#anyways. back to pinterest happy shifting !

[k1ttysh1ft4r]

Scripting struggles

I'm changing my magical girl outfit and I have 5 I like and I cant pick one... they don't even match the magic I gave myself anyways idk why I'm like this...

Anyways I'm just taking them all 🤷🏾‍♀️ when I wear them in my DR I'll decide which ones I want to keep.

On that note I need to pick a wand/weapon too. The struggle starts again.

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Missing Matchmaker Merle

Warnings: Smut, degradation, minor alcohol consumption, unprotected p in v, NO use of (Y/N)

Summary: You and Daryl distract each other from missing Merle.

Notes: Wanted to try the idea of Daryl thinking he wants super rough sex, but he finds out he doesn't really like it that much when you indulge in it. GIF found from Pinterest from user vallie

Taking a hot shower was something you used to take for granted. But after arriving at the CDC and having the chance to not only clean, but sanitize yourself, you made every second count. You even fucking shaved. 

When you heard Jenner would also be serving dinner, you could've thrown up in excitement.

“C'mon, quit actin’ like a pussy and drink.” 

You rolled your eyes at the redneck's words, but shrugged and waved him forward anyway. He grinned in success and filled a cup with red wine, nearly spilling it on your chest with the way he shoved it towards you.

The shift in the atmosphere the last few hours had been remarkable. Not too long ago you were in the first stages of accepting your possible demise, standing behind Shane and Daryl as they fought to get Rick away from the doors. Now here you sat between Carol and Daryl, drinking some of the best wine you'd ever tasted, enough food on your plate to fill your stomach the way it was meant to be. 

You barely heard Daryl whisper beside you over the happy chatter of your group. “Watch, he's gonna turn all red, Koreans all got an allergy to alcohol.” 

You couldn't help but break into a grin at that, shaking your head in amusement. He looked too excited for you to correct him so you just chuckled, and tried not to fall from your chair when he playfully elbowed you in your side. 

The sight of Lori and Shane in the little library foiled your plans to read before bed. You only watched for a second, it looked like they were arguing, trying to keep their voices down despite their frustration. 

You rolled your eyes and turned on your heels, annoyed you'd have to settle on something in the rec room. 

As soon as you turned the corner to walk down the hall, you bumped into a chest so hard you lost your balance. Their hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, and when you heard that teasing southern accent you immediately felt your mood lifting. 

“That wine make you blind? You Korean too?” He snickered as he helped you right yourself. 

It was incredibly refreshing to see Daryl in that light. He was in a great mood, not drunk but buzzed enough to keep a grin on his face. 

“Fucking Shane and Lori's in there.” You grumbled playfully, crossing your arms in exaggerated annoyance. 

“Huh, what're they doin’?” His voice lowered to a nosey whisper and he nudged you back to peek around the corner. He immediately pulled back, bumping into you again, a look of disgust on his face. “Fuckin’ white trash. Actin’ like Rick ain't right down the hall.” 

That had you turning into a nosey busybody and you went to see what he was talking about, but he had already nudged your shoulder in the other direction to the bedroom halls. 

“C'mon, let's go do somethin’.” He didn't wait for an answer as he continued using his body to guide you down the hallway, reminding you of a sheepdog, which amused you to no end. 

“Like what?” You smirked as he shouldered you into one of the rec rooms. There were a few loveseats, bean bag chairs, a long couch and endless shelves of things. Board games, card games, sketch books and those really expensive high quality colored pencils, markers, you name it. You could spend the rest of your life in this room and die happy. 

“Hell, I don't know.” He shrugged and went to look through the shelves. You watched him in the doorway, your lip tightening at the side when you realized he was desperate to take his mind off Merle. Shit, you were too. You missed the fuck out of Merle Dixon. You'd grown extremely close to him, he wordlessly accepted your vulnerability of being the black sheep and Daryl related to it. They treated you like some weird adopted family member that one playfully flirted with and the other jerked off to. 

“Wanna play uno? I'm suspiciously good at it.” You finally shut the door and walked over to him with crossed arms, aware of the way he tensed when you got closer. 

“Uno? The fuck? Hell no.” He scoffed and aggressively flipped through the games on the shelf. “This is like some fucked up retirement center.”

“What'd you expect? An Xbox full of two player games?” You watched as he pretended to read the back of a card game box. 

“Psh. I don't know. Let's go fuck with Glenn -”

You grabbed his wrist before he could rush past you and laughed. “Leave the poor kid alone. He's gonna be so fucking sick tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, I guess. Threw up on my couch.” He muttered, remembering the way he'd had to drag Glenn to the couch in his temporary bedroom. 

“Course he did. You kept pouring wine down the kids' throat.”

You had a few minutes of friendly banter, suggested uno again, he suggested strip poker, you suggested skipping the poker, and soon you were grinding against his knee behind some of the book shelves.

“I want it dirty. Want it raw.” He huffed as he feverishly unbuckled his belt. “F-fuck, you're so hot.”

You grinned and leaned in to bite his bottom lip, earning a delicious whimper from him. You dug your teeth down harder and pulled back, feeling his dick twitch obscenely against your hip. 

“Want it dirty, yeah?” You drawled and kissed down his neck, switching between biting and biting hard. 

“Yeah.” He breathed and fucked his hand, clutching onto your hair with his other. “You think,” he faltered as you bit down on his nipple, his words spilling into various curses and slang you couldn't understand. “Shhh-fuck” His voice cracked in a way that was absolutely fucking adorable to you. “Y’think, you could, on top-”

“Yeah, I can do that.” You made your way back up to his neck, reaching to unbutton the rest of his shirt, but he stopped you. You didn't question it, you just sat him down on one of the loveseats and climbed in his lap. 

You looked over your shoulder at the door, even though it was shut anyone could just walk in, but Daryl grabbed your chin and forced you back against his mouth. 

You fucking loved the way he kissed. It was so hot and sloppy, his tongue diving everywhere in your mouth, licking every spot he could reach. When you pulled back to breathe, the skin around your lips felt wet, just another thing to make your pussy wetter. Daryl Dixon being so messy and dirty drove you insane. 

“I like the way you kiss me,” you slurred, your hands sliding up your pajama shirt to grope your own breasts. “Who would've thought you were such a needy whore.”

“Can you blame me, woman? Shit.” He thrusted up against you as he admired your form over him, your lips parted and your hair in your face, you looked hotter than every single pornstar he'd ever seen. He came harder to you than Sasha Grey. 

You maneuvered out of your pajama pants and slipped back in his lap, sliding your pussy against his throbbing cock. 

“Fuckin’ goddamnit.” He sputtered and grabbed hold of your hips for dear life. He rolled up in sync with you, nearly cumming when he saw the way his head would push through your folds each time your hips slid back. 

It was easier to get him inside you with you on top, you didn't need to worry about him slamming into you like last time. You took your time, enjoying the way he curled his upper lip in frustration, his eyes locked on the way his dick disappeared up inside you. 

“Fuck.” You drew your word out as you finally sat down on him, his dick sticking you like a skewer. 

You opened your eyes when you felt him grabbing your right wrist. He brought it up to his throat with no hesitation, a new boldness filling him that you didn't expect. 

You scoffed and laughed, the sound making his hips jerk roughly up into you. You obliged though, grabbing hold of his thick throat and squeezing. 

The situation you found yourself in was something you could easily get used to. You leaned back, keeping yourself upright with your grip on his neck. You rolled your hips in a way that served you, using Daryl's dick to get off. The way you fucked him was completely foreign to him, he'd never seen anything like this in the tapes he'd steal from Merle. 

You moaned when he bucked into you, and you had to take a moment to steady yourself. You released his neck and grabbed his chin, your thumb slipping between his teeth, holding him like a hooked fish. He looked up at you through his lashes and bit down gently, his hips rolling slower now. 

“You're a fucking mess.” You hissed with a smirk, looking down at your work proudly. Now he was the one who needed to be in a filthy magazine. His cheeks and lips red, his eyes half lidded and dark, his teeth bared and biting on your thumb. He was sweating like crazy and you were impressed he hadn't come yet, must've been the wine. “God I missed your dick.”

You weren't sure how it happened but soon you were pressed against the wall, your thighs wrapped around his back and his dick rearranging your insides. You couldn't moan even if you wanted, he was so rough and fast that all you could do was gasp in each breath, your eyes rolled back and your mouth hanging open. 

His thrusts slowed and he pulled back from biting your neck to nip the side of your jaw, making your eyes roll back to focus. 

“Slap me.”

Your words didn't register to him for a second. He lifted his head and furrowed his brows in confusion, although his rough thrusts didn't even budge. 

“C'mon, you wanted it dirty, didn't you?” You sneered, and a book fell from the shelf next to you when your head thudded back against the wall after a deep thrust.

He went to speak, but he only let out a long breath, and that's when his thrusts started to slow. “The hell you want that for?” 

You were caught off guard by the look on his face. He looked equally confused and almost… insulted? Hurt? 

“Cause it feels really fucking good. Hey, you don't have to, alright?” Your breathing came back under your control when his thrusts stopped altogether. 

You could tell you upset him. You slid your legs from his waist until your toes touched the floor, and his dick slipped out of you. 

“Hey, it's okay, alright?” You reached to touch his chin but he tilted his head away, no longer looking confused, moreso disappointed. 

You bit your bottom lip and thought. He was in no state to make any further moves so you made it for him. You pulled your clothes back on and took him to his bedroom, making sure to close and lock the door. You turned the lights off and laid him down on the bed before climbing on top of him. 

“I just wanna make you feel good, can I do that?” You murmured softly, sitting on his lap and stroking his cheek. 

That seemed to get to him and he gave in, nodding once without meeting your gaze.

“Just tell me to stop and I will.” You promised and kissed down his cheek, deciding against being rough with him the way you were before. 

“Never gonna hear me say that.” He snorted and intertwined his fingers in your hair, gentle, something you hadn't experienced with him. It was like a switch was flipped and he was a completely different man. 

Daryl melted under you as you worked him over with soft touches and kisses. You took your bottoms back off and took his dick back out, giving him a few strokes to get him hard again. You wasted no time in slipping him inside you, thankful there was little resistance with how wet you had become. 

You settled down on him, placing your hands on his chest to balance yourself, your fingers pinching the buttons on his shirt as a way to ground yourself. His dick sent you to other places. 

You fucked him slow, taking the time to feel and appreciate each time his tip rubbed against your sweet spot. He breathed noisily under you, giving the occasional grunt or quiet whine, his hands resting on your hips. 

Flipping your hair to one side over your shoulder, you leaned down and kissed him. You led this time, just moving your lips against his, slow and deep and without the use of your teeth, no matter how badly you wished to hear him whimper. 

He sat up and wrapped his arms around your back to turn you over, somehow managing to keep his lips on yours the entire time. 

