant since you came around. Besides, you’re living the dream.” 

“Is that so?” You have to give a laugh of your own (considering you had a bit of jealousy buried for her). 

“Oh yes, filthy rich, live in a penthouse, never work another day in your life, loving husband–maybe not my dream, but still a dream.” 

You don’t know if she’s trying to be funny but your next laugh is genuine, and she joins in.

“What is your dream, then?” you question.

Natasha’s grin stiffens, surprised. Contemplation passes for a second and you worry that you’ve underdone the last three minutes of camaraderie. 

“Ballet teacher–but that stays at this table.” She gives you a matching pointed look.

“My lips are sealed.” You do try not to giggle, but it’s odd to imagine her frigidity in a warm lit studio surrounded by tutus. 

“Did you mean it, what you said about Tony? That things are...okay?” Natasha asks, referring to Tony’s sobriety. It’s weird how everyone dances around it, especially someone so usually straightforward as her. 

It was weeks ago when you parroted that claim. And you only call it that because the question annoys the fuck out of you. It’s entirely subjective, and you give in to the optimistic look in their eye and tell them what they want to hear. He’s fine, better even.

Maybe it’s because she’s being nice, or because you already gave up this facade with Harley, but you can’t be bothered to pretend you know what’s going on with him all the time. Besides, clearly you weren’t doing a good enough job for her to ask you about it again

“I want to say yes, but I don’t know, I guess?” you admit, staring into the crowd. 

Natasha’s mouth parts to speak again, only to have the microphone’s feedback interrupt her. The host–some Nobel prize winning chemist Tony invited to pull donors–clears his throat before starting his introduction, and the noise draws to a lull. Natasha excuses herself, presumably to find Tony before his speech. You decide to stay at the back of the lobby, with a good enough view of the stage. 

Supposedly this entire sordidly festive affair had a true business purpose, some big announcement Tony was making on the ‘future of the company’. He didn’t explain much more than that, and you’re certain the technical logistics were beyond you anyway. 

After a long, boring welcome, the mic is passed off to Tony. It’s the first time today you’ve been able to see him fully–draped in a jet black tuxedo and bright red bowtie. 

It whines again in his grip, and Tony pauses once the cheers die down, glancing at the expectant faces below. Thick cards press into his palm, each written meticulously inked by Natasha last night He clears his throat, glancing out past the lights into the crowd. He hopes they can’t see how heavy the stillness starts to weigh on him like before. The sudden quiet, all that attention. Including yours, somewhere out there. His heart stalls at how must look to you up here. Larger than life probably, or maybe you weren’t looking at all (he hopes you aren’t). A hundred odd pairs of eyeballs, and he hides from yours. 

Tony knew what he had to do, and was quite confident in his choice. But he can’t risk looking you in the eye while he does it. Ironically, his decision had very little to do with you, and everything to do with Pepper. The edge of his mouth still twitches. 

“Tonight…” he starts, turning the twitch into a warm smile, “…I’ve asked you all to be here in celebration, to celebrate Stark Industries, and talk about the future of the company,” He clears his throat, rolling his shoulders as if trying to loosen some unseen knot.

There’s a small, brief ripple of confusion among the front of the room, murmurs. Something shifts in his expression—just a flash—before his eyes catch something and harden. A gesture is made to the guard at the end of the stage. His hand tightens around the mic.

“To keep things transparent,” he says, stuffing the cards into his pocket, “the real reason I threw this party, asked you all to be here, is because I want everyone to see how much this means to be.”

Your ears perk up. Natasha swears under her breath, glancing at you before sharply leaving the table, tapping away at her phone. Tony can’t hide from your gaze anymore, and he finds your confused face in the back corner. Before you think about a path to escape, the crowd follows his attention, taking their eyes from the billionaire to the nobody fiddling with tinsel alone.

“I want to celebrate the love I have for this woman, and take this opportunity to share it with everyone.” 

What the hell is he doing?, you think. He can't be doing this here, like this. 