You felt your muscles sigh in relief when he laid you on your back in the soft bed. You let out a soft happy breath when he slid his hands up your sides, content in just stroking your skin. He wasn't fucking you then, it was something different. If you were stupid you'd call it making love. He thrusted deep and slow, his hips moving on their own accord. Each time he plunged back in he'd exhale deeply through his nose, tickling the skin of your upper lip. 

Daryl was the one to break the kiss, he leaned back on his heels to look down at you.

“So damn pretty.” He mumbled, his eyelids struggling to stay open. If he wasn't drunk on the wine he was drunk on you and this new way of having you, a way he never even considered. This was it, he thought, this is how he wanted to have sex for the rest of his life. Swallowing each other whole, touching and caressing every inch of skin. 

His eyelids didn't feel so heavy when he saw you suck in a deep breath. Your eyes closed and you grabbed at your hair and breast, your head lolling to the side, your mouth hanging open, your face all twisted up-

You came hard around him, shuddering and gasping and whimpering as you enjoyed your sweet orgasm. It was so different, so drastically different from the last one he gave you. You didn't feel like you were on fire, clawing at your skin with your throat raw, you felt like you were being slipped into the warm black lake that was Daryl Dixon. 

“Daryl, oh my god Daryl.” Your words slurred in your mouth and he leaned down to kiss you. He wanted to swallow every little noise you made. Wanted to swallow your breaths, wanted to swallow you. 

“Ss-shh-fuck.” He bubbled against your lips as he came, forgetting to pull out again. He didn't give a shit anymore. He moaned then, such a beautiful noise that it nearly shattered your heart. So shameless, he didn't hold back at all, letting you hear all of it, all that you earned from him. 

He ground his hips into you well after you both finished, making sure every last drop of his cum filled you up. He buried his face in your neck and rolled his hips, his rough pubes grinding against your throbbing clit. You'd never come that way before, not without at least a little outside stimulation, the fact he made you cum from penetration alone changed your life for good. 

It was hard to bite back any further words. You moaned softly at the feeling of his dick still dragging against your walls, nudging against you each time in a way that was nearly too much to bear. 

You looked at him with admiration. He looked beautiful. You reached up and ran your hand over his short hair, wiping the sweat from his brows. He looked at you, something he needed great courage to do, and sighed. 

He couldn't think of anything to say. He felt ashamed, embarrassed, he'd been so deeply vulnerable that it physically hurt him. He swore he'd blow his goddamn brains out if you laughed or made fun of him. 

But you didn't, you just smiled up at him with that dangerous look on your face that had his heart racing. It should've relaxed him, but it didn't, it made the muscles in his shoulders tense. 

“Do you want me to leave?” You whispered as you stroked his cheek, fully prepared for him to go back to the same old Daryl Dixon you knew and tolerated. 

“Do whatcha want.” He breathed, finally pulling his soft dick from you. 

“Good. Then I'll stay.” You leaned up on your elbows and kissed his jaw before slipping into the bathroom. 

When you climbed back in bed he was pretending to be asleep. You scoffed quietly in amusement and pulled a thin sheet over the two of you, curling up behind him. You decided that wouldn't suit you so you turned over and wrapped your arm around his waist, nuzzling your face in the back of his neck. 

You kissed the skin there once before pressing your forehead against the same spot, closing your eyes when you felt comfortable. 

Daryl stared at the wall in front of him as he felt your fingers softly fidget with the buttons of his shirt. They soon stilled and your breathing slowed to a point where he could barely hear it anymore. Only then did he close his eyes, and secretly enjoy the way you held him. 

The next morning was awkward when you woke up and saw Glenn still passed out on the couch.

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams

[thesuperiorrobin]

𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Florists!Fem!Reader

Word count: 570

Warning: Damian and reader are in their twenties, mentions of flowers and their opposite meanings(hatred,Stupidly, etc) this post was on Pinterest that was taken from tumblr but lost it and now I can’t find OG creator. If you know the OG creator of if this looks familiar please let me know so I can tag them. Mentions of the word skank.

A/n: i never realize how horrible 2000s magazines were until I read some my mom kept😭 Also this is all Bs. I’m sure all of these are not right bc I looked them up.

the flower shop was quiet today, it was nice but boring. When the shop was running slow time I’m the place slows down too. And you hated it. You were stuck making sure the flowers were perfect even if they were and you were just trying to make your shift go faster. But none of that seemed to work.

You somehow find yourself reading old magazines from the two-thousands you found in the back of the shop. Your elbows are rested up against the top of the displaced case, flipping through the reach page as you read every box and bubble carefully.

“What makes a girl a skank? Huh?” Your eyebrows are furrowed as you flip the page “Two thousands magazines are something else”

(and trust me they are).

The sound of the bell ringing makes you perk up, indicating someone entered the store. You close the magazine before you walk around the display case to face the customer who entered. You stand there surprised, eyes coming in context with green ones that you recognize from pictures and the news—also ones you see everyday when you go to sleep and when you wake up in the morning.

Damian Wayne stands in front of you and he doesn’t look happy. You smiled at him, welcoming him in. You bring him in a small short hug before pulling apart. Your lips lock for a short second before pulling away again.

“Hey. It’s a surprise seeing you here today. Do you need something?”

He gives you a nod “Do you have anything—flowers, that are symbolic of hatred? Maybe stupidity?” You were taken aback by the question.

Not that many people come in asking for flowers with bad meaning towards them—normally they come in asking for flowers that mean love.

You cleared your throat. “I believe I do, follow me”

You take him further down the shop. In the back laid different kinds of flowers, separated by name and by color.

“There’s a couple I know by heart that have both good and bad meanings to them” You start off eyeing every flower carefully as you try and remember the bad. You point up at the orange butterfly weeds, and Damian follows your finger “Those are very beautiful ones but no one gets them because they literally mean ‘be warned’. Which is shameful because they always die out here”

“Is that why you have so many back at home?” Damian asked softly, placing a firm hand behind your back.

You hum “or orange lilies maybe? They mean hatred and other rough emotions. There are also carnations, which mean disappointment. You can also get black roses. Those work too. What do you think?” You look up at your lover waiting for a response as he looks over the flowers.

He pulls out his wallet “How about all that you just named?” You give him a grin. Collecting the flowers and putting them together to make a beautiful bouquet.

You ring him up. “Are these for your wife Mr.Wayne?” You tease playfully.

“Nonsense, my wife deserves better flowers that do not mean hatred” he scuffs as he plays along.

“She’s a lucky girl”

“Yes, she is” he smiles down at you lovingly. He hands you a fifty dollar bill for a bouquet that cost thirty-five and seventeen in change. He refuses the extra amount left over.

“Keep it. Use it to bye more butterfly weeds” you sigh.

When Damian made up his mind he’s too stubborn to change it.

“Who are they for anyway?” You asked. Tilting you head as you put the rest of the money away.

“Tim was being idiotic during patrol and landed himself in the hospital”

“Oh”

[mysaintkitten]

hii first of all i just wanna say your writing is amazing & you are so very talented 🤍!!!! every time i see you’ve posted something i can’t wait to read it :]

anyway!! i was hoping i could request a jonathan crane x reader fic in which he gets jealous and protective over his gf <3 reader is really pretty (like one of those pinterest or ig baddies) and not the type of girl people typically picture a doctor dating lmaoaoao but he gets jealous n stuff bc people hit on her 😭 ugh i’m rambling now but ty ily 🤍

thank you so so much !! you are so kind !! i appreciate it very very much !! ilyt !!

Claimed | Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

prompt: someone tries to flirt with you at an event, and jonathan doesn’t take it lightly (NSFW!! NO MINORS!!)

WARNINGS: brief awkward interactions with pushy men, mentions of spiked drinks/possible death, implications of murders/killing, unprotected sex (p in v), jonathan and reader are both possessive, breeding/pregnancy kink, squirting, creampie

word count: 4.3k *not proofread*

“sweetheart, we’ve gotta go soon!” jonathan calls out to you from the front room. he stands in front of a large full body mirror making some final adjustments before he leaves. he takes a deep breath and slides a small syringe into his pocket. hopefully he won’t have to use it, but tonight could be hectic.

there’s a large event in gotham tonight and jonathan wants to make sure he looks his absolute best before showing up. though, he doesn’t think he’ll have to worry so much. with you on his arm, he doubts anyone will be paying much attention to his looks.

jonathan wasn’t an ugly man by any means, but you’ve lost track of how many times people told you that you’re out of his league. you didn’t see it. he’s handsome, smart, and sweet. well, sweet towards you, at least. and that’s what mattered.

“i’m coming, just hold on!” you shout back from the bedroom as you slip on your heels. you quickly walk towards the vanity before flattening our your dress and shifting it around so it hugs your body just right. once you’re happy, you head out and meet jonathan in the front room. as soon as he sees you, his anxiety begins to fade and a proud grin appears on his lips.

“darling ..” he coos as he begins to take a few steps to meet you in the middle. he runs his hands along your arms and kisses you softly, making sure he doesn’t ruin your makeup in any way.

“do i look nice?” you ask, jonathan chuckles breathily. “you look stunning, my love. now come on, we’ve gotta go.”

you sigh as he lightly grabs your wrist and starts to lead you outside, “nothing wrong with being fashionably late, jon.”

the drive to the event is rather quiet, you stare out the window, jonathan stays fixated on the road with his hand on your thigh. after a few minutes pass and you begin to arrive closer to the event jonathan decides to give you a brief rundown of what to expect.

“all right, these people will be obnoxious. and pretentious. and dull. but all you have to do is smile and nod and look pretty, okay?” jonathan asks sweetly. he’s not exactly asking you, he’s telling you. but you don’t mind, this is his event after all, you’re really just there to be eye candy. a subtle little ‘fuck you’ to the people who doubted him and his abilities to find love. jonathan was perpetually single for years until he met you, and the people around him made it their mission to never allow him to forget it. but you flipped a switch within him. his soft, gentle side began to spill out more and more. although he still definitely kept his cold and calculated side, he just tried to keep it away from you as best he could.

jonathan pulls up to the gotham museum where the event is being held. there’s a handful of people outside, standing and talking, but the real business is going down inside. you start to feel a bit nervous, you knew this event was going to be big, but this was more than you had anticipated.

you glance over to jonathan and flash him a smile, hoping to convey authentic happiness, but when you see him frown slightly in response you realize you weren’t very convincing.

“it’ll be all right, darling. i promise. you can cling to my arm the entire night, no one will bother you.” he whispers, petting the side of your face gently, “they know what i’m capable of.”

the implication of violence gave you chills. it was hot knowing how evil and dangerous he could be, while on the flip side be so affectionate and loving. he’d get down on all fours for you, kiss the ground you walk on. he had never felt that way about anyone, not in the slightest. in fact, he held partial animosity towards most people. some stronger than others. after years of being picked on and ridiculed, it’s not surprising he felt this way.

you nod at his words and form a genuine smile, making jonathan smile in return.