“The truth is,” he pauses, feeling his phone buzz off the hook (most certainly Natasha telling him to stop), “I’m getting married, and Stark Industries will be welcoming a new partner in its operations.”

The room erupts in a chorus of oos and awes, all to the tune of your racing heart. It takes you a second to process. He means getting married to you. You never even talked about marriage, the future, anything like that. Yeah, maybe in passing the idea came up, but at no point did you accept a marriage proposal. 

Everything feels nauseatingly blurry after. Random individuals come over with their congratulations, while half the crowd stares and the other half still bothers to listen to the rest of Tony’s speech. It’s a bunch of nonsense about restructuring and profits, and you’re too confused, pissed, and too fed up with fake smiles to bother standing around to listen. 

You suffer through two more superficial conversations about the marriage you were only made privy a few minutes ago. Finally, you escape to the restroom. You find an empty stall to hide in, trying to process what was going through Tony’s mind.

He couldn’t be serious, could he? This wasn’t real–it was some ploy or tactic. He didn’t genuinely intend to marry you. You didn’t like to think of the long-term for the same reasons you didn’t think about the short-term. This was unpredictable, you learned that. You learned to be okay with that. You could soak in the pleasures indefinitely without ever worrying about how it might all end. This, this brought it into a sharp focus you weren’t ready for. 

You’re not even certain he’s fully divorced yet. 

Once your palms finally dry, and the threat of a panic attack fades, you step out of the restroom. You don’t even know what to think, and the sterile walls weren’t helping. Glancing back toward the gala, you spot Tony scanning the room—until his eyes find yours. You don't hold his gaze long; instead, you turn sharply toward the elevator. You hear your name faintly called from somewhere behind, but you keep moving down the hall, ignoring it.

He breaks into an awkward jog to catch you. You keep your eyes forward.

“[Y/N], look I know this wasn’t what you were expecting, and I can explain I just need–” he starts,

“You’ve lost your fucking mind, Stark,” Natasha heels stomp angrily down the hall, stepping in front you to point her finger in Tony’s face, “what the hell are you doing?”

“Alright, alright, not you right now–cut it out!” He smacks her hand away flippantly, “I’m not entirely sure you and Matt haven’t been drinking the kool-aid either.” 

Tony huffs and straightens his bowtie and you step back from Natasha’s heat. Behind the three of you, someone gets their hands on a karaoke machine and a terrible rendition of Santa Baby follows.

“The whole point of this bullshit was to go public and get out of this shit so explain to me how this gets us anywhere closer to that?” She grits.

Tony throws his hands in the air, “Maybe it doesn’t, but your dumbass plan wasn’t any better.”

“You think marrying her is going to help you? You know I was joking when I said that, right?” 

Suddenly, a spotlight seems to beam over you. Neither party stops their death glare to fully acknowledge you. That wasn’t a proposal–you were just some pawn in their game.

You don’t even know what the hell they’re playing for.

“This is a great time to remind you who signs your checks.” 

Only then do her eyes bother to glance at you. 

“This isn’t gonna end well, and you know it.” She concedes, still stern. After that, she stomps back off into the crowd. 

Tony turns towards you, but you're already back at the elevator, watching the buttons finally reach L.

“[Y/N], please–” 

The doors ding open and you don’t stop to hear anymore. Despite your feverous attempt to close the doors, Tony makes his way inside. The door just barely misses his coattail, to your annoyance.   

Even worse, and completely on par for the evening, the jingle bells elevator music plays the moment the doors shut. 

A hard, awkward beat passes. You’re pinching the bridge of your nose, sparsely emptied of any more energy for this night (mentally or otherwise). 

“You look fucking stellar, by the way, love that dress–”

“Tony.”

“Right, you’re right, sorry.”

Neither of you spare another word from the elevator to the bedroom. Tony follows behind, closing the door softly as you toss your earring onto the dresser. You’re waiting for him to speak again. Explain, deflect–hopefully just explain, but he doesn’t. He sits at the end of the bed, eyes trained to you in the mirror. 

“Why didn’t you ask me? Alone? Before today?” you sigh, “

“I wanted to, I was going to, the other night on the balcony I just–” he answers quickly, but trails off in a way that has you turning to face him instantly.