“let’s head inside.” he hums.

you exit the car with jonathan and begin to approach the museum, already noticing people look your way and whisper amongst themselves. you wrap your arm around jonathan’s, holding him close as you enter the event.

as you’re inside for merely a few moments, taking in the scenery and people around you, you hear someone shout from afar.

“crane!”

you and jonathan’s heads shoot over to the direction of the shout, where you’re met with a man you’ve never seen before. you feel a bit worried, but then you look over at jonathan who’s smiling. you begin to relax, if he’s not worried, you’re not worried.

the man is finally face to face with jonathan, where he grins widely and sticks out his hand. jonathan laughs and shakes the man’s hand, “been a while, hasn’t it?”

jonathan notices your confusion and breaks the handshake to speak to you, “darling, this is a friend of mine from university, his name is dr. fiske.”

you’ve heard of dr. fiske before. jonathan said he was his only friend throughout university. it’s nice to finally put a face to a name. you smile shyly at him and stick your hand out to shake his hand, “pleasure to meet you.”

he shakes your hand and nods, “same to you, miss.”

“is this your girl, crane?” dr. fiske asks, a smirk forming on his face as he drops your hand.

jonathan nods while grinning proudly, “she’s all mine.”

“look at jonny go!” he exclaims happily, smacking jonathan’s arm playfully. jonathan laughs and shrugs, “i know, i know. i got very lucky.”

you can’t help but smile at his words, he always made sure you knew how much he appreciated you and how lucky he got with you. but to hear him tell it to others really solidified his love for you, you’d never been put on such a pedestal by a partner before.

“well, i won’t hold you guys up. it was nice to see you crane, and it was nice to meet you ma’am.” dr. fiske adds before leaving to head to another area of the event.

the night goes well. jonathan talks to people, and you do as he asked. smiled, nodded, looked pretty. and he was right, these people were like parasites. energy leeches. it was becoming more and more difficult to feign this contentment when your annoyance was beginning to boil inside of you. you can only hear so many rich pricks ramble about how great they are in one night.

luckily, the conversations begin to fizzle out.

“would you like to get a drink?” jonathan questions, already knowing what your response will be.

“yes, please.” you sigh with relief. it would be much easier to pretend to be interested if you were drunk, but having to do all this sober was really putting your acting skills to the test.

jonathan chuckles and leads you to the bar, “stay here for a moment, darling. i need to use the restroom. don’t move, i’ll be right back. order yourself whatever you’d like.”

he gives you a quick peck on the cheek before heading off to the bathroom. you really didn’t want to be alone surrounded by people you didn’t know. but you’re grown, and you remember what jonathan said. they know what i’m capable of.

“gin and tonic, please.” you order politely, the bartender mumbles and begins to make your drink.

as you stand there, clicking your nails against the counter while you wait, you’re disrupted by an unfamiliar voice.

“here all by yourself, hun?”

you quickly swing around with a confused expression on your face, and you’re met with an extremely tall stranger that reeks of alcohol. you have no idea who this man is, or why he’s decided to talk to you out of all people. of course this would happen the moment jonathan leaves your side.

“uh .. no, actually. i’m here with my boyfriend.” you respond flatly as you hear the sound of the bartender placing your drink down behind you, you thank them and grab your drink, bringing it up to your lips and taking a small sip.

“well .. he doesn’t seem to be around, love.” the man noticed while slurring, “doesn’t he know better than to leave a pretty thing like you unattended?”

“he’ll be back soon. and trust me, he will not be happy to see you talking to me.” you warn, feeling irritated at this man’s inability to take no for an answer.

he clicks his tongue and tilts his head, “aw. can’t even have a conversation with you? that’s too bad .. i’ll give him something to get angry over ..” he laughs as his hand begins to meet your hip, you push his chest back firmly, spilling a bit of your drink in the process.

“don’t touch me!” you snap, hoping to god that jonathan hurries up and saves you.

“sweetheart ..” the man chuckles lowly, putting his hands up defensively, “relax, now. what your little boyfriend can’t see won’t hurt him, right?” he whispers as he reaches to touch your hips again.

you go to push him again, “i said don’t touch me!”

in the midsts of your rage, your eyes meet with jonathan. he may be far away, but you can tell he’s fuming. he nudges people out of the way and quickly strides over to you, his expression becoming angrier by the moment. suddenly, he’s behind the man’s back with a drink in his hand. his gaze burning into the back of his head.

“is there a problem here?” jonathan growled, the man turns around and scoffs. jonathan’s visibly shorter than the man, but that doesn’t faze jonathan in the slightest. the man scoffs at him, “not at all, man. just chatting with this lovely lady.”

jonathan’s gaze switches to you, and you shake your head slightly, trying to convey to jonathan that you didn’t want to talk to this man at all. he knew what you were trying to say, and he knew this wasn’t your fault.

“interesting,” jonathan responds unamused, “well hopefully you’ve said all you needed to say. come on, darling. let’s go.”

he reaches his hand out for you and you quickly latch onto him, avoiding making eye contact with the unfamiliar man.

he laughs, “wait wait, this is your boyfriend? jesus.”

jonathan wanted to leave as soon as possible to avoid causing a scene, but these little digs were making it harder for him to think rationally.

“yup. she’s all mine.” jonathan sighs, “feel free to look. but you cannot touch.”

the man laughs, not realizing how scarily serious jonathan is being. the energy is making you extremely uncomfortable. he swallows and forces a smile, “here, man. no hard feelings.”

jonathan hands his drink over to the man, to which he accepts it and nods. “yeah man, no hard feelings.” he mumbles while taking a sip. you’re confused. jonathan has never behaved like this. normally, he’d resort to getting violent, yet he gave this man a drink like it was some sort of reward.

you clench harder on jonathan’s arm and the two of you turn to leave, you hear the man make one final comment from behind you;

“keep me in mind, sweetheart. i know you’ll be thinking about me.”

you shudder from discomfort, speeding up your pace as you head towards the door.

once in the car, you sit awkwardly in the passenger seat, unable to relax.

jonathan gets into the drivers seat and slams the door, “goddamn prick ..” he groans, aggressively putting on his seatbelt.

“baby, i’m sorry, he came up to me and he wouldn’t take no for an answer ..” your voice trails off as you can’t figure out what else to say

“no, no, darling, it’s not you ..” he assures, “it’s that stupid fucking bastard in there. who does he think he is? what makes him think he’s worthy of your attention?” though jonathan knows you wouldn’t betray him like that, he’s irritated at the man’s attempt.

you rub jonathan’s arm, “he’s arrogant. and he’s probably never been told no in his life .. he couldn’t win me over if he was the last man on earth.”

jonathan huffs and begins to drive off, you remember how jonathan gave him his drink.

“baby?” you whisper, interlocking your fingers with his,

“hm?” he responds, not taking his eyes off the road,

“why’d you give him your drink?”

he grins while remembering, “well, i couldn’t drink it anyway. i had to drive us home.”

that makes sense now that you think about it, maybe he was offered a drink and accepted it to be nice.

“and i slipped something into the drink.”

your expression drops, “what?”

jonathan just shrugs and continues to grin, “he needs to learn a lesson. i guess he just didn’t know what i’m capable of, but now he’ll know.”

what you didnt know at the time was as jonathan began to approach you, he slipped the syringe out of his pocket (which you didn’t even know about to begin with) and squirted the concoction into the drink hastily. your heart starts to race a bit, a mixture of fear and admiration. he really would do whatever to protect you. you don’t know how severely he’s hurt this man, whether the drink will simply knock him out or flat out kill him. you didn’t know, and that gave you a rush. he was already tipsy anyway, whatever happens to him won’t get pinned on jonathan.

“i’d do whatever for you, darling. anything.” he hums, clenching your hand harder, “i know, i know ..” you agree, “i’d do anything for you, too. i’m yours.”

he groans and loosened his grip on your hand, shifting your hand down lower between his legs, “all mine, pretty girl. all mine.”

you gasp softly as he guides your hand to his growing bulge, “you get so many men all worked up, baby .. yet i’m the one that gets to touch you, and hear all those pretty noises you make as you come undone.”

you run your hand along his clothed cock without his guidance and you feel yourself becoming aroused as your thighs tense together, the intensity of the situation was making your heart pound and your mind foggy.

before you know it, he’s pulled up outside of the house.

“get inside, go into the bedroom. i expect to see you ready by the time i get there.” he purrs, you hum while taking your hand off of his bulge, quickly heading inside and shutting the door behind you before kicking off your shoes. before you’re even near the bedroom you begin to unzip your dress, giggling quietly as you hear jonathan enter through the front door, locking it behind him while sliding off his shoes.

as you stand in the bedroom, you fully slide the dress off, tossing it on top of the hamper before quickly unclasping your bra and sliding off your panties. you scramble, slightly breathlessly, onto the bed, and lay back as you wait patiently for him.

a few moments later, jonathan enters, sighing at what he sees.

“oh, my girl ..” he purrs, walking over to the bed before crawling onto it, planting kisses on your ankles as he works his way up your legs, “so well behaved .. all for me ..” he praises as his kisses make their way to your thighs, where you slowly spread your legs apart for him. he groans at your pussy, continuing his desperate kisses along your inner thigh.

“look at that pussy ..” he hums lowly while using his index and middle finger to spread your lips apart, “god. i’ve killed men over this cunt, you know that, darling?”

you whimper at his tone as you shake your head, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth while staring down at him.

“well ..” he coos while sliding a finger inside of you, “i have. i’ve kept track of the men that have harassed you, hurt you, annoyed you, hell, even the men that looked at you the wrong way. notice how you’ve never seen them again?”

the more you think about it, the more you realize you never had to deal with these men more than once. the incident would occur, you’d tell jonathan, and he’d take care of it. it’s sickeningly attractive to know how far jonathan will go for you, knowing how absolutely pussy whipped you’ve made him.

you gasp as he slowly fucks you with his middle finger, your mind finding it hard to focus on one specific thing.

“for .. for me?” you whimper, feeling yourself becoming slicker

“all for you, my love.” he sighed against your thigh as he continues to place small kisses along your inner thighs, his lips inching closer to your swollen clit, “all for you.” he whispers one last time before suckling gently on your clit while continuing to finger you, sneaking a second finger in while you writhe beneath him.

“o-oh ..” you moan, “jonathan, please ..”

your pussy clenches around his fingers and he hums against your clit, slipping a third finger in as you whimper loudly,

“j-jonathan, please!” you mewl, snaking your fingers down into jonathan’s head and tightly locking your fingers into his hair, he briefly pulls off and continues to finger you while groaning “let me taste your pretty pussy for a bit longer, darling ..”

your cheeks burn at his praise, your thighs beginning to twitch around his head as you become wetter, the sounds of his slick tongue and drenched fingers become even louder. lewd squelches and soft whimpers are all that can be heard, along with jonathan’s occasional hums against your clit.

he can feel you become close, he’s able to recognize your involuntary jolts and twitches all too well. he pulls his fingers out and takes his lips off you, huffing quietly as he brings his slick fingers up to his mouth and sucking the arousal off.

the dirty act makes your chest flutter, he’s so desperate to taste each and every drop of you, trying his absolute hardest to make sure none of it goes to waste. once his fingers are cleaned, he brings his hands down to his zipper and button, where he urgently unbuttons and unzips his pants.

“who do you belong to, baby?”

“‘m yours, jon ..” you moan, batting your lashes at him. he groans as his jaw hangs slightly slack while he tugs his pants down, his cock nearly bursting out of his boxers. he palms himself while staring down at you, “‘n who do i belong to?” he smirks,

it rarely crossed your mind that the possessiveness went both ways, you were normally so enamoured by jonathan and his admiration for you that you rarely considered anyone else as a threat. but occasionally, jonathan would get hit on in front of you, and it would make you immensely angry and insecure. he’d barely even look in the same direction as other women, yet they’d still somehow think that was a sign to approach him. he’d shoot them down harshly. even the women that you felt could easily take your place, jonathan’s loyalty towards you never faltered. he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t have to go to the same limits that he would to keep outsiders eyes off of you.

you shake those thoughts aside to respond to him while biting your lip, “you’re mine ..”

he hums in approval while sliding down his boxers, both the boxers and his pants now sitting at his mid thigh, “that’s right, darling.”

he inches his hips forward and runs his cock head along your folds, spreading the slick around before teasing your clit with his tip. pressing against the bud and gently moving his cock side to side, watching as you wriggled at the teasing.

he chuckles and dips his cock back to your opening, slowly sliding just his tip in before pulling it back out, fucking you agonizingly slow with the head.

“d’you know how many men are gonna be jerking off to the thought of you? ‘n how many of them wish they could just get a glimpse of your pussy .. let alone sit here and tease it ..” he breathed, beginning to slowly side more of his cock inside you. your breath hitches at the developing fullness, “more .. please ..”

“aw, poor baby,” he coos almost condescendingly, “you want me to fuck you properly?”

you nod mindlessly and huff, purposefully clenching around him in hopes of getting him to put his full length inside. it partially works, you think, as he groans and slides more inside, still not bottoming out yet.

“use your words, darling.” jonathan commands, halting his movements again and leaving just his tip inside once more.

“please, jonathan .. please fuck me properly ..” you whimper embarrassingly, as those words leave your mouth he laughs breathily before sliding his full length in, nearly knocking the wind out of you as he thrusts back out and pounds into you again. he forms a quick, rough pace that makes you nearly cry with pleasure.

“o-oh, mmh, fuck!” you whine loudly, your back arching as jonathan’s cock forcefully hits your most sensitive areas.

“this cunts all mine, you hear me?” he groans while gripping your thigh with one hand and grabbing your face with the other, “if i wanna fuck it, slap it, breed it, abuse it, whatever i want. it’s mine. right, baby?”

you nod quickly with furrowed brows, pathetic little mewls falling from your lips as you stare at him through your lashes. you loved this duality about jonathan. sometimes you’d purposefully rile him up just to get him to fuck you angrily and almost animalistic. sometimes, he’ll make love to you and praise you the entire time like you’re a goddess that’s a blessing on this earth, other times he’d fuck you like you’re a filthy whore that’s sole purpose is to be stuffed full of cock. you needed both in moderation. right now, you were long overdue for one of his dirty rough fucks, so it’s kind of nice the way things panned out tonight.

“wanna breed this pussy so goddamn bad .. you like how that sounds, sweetheart? you want me to fuck a baby into you?” he purrs, his grip on your face and hip still tight, you nod and moan loudly, “y-yes, jonathan!”

he chuckles before quickly switching to a low groan as he feels you become slicker around him, “god .. you’re gonna look so fucking good all nice ‘n full .. i’ll make you my wife .. you want that, hm?”

“yes, yes!” you ramble as your mind goes blank, it feels nearly primal. like deep down, you’re just two ravenous, hungry creatures who need each others bodies and want to reproduce. that’s all humans are really meant to do, isn’t it?

“good girl .. such a good girl .. i’ll take such good care of you and our baby, darling ..” he hums, “open your mouth for me ..”

you lazily open your mouth and stick out your tongue, small whimpers being punched out of you as you do so. after grinning at how malleable you are in his hands, he spits in your mouth. he doesn’t even need to tell you to swallow, you do it anyway.

“that’s it, god you’re fucking perfect ..” he praised, it made you feel so dirty, your mind running on overdrive at the intense amounts of pleasure. you hadn’t even realized how close you were until you felt yourself beginning to slowly tip over the edge. this didn’t feel like your normal orgasms though, you felt something different within you.

suddenly, through jonathan’s harsh thrusts, your orgasm spills out of you while you whimper loudly. the clear liquid poured out of you and dampened the blanket beneath you along with jonathan’s pants. you twitch at the after shocks of your orgasm and jonathan’s pace never slows, “look at that .. drenched my fuckin’ pants baby ..”

“i’m sorry, ‘m sorry i couldn’t control it ..” you apologize as your cheeks flush from the embarrassment, you had never squirted before, and now you feel partially guilty for ruining his pants. not too guilty, though, because your other senses are still being dulled by the feeling of his cock pounding into you.

“no, don’t apologize, sweet girl .. ‘s cute .. made you feel so good, you made such a mess ..” he soothes, loosening his grip on you face and sliding his hand down to grip the other side of your hip with his now free hand.

his thrusts begin to get shaky and his breaths get heavier, “gonna come- fuck, baby, ‘m gonna come ..” he huffs through gritted teeth, his eyes shutting tightly as his grips get harsher. after a few more pumps, he’s coming inside you. groaning lowly as he holds your hips tightly against his, making sure he shoots his load as deeply inside of you as he can.

he thrusts a few more times to really get his come in there before slowly pulling out his softening cock. he leans back on his knees, you scan him up and down from between your legs. his cheeks are pink, his hair is messy, his forehead is sweaty, his glasses have slid down the middle of his nose bridge, his chest rises and falls laboredly, and his almost fully soft cock sits between his legs, his pants still around his thighs with a large visible damp mark from when you had orgasmed.

once he’s caught his breath, jonathan speaks;

“maybe other men should flirt with you more often.” he chuckles.

—

i have to be honest, i don’t think this is good at all, but i hope you guys at least like it! i’m sorry it’s taken me a while! i’ll be back on track soon! :)

[smoooothoperator]

What Was I Made For?

20: Espresso

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers (👀)

Warnings: Melanie, Dafne (sassy)

a/n: I'M BAAAAAAACKKKKKK!!!!!!!! God it took me a while to write this! Does anyone remeber what happened 🥲 Anyway!! Sorry for being too late! My life is busy as fuck now and things are not going how I would have wanted... But here you have a new chapter!

if you want to play a game and ask things about Dafne

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Sleeping that night was impossible. My mind played tricks, conjuring images of Melanie and Charles together, laughing at me, sharing secret moments.

Everytime I woke up at night, I looked at Charles, studying his face, and trying to move away from him every time.

I should trust him. He showed me multiple times his love for me. But… What if that baby is his? What will happen? Will he be there for Melanie too? I'll have to share him with her?

Charles shifted closer in his sleep, his arm wrapping around my waist, his hand resting on my belly as if to feel every flutter of the baby’s kicks. Each time, I stiffened, eyes wide open, staring at the wall as a cold sweat trickled down my back.

I didn’t ask for this. Not the drama, not the chaos of a new relationship, and certainly not for Melanie to barge back into my life with this new mess..

The clock showed 4 a.m. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep again; my thoughts were too tangled, my heart too unsettled. I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Charles, and wrapped myself in a blanket. I needed air, space to think, to plan my next move.

I sighed, smiling weakly when I saw Athena walking out of Charles' room and I picked her up, holding her close to me while I went downstairs to the living room.

“My little baby” I sighed, kissing her soft head. 

I sat on the couch with her on top of my belly, smiling weakly when I saw her looking at me with her big blue eyes.

“You can't leave now” I whisper. “Is not fair… Wait a little, please? Wait to meet Dorian, hm? You have to meet him, cuddle him, make him laugh…”

I kissed her little head and hold her close, feeling how skinny she was, how she was cuddling me to get warmth.

“My little old lady” I sighed.

I grabbed my phone and looked through my mail, through my social media. I read everything, all the comments of the posts about Charles, Melanie and myself. I read all the insults, all the threats, all the hate.

How can people be so unfair? Why are they commenting without knowing the truth? They think that because we are their idols and let them take pictures with us, they have every right to think they know us personally. They don't know us, how we are, how we feel. 

And then there is Melanie. Who is she?  Who does she think she is? What made her think that she could come to my house and irrupt my own happiness?

“Why are you awake?”

I flinched, gasping softly when I heard Charles' voice coming from the stairs, making me sigh and look back at him.

“The baby is kicking a little wildly” I lied, rubbing my belly.

“Is he?” he sighed, sitting next to me and kissing my belly softly. “Or is that you couldn't sleep?”

“I…” I sighed, smiling weakly and brushing his messy hair with my fingers, feeling how he relaxed when he laid in the couch next to me. “I just…”

“Is it because of what happened with Melanie?”

I swallowed thickly and nodded, wrapping my arms around him, letting him cuddle me. 

After that talk we had in my room, Charles and I went back to our friends to have dinner. But there was that voice again disturbing me all the time, and it made me have a bad sleep.

“I just… I feel that I have to talk with her” I whisper. “I feel that I have to put her in her place. To…”

“To bring back the Dafne that put Melanie in her place months ago?” he sighed, rubbing my belly. “You did it once, and look how it ended…”

“I know” I mumbled. “I know… But I want to know why she's doing this. She wants fame? Money?”

“I don't know what she wants” he sighed, moving his head and resting his chin on my chest, looking at me. “But I don't want her to hurt you”

“She won't” I whisper. “Not more than she already did… I want to end this, I want all this shit away from the baby”

He sighed and moved closer, pressing his lips on mine in a soft kiss. I sighed against his lips, placing my hand on his cheek and kissing him back.