You don’t doubt that for a second. Truthfully, the level of effort and random heartfeltness of the night gave you some clue. But, when it never came you just chalked it up to Tony being Tony. Painfully romantic in most conditions. 

“You just what, didn’t want to?” There’s anger, though you know it's hypocritical. 

“No I just,” he exhales, dragging his fingers through slicked back hair, “I knew you’d say yes.”

“You knew I’d say yes? What the hell does that mean?” Your necklace joins the rest of your jewelry with a loud clink. 

“This is coming out all wrong–”

“You think?” The six inch heels are the next thing to go, throwing haphazardly in the closet. Tony rises to cut you off in front of the door, eyes pleading for understanding you’re not sure you have. 

“I saw the look in your eye, I’d done so much to make sure you’d say yes in that moment because I needed you to–not because I wanted it and that wasn’t the way it was supposed to go.”

“You don’t know that I’d say yes.”

“You would,” he says with that practiced charm, all sunny but hollow. A trademark Stark move—confidence teetering on arrogance. When you hesitate, he’s ready with another word, a gaze intense enough to hypnotize. “You know you would.”

You laugh, looking away as if it’s absurd. “Are you really so sure?”

His hand slips into yours, gentle but firm, thumb brushing across your knuckles in a way that makes it seem like he’s talking to you, only you, and not the thousand voices in his head screaming at him to get this done. 

“I know you’re scared, but” he says, leaning into your warmth. “Don’t leave me hanging here, please.”

“You sound so desperate, it’s kind of sad.” 

But there’s a softness to your voice now, a hint that he might be getting through. For a moment he was worried he wouldn’t be able to get away with this again, that you’d learned all his tricks since the boutique. 

It’s enough of a crack in your resolve for him to keep pushing. He slips closer, voice low. 

“Look, I know I keep asking a lot of you, but, There’s a pause, just long enough to let the ache in his voice sit, before he adds, “this could fix everything, everything can be okay.”

There’s a sliver of doubt in your eyes, and that’s what he clings to. 

“And when was the last time everything was okay, Tony?” You watch him in the bureau’s mirror. 

 “It could be. All I need for you to do is say yes, so I can fix this,” He squeezes your hand, the hint of desperation all but veiled now. 

And when you finally exhale, when that flicker of sympathy slips in, he knows he’s won.

It’s good enough. Better than he hoped, honestly. The relief slides into him like a tonic, loosening the tight lines in his jaw. He keeps his hand on yours, knowing the warmth of it will serve to distract from the creeping dread, from the hollow pit that’s been widening ever since the stakes got so high he couldn't see the top of them.

For Tony, this is all still just a means to an end. One step closer to true liberty and the life he was supposed to have. If he had to lie and disappoint–cheat and charm, then he’d do it. It would be worth it. In the end, the sum of his achievements would outweigh his sins.

He reminded himself of that a month ago, the night before he decided to have the gala. When the bedroom door closes, a sigh of relief escapes. He was lucky that you didn’t catch the conversation with Matt and Natasha in full. What he had in the works was sensitive, and he couldn’t have that ruined by anyone knowing the details in advance. He couldn’t lose you again, not when he needed you most. 

There is a shred of guilt as the elevator whirs down to the garage. You’re probably thinking the worst, understandably, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Only to pray his love was enough to placate you for now. 

Especially when he doesn’t even want to fucking do this. Each day seems to come at the loss of his autonomy, another suit on his payroll telling him what’s best for his life. It’s more deplorable when the people closest to him come up with the shittiest ideas to fix this. He can truly thank Pepper for his recent migraines (and a bunch of old ones). Filing for divorce was quite a move to try to get what she wanted, and throw him to the mercy of the Securities and Exchange Commission at the same time. If you listen to Matt, Tony’s mere minutes away from a cold cell. If you listen to Nat, Tony’s plummeting stock will be the sealer of his fate. And as of right now, two of the smartest people he knows can’t come up with anything that doesn’t come at the cost of you or his company. And he can’t live with either. 