“I don't want to lose you. I just can't…”

“Hey” I chuckled softly, pecking his lips. “She might be a little crazy, but I don't think she's the type of crazy one that would poison my drink”

“I don't trust her” he said seriously. “Really, Dafne. Just… She's smarter than she looks. Please think about it before deciding if you want to talk with her”

“I'll be smarter than her, then” I whisper, trying to calm him. “You know me, Charlie… You know I would do anything for my loved ones”

I smile weakly and looked at him, watching how he nodded slowly after some seconds, kissing my lips softly before resting his head back on my chest. I hugged him, feeling him relax in my arms and fall asleep again.

I have to talk with Melanie. To make sure she knows where her place is. To make sure she knows that she won't have what she wants.

The day was bright in Florence. Tourists were walking around, taking pictures of the buildings and of the statues standing proudly in the street.

My phone buzzed once, twice. I sighed, grabbing it out of my bag and looked at the screen. Charles sent me pictures of how he and our friends were spending the day in the diver near the house, as well as screenshots of the chat with Melanie.

This morning, Charles received texts from her asking him to meet in a cafeteria in Florence, wanting to convince him that the baby was his and that she was better than me. And even if Charles hates it, he knew that I would take that chance to talk with her instead of him.

After having breakfast, I took his car and drove to the city, parking the car in the garage of my apartment and following the streets that led me where Melanie wanted to meet Charles.

And there I am now, standing in front of the door of the cafeteria, feeling the nervous kicks of my baby right on my ribs, warning me of how bad this meeting could end.

“Don't worry, love” I whispered, rubbing the place the kicks were getting stronger. “Mama is alright”

I took a deep breath, steadying myself as I adjusted the bag on my shoulder. As I opened the door, the rich aroma of fresh coffee, the tang of lemon cleaner, and the faint hint of many perfumes mingled together, making my stomach churn and my head spin.

“Calm down, Dafne” I told myself, walking towards the table Melanie told Charles she was waiting for him.

I stood some meters away, right on her back and tapped her shoulder, making her stand up too quickly.

“Charles! I knew you would-” 

“He ended up being sick” I sighed, smirking. “I guess you'll have to talk to me”

“Like hell I'm going to talk with you” she groaned.

“Oh, why?” I laughed. “What is it, hm? Are you afraid of me? Come on, I'm an inoffensive pregnant woman. I won't hurt you”

“Fuck off, Dafne,” she spat, but her eyes darted nervously around the room, as if searching for an escape or waiting for a cue.

“I suggest you keep your voice low” I smiled. “You don’t want to have an audience, do you? Come on, sit down”

I looked at her, challenging her with my eyes. She groaned, and sat on the chair again while I followed every movement she made.

Yesterday her belly looked smaller than it does now.

“Well, let's talk” I smiled, sitting on the chair in front of her. “Do you want to order something? I heard this place is amazing”

“Whatever” she groaned, crossing her arms and avoiding my gaze.

I raised my hand, smiling at a waitress that came walking towards me.

“Oh God, Dafne Morelli” she smiled looking at me. “What can I do for you? What do you want to order?”

“Well…” I smiled looking at Melanie. “What do you want, dear?”

“Espresso” she groaned, making me smirk and nod.

“An espresso for my friend and for me… Well, I'm pregnant, do you have something like milkshakes? I heard this place has an amazing chocolate milkshake”

“Yeah, sure! An espresso and a chocolate milkshake, got it” she nodded. “Anything else?”

“I'm starting with my cravings… Give me the weirdest thing you can make” I smiled softly and then I looked at Melanie. “Do you have cravings too?”

“O-oh” she frowned, looking at me and then at the waitress. “Yeah, sure”

I smiled fakely looking at her and then at the waitress, who smiled and nodded before walking away.

I looked at Melanie, studying her with my eyes. I placed my hands on my belly and smirked.

“How far are you?” I smiled.

“Why do you care?” she groaned. “How far are you”

“Nineteen weeks” I smiled rubbing my belly.

I looked at her, watching how she frowned, confused. And it only made my smirk grow wider.

“How far are you?” I repeated. “You should know, huh? Come on. If you are sure the baby is Charles', you at least be some more weeks far than me”

She swallowed thickly and clenched her jaw, her hand going to her belly immediately. 

“But… why does it look smaller than my belly, huh?”

She flinched, her eyes flickering to the side like a cornered animal. Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for her water glass, trying to mask the nerves creeping into her voice.

“And you just ordered an espresso” I smiled innocently, placing a hand on top of the table and drumming my nails over the wood. 

“What's the problem with that?” she scoffed. 

“Oh, nothing, dear” I smiled, shaking my head “I find it very curious, you know? The whole situation is so curious”

“You are paranoid” she groaned, raising her voice. “What's wrong with ordering an espresso? This is Italy, God damn it!”

I smirked, watching how people turned around and immediately gasped after recognizing me, and maybe recognizing Melanie thanks to the gossip pages.

“What's wrong with it?” I laughed. “If you are pregnant you can't have caffeine, not even smell it without wanting to throw up everything you ate until you empty your stomach. But if you were pregnant, you should have known about it, huh? That's why it's curious”

“You little bitch…” she groaned, clenching her jaw.

“Show some respect, Melanie,” I chuckled. “Oh, and here’s another thing… Yesterday, your belly was smaller than mine. But today? Suddenly you’re struggling to reach the table?”

She stayed silent, hearing how the couple that was at the table behind me was talking in whispers, grabbing her phone and recording us.

“Tell me, Melanie” I smiled, leaning back on the chair. “Which one of the guys you cheated on Charles is the father, hm? Or, even better… What size is the belly you have today?”

“What are you talking about” she groaned.

“You think we are stupid, Melanie?” I scoffed. “You think you can come, tell shit and then get what you want? You really think Charles would go back to you? You wanted more money? It was that, right? Or you needed fame. That's why you published that in every gossip magazine you could reach? I wasn't born yesterday, neither Charles”

“And what about you, huh?” she scoffed. “Is that baby really Charles'? If I remember well, you were dating that actor less than a week after that day in Monza. Is the baby his and you want to baby trap Charles?”

“Why would I do such a thing?” I laughed, grabbing my wallet and placing the sonogram on top of the table. “See? That is from two weeks ago. And if you can count… Can you? I mean, maybe all the times you dyed your hair burnt your brain. Anyway, nineteen weeks ago was Monza .Come on, show me yours. Or are you going to search on the internet for a sonogram?”

“You are crazy!” she exclaimed, standing up quickly. 

“Oh, your belly dropped” I smirked, pointing with my finger how the belly moved lower. “Next time, make sure to adjust it better, okay?”

“Fucking bitch, you'll hear from my-” she screamed, but I stopped her, standing up too.

“No, Melanie” I smiled, holding my belly after noticing how the kicks started again. “You'll hear from my lawyer. And you are going to regret ever having crossed paths with me. Charles is going to request a parental test. So you better give up and tell the truth before the demand gets worse”

“You are so fucking crazy” she groaned.

“Am I? I think the couple that sits behind me thinks otherwise, hm?” I scoffed. “Next time you want to baby trap someone, just make sure to at least be pregnant, okay? You thought that because I was pregnant I would go soft on you? Poor Melanie… thinking she can do whatever she wants and break a family only because she needs money… What happened with your influencer career, huh?”

“You ruined it” she groaned.

“Me? I had nothing to do with that, honey” I said, rolling my eyes. “People saw how you truly are and they ignored you”

“No! It's your fault!” she repeated, grabbing her bag and looking at me with anger in her eyes. “You will regret this, Morelli”

“Uh, I'm shaking”I laughed. “Come on, try to touch me. Let's see who cries first”

She clenched her jaw and looked at me. Then, I saw her looking down at her phone, tapping things on it. She looked around, and her eyes stopped on a table not far away from the one we were using.

“Oh, let me guess” I smiled looking around where her gaze stopped. “You have a friend in a gossip magazine, huh? That's how you got the exclusive? And how the paparazzi found out where Charles and I were staying”

“What are you talking about” she frowned.

“Yeah, that makes sense” I sighed. “You asked Charles to meet here, so you could have another exclusive for your friend. You only needed a picture with Charles and then you could spread more lies”

I turned around and waved to the man she was looking at, and when he noticed I was looking at him, he immediately looked away hiding her phone and camera.

“Listen here, you little bitch” I said, turning around with a not so friendly smile. “I'm so done with you and your lies. You will regret doing this shit, you will regret using Charles' money for yourself, you will regret staging a pregnancy so he could give you more money. And I don't give a fuck if I ruin your reputation. Because you searched for this shit by yourself. You messed with the wrong woman, you hear me?”

“You wouldn't dare-”

“Oh, I will” I smiled, nodding. “I would do that and even more. I hope you have a good lawyer and some money saved, because this shit will cost you a lot”

She groaned and looked at me, then at her friend. With her hands clenched in fists she turned around and nearly crashed into a waitress, walking away with the eyes of every person that was in the tables.

“Your milkshake. And I found some pickles for the sandwiches we make for dinner, so I made you a sandwich of pickles and peanut butter” the waitress said, placing what I ordered in front of me. “The espresso for your friend?”

“Give it to the man in that table over there” I smiled, pointing at the table where the paparazzi was seated. “Oh, and give him the bill of this table and the ones around us. Sorry to disturb all the customers, my friend was a little… Yeah, you know what I mean”

The waitress nodded and smiled, walking towards the table and leaving the cup of espresso there as well as the small plate with the bill. I turned and smiled at the paparazzi, but the satisfaction was tinged with lingering unease. Had I gone too far? Or not far enough? My hand rested protectively on my belly, feeling the baby’s steady kicks as if grounding myself to what truly mattered. For now, I have won this battle. But the war was far from over.

“It feels so good to finally do something right” I sighed, looking at the sandwich and rubbing my belly softly.

f1_gossip

liked by dafnemorelli, pierregasly and 219.470 others

f1_gossip This afternoon a follower sent me an interesting picture that no one expected to see!

Dafne Morelli and Melanie Cooper were seen together in a cafeteria in Florence. The follower told us that Melanie was there earlier, and when Dafne showed up she looked surprised. It seems that she wasn't waiting for her but for Charles!

Our follower heard a little of the conversation, and she told us that apparently Melanie's pregnancy is fake! That she was faking it to get more money from Charles. 

But we don’t want to get into conclusions until one of them doesn't confirm if it's true or not.

view all comments

dafneismymom I knew it! I knew there was something weird about her! God, so creepy.

fewawifan I never liked Melanie. So happy Dafne finally did something 

sharlesfan I want to know how Dafne put her in her place! If she was as sassy as she was with Charles, it for sure was funny to watch mimi_angelo It was! Omg, I was there! Dafne was so calm, actually a little scary. But yeah, what admin says is true, Melanie was there to talk and be seen with Charles.

sharlesperceval Lol Dafne is on the likes

fewawifan and Pierre too! 😂😂

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[milliesfishes]

omg you write angst so well😭😭😭 literally been sobbing while reading your latest works 😭😭😭😭😭 anyways here’s an idea: billy finally settles down with you and the two of you start a family and have a little daughter together (girl dad! billy agenda never ends!!) and right before he almost thinks he has it all the world takes you from him :(

⋆౨ৎI Can Go Anywhere I Want, Just Not Home⋆౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: death, grief, illness, *angst* pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: you were the center of billy's world, and the center faded away author’s note: offering my apologies once again <3 tagging @phantomamor because they helped me come up with some of the content <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

Everything was bright, the day an endless dawn that rested its rosy cheek on the glass that covered the earth and touched the spot between reality and dreams.

You felt the stirrings of that feeling as you leaned on the porch railing, hair falling over one shoulder and tickling your wrist. The wood was grainy and smooth under your palm, and you shifted from one foot to the other, dulling the ache brought on by the activities of the day. It was a happy thing, borne of the many joys present in your life.

Off in the distance, by the oak tree that sprouted thick and wide, with leaves that blocked the sun on summer afternoons, your daughter sat among the knotted roots, playing quietly by herself. You had always said Annie was born content, evident in the way she minded herself, preferring long daylight hours spent alone. It was a touching thing, how comfortable she was within the confines of her imagination.

Bootsteps thumped on the wood of the porch, the boards creaking under Billy's weight, and then a pair of warm hands were creeping around your waist like the vines that crawled up the walls of the house, pulling you in. You smiled, leaning back and finding his body less than a breath away. He ducked his head and pressed a kiss to your cheek, the gentle prickling of love lingering long after. "How's my wife?"

Five years you'd been married, and still you could hear the way he relished the word like a sweet melting on his tongue. Billy wore his ring proudly, brandishing it for all the world to see. The gunslinger feared far and wide across the south was tied down, and he was happy for it.

You had been pleasantly surprised by how well he took to domesticity after so long on the run. He'd built this house for the two of you, every nail hammered in establishing permanence. It had been a rare luxury for him before, even when you'd met. But he'd proudly given you the brass key to your new house, sweeping you into his arms to carry you over the threshold even though you'd been married for a year at that point.

Now, standing on the porch built with your husband's own hands, sheathed in his arms, you could practically feel the love he'd siphoned into every board, every wall. Billy hadn't only built you a house, he'd built a life. All those nights holding him, promising him he wasn't ruining yours had come to fruition. It had been clear when your belly had begun to swell with his child, a promise of tomorrow. And it was clear now, as you watched that little girl hum to herself under the tree that had been a mere sapling when you'd first moved in.

The first breaths of spring were opening the world up again, sunshine kissing your skin and whispering about new beginnings. It instilled a sense of hope in you, something beautiful brimming with joy. This was your favorite time of year.

"I'm good," you responded to Billy, holding one of his hands against your stomach. "Really good."

He kissed the top of your head, swaying the two of you back and forth. "Should we go inside?" Billy nosed at your neck. "Think you need a little lovin'..."

You laughed, turning around in his arms and pressing your cheek to his chest. "With Annie out here?"

"Aw, she won't come inside 'till it's past dark and we make her." You could hear his smile in his words, and you lifted your chin, tilting your head and letting your hair brush his hands on your waist.

"Hm, maybe you're right," you murmured, reaching up and playing with his collar, straightening it out.

Billy ducked his head to catch your lips in a brief, tender kiss. He pecked your lips once after. "Just make sure to be quiet."

"I'm not the one who-oh-!" Suddenly you were being hauled up, lifted to hang over his shoulder like a sack of flour. He laughed quietly, not wanting to disturb Annie out in the distance, carrying you through the door of the house and shutting it gently. Your hair obstructed your view, and you parted the silky curtain when he bent, setting you down on your feet and grabbing your hand.

"C'mon, pretty-" Billy paused, looking at you and squeezing your palm. "Baby? You okay?"

You were frozen, eyes wide with a sudden realization of the happenings within you. Your skin was icy hot, a blizzard and a wildfire blended into a raging storm that ravaged at your chest. It tore into your bones, filled them with a cloud of dread. Something's wrong.

Billy came closer, blue eyes struck with concern as he searched yours. "Sweetheart...what-?"

Your knees buckled, weakness spreading in a swarm that enveloped your body. Now you were tumbling, poised to hit the ground before Billy's arms caught you, his voice speaking your name over and over like a prayer. "Honey...what's wrong?"

No words found you, only blackness.

The doctor was summoned quicker than Billy thought possible, and he thanked the heavens above for the man's swiftness. You insisted he stay with Annie while you were being examined, and he suspected it was for his own sake as well as your daughter's.

Annie was quiet, staring at the door you were behind. It felt ominous in that moment, and he tore his eyes from the sight. His knee was bouncing, heel of his boot tapping the floor over and over. The voices in your room were muffled, and Billy wished he hadn't listened to you.

The sun was setting now, smearing a palette of color across the sky and shadowing the clouds in hues of orange and pink. He ran a tired hand through his hair, weary already from whatever news awaited.

He reached wordlessly for his daughter, and she crawled into his lap, head resting against his chest. Billy didn't know what to say to her, and so he chose silence. He was grateful for her old-soul tendencies, but also wished she was still naive enough that she was oblivious. More than anything he wanted Annie to be able to be a kid, to be able to forget her mother's distress and go out to play.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting. The way you had collapsed so suddenly worried him beyond belief. That was the way it had all started with his mother. And now she was no more than a shadow, a memory haunting him.

When the door opened, he shooed those thoughts from his mind, standing and lifting Annie to sit on his hip. The doctor appeared, bag in hand, expression grim. He nodded once at Billy, gesturing to the room. "We'll talk in a minute."

Billy offered half a nod before rushing in to you, Annie in his arms. The sight of you nearly stopped him in his tracks. Paler than a ghost, nearly the color of the sheets you laid atop.

When you noticed them, a sweet smile brightened your face, and you reached out, beckoning. "Annie."

He set his daughter down, and she ran to you, burying her face in your chest. You hugged her tight, kissing the top of her head. "Sweet girl. Are you okay?"

Annie mumbled something Billy couldn't make out. He was still, like a statue caught in time's grip.

Nothing was going to be the same. He had that thought over and over in the next few weeks.

It was a symphony of the same scenes over and over again. Your illness took hold of you, settled into your bones and became all that had been you. That version of you was replaced with a feverish imposter, weaker than a newborn foal. You still laughed often, but it was a dull, raspy sound that panged at Billy's heart.

He clung to hope that somehow you would pull out of it. That by the grace of a miracle one day he would wake up, and you'd be looking back at him, saying you felt better.

The opposite persisted. Every time you awoke in the throes of a fever, tossing and turning until he wound his arms around you, he felt you slipping away. It pounded at his chest, an awful realization he ignored in the hopes that it would prove wrong. He shut it out, hiding his face in your hair, holding on tight and wishing, praying, pleading.

You seemed oblivious to it, though you were feeble and listless most days. Still, you smiled, hugged your daughter, kissed him. You were bedridden, but still your spirits were high as the heavens. Even now, as you read quietly beside him, thumbing through the little book with the red cover you so adored, he swore he saw glimpses of you before the sickness that had eaten away at your being.

Billy was absentmindedly stroking your side, lost in thought. He kissed your temple. "Why don'tcha rest for a bit, sweetheart? You can read more when you're better."

He reached his hand out for the book, and you waited a moment before handing it over, letting him set it on your nightstand beside the vase of dried flowers, petals withering away. They had been a gift from Annie, picked in the field not too far from the oak tree.

You settled limply against his chest, fingers rubbing up and down his stomach softly. Your quiet spoke magnitudes, things Billy wasn't sure he was ready to hear.

"I'm not going to get better," you whispered, though the quiet did nothing to dull the sting your words ensued. He felt a tide of panic begin to crash, and immediately ran the other way.

"Shh, don't say that," he murmured, squeezing your shoulder. "You'll be better in no time. Just needa rest, baby."

"Billy-" you sat up, lifting your head from his chest. He tried to pull you back down, but you shook your head. "We need to talk about this."

"No. No." Billy looked away, dread crawling over his insides. He felt as though he were in the middle of an ocean, waiting for it to swallow him up. "You have to get better. I need you-"

"You're going to be okay," you promised, taking his face in your hands and turning it back to you. "It's gonna be okay."

He was struggling for air. "It can't...I can't...how am I supposed to do a damn thing without you? I can't..." Tears were pricking at his eyes, threatening to spill over. "Baby..."

"I need you to be there for Annie. She'll have questions," you murmured, making sure he was looking at you. "She's gonna need you."

"I need you," he whispered, arms tightening around you. "I can't do this without you. I can't raise her. I-" Billy swallowed thickly. "I can't live without you."

"You still have me," you said softly, and he could see tears in your own eyes now. "You have Annie. She is me. She's got all the good parts of both of us, none of the bad."

"There were never any bad parts of you," Billy breathed, and you took in a breath, smiling in a bittersweet way.

"Promise me you'll be there for her," you said, voice firm despite your gentle hold. "Please."

"I promise," he managed, biting the side of his cheek. "Baby-" An unborn cry cut him off, and he looked down, squeezing his eyes shut. Everything he'd tried to avoid had him pinned down now, shaking his shoulders and screaming at him to wake up.

You took in a breath, pulling him closer, down so his head was on your chest. He clung to you, feeling like a child. Your fingers stroked his hair, delicately roving through his curls in an attempt to soothe. Billy only let himself cry then, tears soaking the front of your nightdress. You breathed, "Oh, Billy," and he fisted your bodice, trying not to imagine what things would be like if you were no longer here.

When you were no longer here.

He wasn't ready. How can anybody ever be ready?

Grief hunted him down, made him miss you before he was gone. It stripped the skin from his bones, buried itself into his being and filled the spot where you were. He couldn't remember how it had felt before.

You were slipping away too quickly, and he was grasping for you, milking every second he was allowed. This was a familiar notion- he'd known it before, so he'd thought. But it was different now. You were a new love, one he'd embraced wholeheartedly. He'd given up everything to be with you and done it gladly. You were the center of the life he'd built so far from the land of outlaws and wanted posters. You were epitome of everything good and pure in the world.

Had his sins truly been so unforgivable that you were now being taken from him? Was he so far from absolvable? Billy had repented with every second since he'd met you, knowing that men who kept doing bad things didn't get to keep women like you. It had all been for naught now, because you were turning into memory.

"Give Daddy extra love, okay?" you whispered to Annie, holding her in a tight hug despite your growing weakness. "He's gonna be sad for a while. Can you give him love for me?"

Annie nodded, and you kissed her forehead, squeezing her to your side one last time. You said one last soft thing to her, and she nodded, leaving your side and shutting the door behind her when she went into the other room.