Since, both their solutions arguably suck, he tells a lie or lack thereof to find a third opinion. Or a hail mary. However it’s called, it’s a long shot that he can’t be certain won't jeopardize him even more. 

The drive to Hudson Valley is peaceful, to the point he forgets his world is on fire. It’s late, or early, depending on who you ask. Few cars grace the road and he finds solace in the solitude. The radio is ignored for the repetitive rumble of the tires, until paved tar turns into rough gravel. 

When Pepper sent over the address, he wasn’t too surprised. She always rambled about moving out of the city, dreaming of cabins in the woods and sprawling hills. Tony could never wrap his head around living anywhere else. In retrospect, that was another early omen. They never even shared the same dream. 

He can’t say it doesn’t look impressive. A dark a-frame that strikes beautifully against the earthen spruce. Maybe that is why she had him drive all the way out here and not somewhere in the city. Part of masterplan to show him what she presumes he’s missing out on. 

The porch lights flicker on once he parks, and he makes his way up the stone path to find Pepper sitting just outside the door. She’s preoccupied with a thick novel, acknowledging Tony with the raise of a finger. 

It’s strange, being alone with her for the first time in years. She’s not dressed in Valentino but tattered college sweats he had forgotten about. Seeing her at the penthouse all those months ago was troubling, but this was different. Here, it’s too quiet. Even though he’s a few paces away from the table, he can hear the tension of her nails against the pages–the swirl of wind through her hair. Sure, she can’t control the environment but he knows this is a calculated move too. To make him wait, make him uncomfortable. Every other sense sharpens in the absence of constant noise. Norway spruce and duplicity. 

He’s losing his nerve and he needs this over. 

“Why the hell’d you make me drive this far out anyway?” He tries to keep a level voice, knowing she wouldn’t hesitate to use his irritation against him. 

“It’s the one place I’m certain your little spy hasn’t found yet.” she murmurs.

Okay, fine, so he’d used his son to spy on his ex-wife. Big deal, he couldn’t be certain she wasn’t doing the same. Plus, Harley had offered to keep an eye on her. It was a matter of security, not personal (mostly). 

“Can we get on with this?”

“I suppose,” she sighs, tossing the book onto the table. The thud reverberates, stark against the stillness of the valley. “But I’m not sure what it is you want from me–you did call me after all.”

“I did.” And he’s regretting it every second.

“So, what can I do for you?”

“You can start by accepting the deal Murdock sent, and let this be over.” 

Pepper chuckled, crossing her legs. “What are you playing at, Tony?”

“I’m not playing at anything–this needs to be over, you need to move on.”

“Oh please, don’t flatter yourself,” she scoffs, “this is all very rich considering you’ve held me in litigation for months, you rejected my offers over and over, so why the sudden change of heart?”

A cold chill and burning annoyance pull him closer to the table. 

“Yes, because I should just give you forty-five percent of my company–I can get it gift-wrapped too if that makes it all the better.”  

“That’s right, your ego won’t let you admit I’m the only reason you have a company to speak of.”

“Can’t you find an ounce of compassion in that gaping pit you call a soul, for me?”

“Such harsh words from someone who needs something from me.” Pepper smirks and stands once the heat recedes from Tony’s face. 

“Take the twenty percent, finalize the papers, and end this, or else there won’t be anything for either of us.”

She circles the table to stop in his view. Tony wishes he had a time machine.

“Let me guess, someone’s under a little heat.” she muses, voice high and dripping in sugary venom.

“Little is an understatement.” He steps back, hands tight in her pockets.

“And why would I give up my shares to help you?”

“This entire thing started with you, and the second it wasn’t convenient you ran. The least you could fucking do is help me out of it.” Tony snapped. 

“Right, and if I don’t?” 

She still laughs, because it’s all a good game to her. Entertaining to see him against the ropes–desperate enough to reach out to her. For once though, it’s calming. It soothes his anger and reminds him why he agreed to this at all. This time, he had an ace up his sleeve.

“Then I’ll tell just that to whoever needs to know–you know I have the evidence. You’ll go down right alongside me.”