When she was gone, you gave him a tired smile, one that told him everything he needed to know. Billy crawled in beside you, pulling you to lean against his chest. He felt tears wet his shirt, unsure if they were yours or his.

"I don't want to die," you whispered, the pain in your voice making him want to sink into the earth.

Billy squeezed you, tears raining into your hair. "I know. I know, angel."

"I don't want to leave you." Your hand found his, winding fingers together and clenching.

He felt the lonely rise of grief's dull ache seize him again. "I know, angel." Billy's lips parted, something he both wanted and didn't want to say lingering between them. It escaped before he could think further. "Just rest. We're...we're gonna be okay. You can sleep now. I'll hold you the whole time."

"Billy-" you were grasping, breathing faint. He could see life draining from you, your body growing heavy.

"Shh," he whispered, tears like rivers down his cheeks. He brushed them aside, sitting up and pulling you into his lap, so your head was resting against his shoulder. He was still in one piece, strong for you as he rocked you steadily, holding you tight. Love...that was what you needed right now. To know you were loved.

He wouldn't fall apart yet. Not when you were still here for now, clinging to him and holding on for every moment you could squeeze out. Billy leaned down and kissed you tenderly, trying to convey every bit of what had always been yours. His heart. "I love you."

Your body relaxed, and sunbeams spotlit the floor through the windows. He could hear birds outside, singing their merry tunes. It was the birth of summer, the sister of spring. Your essence alone existed in these few months, and it would echo at him for the rest of his days.

Billy held you close as your expression grew peaceful. The veil separating life and death was thin, and you were answering its call. He whispered over and over like a mantra. "I love you. I love you. I love you."

Your body went still.

And now he fell apart.

[princessbrunette]

i need a longer blurb of jj teaching reader how to smoke 🙏🏻 possible shotgunning

i was hoping someone would ask teehee ♡

suggestive themes down below, mentions of weed etc

jj cringes at himself as he taps the cracked screen of his iphone, hitting play on the spotify playlist titled simply with the leaf emoji — a subtle and yet juvenile nod to it being his smoking playlist. what kind of nerd actually has a playlist made and ready to hit play when hanging out with a pretty girl, he thinks — cheeks a little red under the dim light. his shitty speaker hiccups and splutters before playing the music smoothly, just as he comes to drop down beside you on the comfy old couch.

“anyway, fuck uh— i don’t remember. it doesn’t matter.” he waves a hand, pushing his heels into the ground to lift up his hips so he can pull the rolled J out his back pocket.

“your concentration is terrible.” you tease with a giggle, legs tucked beneath you. he recalls you looking particularly adorable in that moment, and his brain malfunctions for a second as he looks at you before he forces out a response.

“uh… yeah — i got that letter thing.”

“adhd?”

“thats the one.” he presses his fingers tightly around the compact J before patting his front pockets for a lighter. “you smoke?”

it was the first time you’d had the privilege of hanging out with just JJ alone. you were sarah’s friend, and had tagged along with her to a few pogue hangouts when she’d started dating john b. you all seemed to get on well as a group, and you were pretty meek and shy most of the time — which they found pretty endearing, so they kept you around. you were harmless, and brought an oddly charming sense of innocence to their reckless and vulgar world. you’d started harbouring a little crush on JJ since you’d met, all smiles and doe eyes whenever he was up to his usual nonsense. he was loud and untameable, but always made an effort to behave around you. the special attention made you melt.

“JJ you’re yelling.” pope would accuse and the blonde would hold his hands up.

“sorry.” he’d apologise before turning specifically to you. “sorry. those pretty ears. shouldn’t be hearing that.” he waves it off and continues with whatever rant he was on, but your smile doesn’t go away for like 2 minutes.

his effort didn’t go unnoticed by the pogues, and since you weren’t technically a pogue yourself — and it wouldn’t be breaking any pogue rules, john b and sarah specifically had encouraged the two of you to hang out alone, leaving JJ the keys to the chateau. it made total sense to them, john b desperately wanted jj to be happy (and to get some, from a nice girl.) and sarah was enthralled by the idea of double dates based off ideas she’d tucked into a pinterest board. whilst the blonde was infamous for making bad decisions, he wouldn’t let turning down alone time with a pretty girl be another on his extensive track record.

you eye him where he sits beside you on the small cushy couch, shifting a little — springs clinking beneath you suggesting it may have been a pull out bed. “i’ve never… i haven’t done it before.” you shrug, embarrassed. you envied the pogues in that way, whilst you’d been sheltered your whole life up into adulthood, they’d been able to explore themselves and figure out what they like.

his eyes widen a little and his mouth forms a surprised little ‘o’ shape, before nodding quickly and stuffing the J back into his pocket.

“what are you doing?” your brows furrow.

“don’t wanna make you feel weird, if i smoke ‘n stuff.” he waves a hand dismissively and you shake your head with wide eyes, sitting up a little in your seat.

“oh, no i don’t mind! don’t let me stop you.” you smile as reassuringly as you can. he looks at you for a moment, fixing his hat on his head before pausing a little and turning more toward you.

“totally shoot me down if you don’t wanna but…” he pulls the J back out, slowly and cautiously like it’ll scare you if he moves too fast. “you down to learn? heard i’m quite the teacher.” he smirks, but there’s a friendly twinkle behind his eyes that just makes him so approachable and non-intimidating that you feel completely safe.

“m’kay, yeah, i’ve always wanted to know what it feels like.” your voice is soft behind your wide smile and he wants to slap himself for staring at you for so long.

“alright, that’s the spirit.” he mirrors your grin, tossing his lighter in the air and catching it.

“i didn’t know smoking was something that needed to be taught.” you comment, shuffling a little downward so you can lean against the couch more��� getting as comfortable as you can in your sweet little sundress. you were sat so close now you could feel his body heat radiating onto you, and it was doing something crazy to your stomach. that, and the way he looked, manspreading casually on the couch, white tee and black sweatpants, frowning in concentration as he presses the joint between his lips, holding a flame to the end of it until it glows and then shaking out the flame.

registering your words, he sends you a little face of mock offence that makes you giggle. he inhales deep and holds the smoke in his lungs, voice strained when he responds. “nah, this shit is an art form. ‘course it can be taught.” exhale. you find you’re holding your breath too.

“yeah this’ll be good for your first time, asked my guy for somethin’ weaker cos’ i didn’t want you to think i was bein’ a weirdo or whatever, smoking you out with the strong stuff so i can be creepy. i know some guys do that.” he rambles before taking another shorter toke, brows creased as he concentrates on his mini review.

“you bought weed especially for hanging out with me?” you smile kindly and he gapes for a millisecond, holding the J between his fingers and he blinks, caught out.

“yeah.” he shrugs. “s’like buying you flowers. but better.” he shuffles closer to you on the seat. before you have time to overthink the flowers comment, he’s carefully holding the joint to your lips, his own eyes wide and already a little glossy.

“i’m nervous.” you giggle, briefly holding his hovering wrist to stabilise you both.

“hey, you’re in good hands i swear, i’ll look after you.” he promises, free hand cupping your cheek with a teasing but far from unkind expression. “you’re my little baby tonight.” it was made to be a joke but your stomach does a little somersault.

“‘kay.” your lips brush the tip of the J and he has to force himself not to think something inappropriate.

“what i want you to do is breathe in and then hold it, ‘kay?” he instructs and you do so, eyes looking to him for guidance. it burns and tickles your throat at the same time but it’s not awful, you don’t even cough. maybe this is rare, because he grins when you squint— holding it in your chest. “atta girl! see, you’re born for this. breathe out for me.” his voice is closer, and therefore quieter, more intimate. you’re a lightweight by nature, so by your second toke the delay starts to unwind and you start feeling a buzz.

sativa by jhené aiko starts to play through the cheap speaker by the time you’re really feeling it. he’s talking to you the whole time, talking you through it, praising you. your whole body feels hot and you revel in the euphoria of feeling so safe and comfortable in someone’s presence. you lean against his shoulder a little, giggling over a little anecdote he told you about his day with pope.

he’s grinning with pretty pink eyes, turning to look down at you, really look at you close up. his heart stammers because you’re so damn beautiful and he nearly chokes on smoke. that would have been embarrassing.

“you’re cute.” he lifts his cap for a second, running a hand through his hair and you tilt your head, joint still clasped between your fingers.

“really?”

“totally. i’d complain about anyone else getting lipgloss on the joint, but you’re cute so you’re allowed.” he jokes and you’re off again, leaning more into him as you chortle. his arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you closer until your head rests against him. he looks down at you, a warm smile bordering on chuckle spreading across his face at the way you’re gazing up at him like he hung the moon and stars for you. “y’wanna learn something else?” he offers and you’re slow, but eager— eyes widening hazily and nodding clumsily.

“alright. y’trust me, yeah?” he adjusts his position a little.

“mhm, yeah i do JJ.” you’re all dazed and openly crushing. he seems pretty into it and you’re glad, because someone a little meaner might find it pathetic.

he takes your hand holding the joint and brings your fingers that clasp it to his lips, where he then takes a hit. his palms encase your jaw, pulling your face to his. he pulls ever so slightly, so your mouth gapes before he’s breathing the smoke slowly into your mouth. your heart hammers, and your hands are frozen but you get the hint and inhale, feeling the second hand burn. you open your eyes, not remembering having closed them and he’s staring at you— and you don’t get the chance to pull away because he’s closing the gap again and pressing his lips fully to yours.

you let out a quiet moan at the surprise, the sound from your throat a lot more vulgar than intended and he pulls back after a moment, eyes flickering between yours.

“sorry.”

“dont be. i wanna do it again. can we?”

“the smoking thing or the…” he trails off as you lean in slowly, a curious and sweet expression tainted with a glossy haze of intoxication and lust. you’d never been like this before with anyone, hell— you’d never felt like this.

you press your lips to his, kissing him simply before pulling back. your brows pinch together and be bites back a smile, thumbing at your cheekbone.

“wh’sthe matter?” he whispers.

“there’s more you need to teach me.” you bat your eyelashes at him and he feels himself wake up from the waist down, subtly adjusting himself.

“well we got all night.” he teases before leaning in, this time his mouth taking the lead. the joint is put out and forgotten about as he presses an open mouthed kiss to your swollen lips. “didn’t i say i was a good teacher?”

[fluentmoviequoter]

Bloody Work

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!reader

Summary: Your ex left deep scars, and when you unexpectedly get your period with Deacon, he comforts you and shows you how wrong your ex was.

Warnings: depictions/discussions of menstruation, angst, fluff, flashbacks are italicized (mean ex in flashbacks but Deacon is perfect, obviously)

Word Count: ~3.2k words

Picture from Pinterest

Since you started dating David ‘Deacon’ Kay a few months ago, you’ve learned what it’s like to date a man rather than a boy. That, however, doesn’t erase the damage caused by your ex. Because of what you’ve been through, you stay quiet and reserved, even though you trust Deacon and are undoubtedly falling in love with him. Once a month, you avoid setting dates or going out with Deacon because of your period, which your ex helped you realize was far worse than you knew.