In the quiet solace, for a moment, she’s outplayed. Her smile falters and brows crinkle. Truthfully, as much as he’d love to, he could never sell her out. But she had a terrible tendency of assuming the worst of him, and he was banking on that. 

“Please do, I’m sure they’d love to hear what I know about Obadiah.” 

Oh, so that was her ace.

A soft buzz vibrates his back pocket. He doesn’t need omniscience to know it’s you. He can picture it clearly–you, traipsing around the penthouse looking for signs of life. He knows you hate that feeling, and he hates to cause it. 

There’s a more pressing issue; not giving Pepper the emotional reaction she wants.

“You wouldn’t do that.” Spare words from some forgotten bin. 

“Not if you don’t force my hand.” 

A painful pause ensues. The valley’s fauna recognize the tension, silencing out of respect for the sound of Tony’s plan shattering. A true stalemate. Not what he came for, but his throat swells thinking about the aftermath from a war of attrition. 

He can’t let that get out, above all else. That’d be his dissolution. Stark Industries, everything he worked for would vanish. You, without question. You never see him the same again. The crafted image he sought, the life he was creating with you for you, it’d be wasted effort. 

“What’s it gonna take for you to help me?”

After another migraine-causing conversation, Tony slumps into the driver seat, shoulders heavy and eyelids even heavier. Fifteen minutes have passed since your text, and he wonders if it's better not to answer at all. 

[ everything okay?  ]

[ be home soon ]

Ignore. Deflect. Move on.  

The drive back to the city is less pleasant. Actually, it’s a nightmare that he disassociated through the moment he entered the garage. He was, tragically, fucked. There was no telling if he had the capital to replace whatever Pepper took, and he certainly couldn’t risk everything by going public. And if he didn't give Pepper what she wanted, he might be looking at a depressing future behind bars. And that was not an option. 

So he’s at the mercy of the ginger Judas who put him on the path in the first place. Go figure. There’s self-blame for entertaining this option at all. For not guessing she’d snake her way into the upperhand like always. This wasn’t a beast he could defeat with regular tactician and planning. No, he needed to surprise her–usurp her. Piss her off the way she pissed him off. Go against the grain and act in a way that she couldn't predict. Something she couldn’t maneuver around. 

So, when the mic graced his hands, and the coached words on his marriage, the marriage  he never asked you about. The marriage he couldn’t ask you about because he wasn’t ready either. 

He said fuck it, and did it anyway. 

He knew you would’ve said yes then, so you obviously would answer the same afterwards. Even if you were predictably, and understandably pissed, you loved him, and he intended to use that. Grand gestures were his thing after all. A huge public soiree was more on brand than some private dinner. And, he was Tony Stark. The man who got everything he wanted. Why would your hand be any different? Certainly it fell under the same bracket (and really, an argument could be made that he had your loyalty regardless–this was just a title). 

It was justified in his mind the moment the words hit the mic. It just sounds right– Y/N Stark. Like he should have made it that way a long time ago. For a second, the ceaseless pit of vengeance is taken over by something more. 

It;s even easier to justify when he gets a wave of childlike excitement over it. Imagining the ring on your finger, the life he could have with you. Palm trees and salt waves on a remote coast. No more Stark Industries, no more nightmares about cold federal prisons, just you and him. 

Then, in the crowd, he spots what must be Pepper’s lookout. A short, brayish man stays still while dozen roar in congratulatory apologize. Pepper should’ve coached him better, a clear sore loser in a room full of winners. 

The real reason he’s doing this comes back. Tony makes a quick signal to the guard behind him, and moments later the man is escorted upstairs. He used to hate doing this. But he soon learned that humanity gets you nowhere in this business. Still, he almost tells his team to go easy. Then he remembers the cold look on Pepper’s face at the valley while he plead for mercy like a sad dog. 

Fuck that. The man knew the risks. It’s not Tony’s fault they didn’t play in his favor. 

Out of whatever kindness was left, he makes a note to have his body dumped somewhere nice. 

PART SIX SOON