Deacon has noticed the pattern of keeping to yourself and avoiding him occasionally but doesn’t want to ask until you’re ready to talk about it. You’re already reserved, and he doesn’t want to pressure you and risk pushing you away, even though he’d like to help you with whatever is bothering you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Want to come over for dinner?” Deacon asks, guiding you with a hand on your back.

“Tonight? It’s kind of late notice, I don’t want to put you out,” you argue quietly.

“Of course, tonight,” Deacon answers, laughing lightly. “And it’s not putting me out. I want to spend time with you, and we need to eat anyway.”

You chew your bottom lip, turning your head away from Deacon as you think. He stops, moving his hand to yours as he pulls you back toward him. 

“Is something else going on?” Deacon asks softly, using the pad of his thumb to point your chin toward him.

“No, I just- are you sure?”

Deacon tilts his head, smiling as he interlaces your fingers with his. He leads you to his car and opens your door. While he walks to the driver’s side, he shakes his head, wondering what kind of guys you’ve dated to be so closed off and to value Deacon’s convenience over your happiness or what you want.

“Any ideas for dinner?” Deacon asks, reaching across you to buckle your seatbelt.

“Whatever you want is good,” you answer, setting your joined hands in your lap.

“Sweetheart,” Deacon says, waiting until you turn to face him to continue, “what do you want? It’s your choice.”

You tense momentarily, like combating a sudden pain. Quietly, you suggest your favorite meal, and Deacon’s smile grows tenfold.

“Coming up,” he agrees as he shifts the car into drive and pulls out.

✯✯✯✯✯

You’re stiff as you walk into Deacon’s house and sit at his table. Deacon wants nothing more than to hold you until you relax, to tell you everything he thinks, to promise that you are more than whatever you think or believe, and that he would like to hear what your past dates said or did so that he can show you they were wrong. After a while, as you sit in the room beside him, you relax slowly and start talking to Deacon.

“Deacon, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Do you like what you’re cooking, or did you only make it because I asked for it?”

Deacon tosses his oven mitt onto the counter and sits beside you, laying his hand on your knee as his thumb brushes against your skin.

“I made it because it’s what you wanted. As a bonus, I do like it, but when I offer to cook for you, it doesn’t matter what I want or think.”

“Yes, it does.”

“If I hated it, I could make something else.”

You nod, looking at his hand on your knee.

“Is something else bothering you?”

Yes, you think, but you say, “No, just wanted to make sure you were okay with it.”

Deacon doesn’t believe you, but he leans forward and kisses your forehead as he stands. As he sets your plate in front of you, it begins raining, and thunder sounds in the distance.

“Maybe you should stay here tonight, it’s only gonna get worse out there,” Deacon suggests as he pulls his chair toward yours.

Your stomach drops, and you swallow harshly before nodding.

“I- I can’t put you out like that, Deacon. I’ll get a ride, so you don’t have to go out in that.”

“I’m worried about you, not me having to drive in this.”

As he says it, the power flickers, and a severe thunderstorm warning appears on your phone screen. 

“I,” you begin, trailing off.

“I insist. LA doesn’t get this kind of weather often and it’s terrible to drive in, or be a passenger in. Just stay, please,” Deacon adds quietly.

You nod silently, hoping that it goes differently than the single time you stayed with your ex.

✯✯✯✯✯

“I need to stay here. The road is closed and they’re not letting anyone pass,” you explain as the door opens.

“Not happening. Go the other way and get a hotel or something,” he answers, blocking the doorway.

“The road is closed, the whole thing, so I can’t go anywhere,” you say, wringing your fingers together.

“I’m not dealing with your girly needs or your hair clogging up my shower. Can’t you sleep in your car or something?” he groans.

“Can I just sit at your table until the road reopens? Please,” you plead.

He rolls his eyes as he lets you in. “There’s a public restroom down by the pool if you need it.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, watching his back disappear down the hall.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Here, these may not fit well but they should be okay to sleep in,” Deacon says as he passes you a pile of clothes.

“Thank you,” you say, smiling as you accept them. You want to shower, but it’s only one night, so you should be fine without one.

“The shower is right there, and I have some extra stuff under the sink.”

You furrow your brows at Deacon’s back, but he turns and hands you a towel before you can ask if he’s sure. Deep down, you know he’ll say yes, and he means what he says because Deacon is the most amazing man, but you’re still scarred from the past.

“I’ll sleep on the couch if you want,” Deacon says, pulling you from your thoughts.

You realize you’re staring at the bed, and he thinks you’re concerned about sharing with him.

“Uh, no, unless you want to. I don’t mind sharing if it’s okay with you,” you ramble. “I can also take the couch.”

“Slow down,” Deacon says, smiling as he places a hand on your arm. “We can share, that’s fine. Take a shower, do whatever you need to do to get comfortable. I’ll be in the kitchen cleaning up.”

You nod, releasing a deep breath as you walk into the bathroom. The hot water feels incredible on your back, suddenly achy as you grow tired under the spray. When you walk into the kitchen in Deacon’s clothes, he smiles widely before pulling you into a tight hug.

“Thank you for staying,” he says, kissing your forehead before pecking your lips.

“Thank you for letting me.”

“You don’t have to thank me for being a decent human, you know. Anyone would do it.”

Deacon has no idea how wrong he is, and you nuzzle closer to him as you begin to understand how much different, better, and more mature he is. It’s not an overnight fix, but you trust him, and you know you can talk to him, ask him things, be open and loving, and he will never shame or insult you for it. But it’s not easy.

Deacon leads you to his bed, chuckling as you insist he takes his usual side of the bed. When he’s comfortable between you and the door, he pulls you into his arms, and you fall asleep faster than ever.

✯✯✯✯✯

The sun is still below the horizon, any light drowned out by the thick storm clouds covering the city when you wake up, groaning quietly as a sharp pain moves across your lower stomach. You stand up slowly, your eyes snapping open when you recognize the pain. Holding your stomach, you stare at the red stain on Deacon’s sheets.

He’s asleep on the other side, and you know you should start cleaning yourself and the sheets, but you can’t move. Tears begin leaking from your eyes before you can stop them, and you kneel on the floor, leaning forward so you don’t risk getting his floor bloody, too. Your breaths grow shallow as you find yourself lost in a memory.

✯✯✯✯✯

You press a hand against your lower back, seeking some relief.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“My back hurts,” you answer. “I don’t think I can mini golf today, I’m sorry.”

“Can’t you take some ibuprofen? It’s just a little back pain.”

You sigh, uninterested in an argument, and his eyes widen comically when you stand. Turning around, you see a small red spot on your hoodie that was tied around your waist. It explains the pain, at least.

“That’s disgusting,” he spits out, looking away and shuddering. “I can’t believe you got that on my couch.”

“Uh, it’s not on your couch,” you point out. “Just my jacket.”

“Oh, that’s better, a contained biohazard. You’re right, mini golf is a bad idea for you today. You should go home.”

You bite your lip to keep from crying, promising yourself that you will never let him know when you’re vulnerable again. As you leave, you wonder if you should even come back.

The following month, you arrive over-protected for a weekly date while on your period. Yes, it’s uncomfortable, but worth it to avoid any comments like the last time. You’ve lived the last month with a voice at the back of your head telling you that you’re disgusting and should leave, yet you return because the weeks between weren’t terrible.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, stepping away from the door after answering.

“It’s Friday. I thought we were going to dinner, like always?”

“It’s the fourth Friday, so I’m good without… that,” he finishes, gesturing to you.

You raise your hand, and he jerks back like you have a weapon… or a contagious disease.

“When you’re uh, finished, we can talk.”

“You’re cancelling because I’m on my period?”

He nearly gags at the term, and you can’t decide whether to laugh or hit him.

“Yeah, I don’t want to be around- everything.”

“I can’t help it.”

“I can.”

“So you’re dumping me because I-“

“I’m dumping you because you’re disgusting. How am I supposed to kiss you, touch you, knowing what’s happening?”

“How are you going to kiss any girl, by that logic?”

“The ones that aren’t as disgusting as you,” he says, “don’t let us know it happens.”

You nod, disappointed that it took you so long to realize all the little comments about you were genuine, and he finds you disgusting. How can you trust anyone after one mocks you and hurts you because of not only who you are but something you truly can’t help?

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon wakes up to the sound of you crying and gasping for air. Sitting up, he sees your head over the edge of the bed. Deacon throws the comforter and the sheets off as he rushes to stand. Slowing as he rounds the foot of the bed, he lowers himself to the floor before you, quiet and slow so he doesn’t upset you worse.

“Hey,” he calls quietly, holding a hand toward you.

He’s never seen you like this before, so broken and vulnerable, and he can’t help but wonder how often this happens when he’s not around. Pushing the thought aside, he focuses on doing what he can now, but he’s unsure what kind of comfort and help you prefer or need.

“I’m sorry,” you say between hiccupping gasps. “I’m so sorry, Deacon.”

“It’s okay,” Deacon soothes, even though he has no idea what you’re apologizing for.

“I didn’t know,” you add, more to yourself than him.

“Sweetheart, I need you to take a few deep breaths, can you do that?”

You pull your arms around your waist and drop your head. 

“Can I come closer?”

You look up quickly, shaking your head and looking at his bed with wide eyes. Deacon’s brow furrows as he glances to follow your eyes. Dozens of questions float through his mind, including one that asks if he did something wrong.

“Okay,” Deacon says gently, “I’ll stay over here. But we really need to slow your breathing down. I’ll go get you some water, and you try to take some deep breaths.”

When he begins to stand, you realize that he’ll see the blood because he’s on ‘your’ side of the bed now. You lurch forward and grab his wrist, but he’s already up.

“No,” you cry, your voice breaking as you utter the single syllable.

Deacon doesn’t want to touch you without permission, but you’re touching him and telling him not to go or not do something, so he freezes. His eyes are on you before you gulp, and your eyes dart to the bed. He looks over and sees the spot of blood on his sheets.

“Oh,” he says lightly.

“I’ll clean it up and leave,” you say, scrambling to your feet.

Deacon’s wrist is still in your hand, so he takes the opportunity to stop you. He catches your waist in his free hand and pulls you against him. You start to relax but stiffen nearly immediately.

“Take a deep breath,” Deacon demands.

You think this must be how he talks to his team when he’s in charge, and you nod as you take a shaky breath.

“Couple more,” Deacon says, rubbing your lower back as you lean against him.

Once your breathing and tears have slowed, Deacon loosens his grip on you. He pats your hip lightly before he steps toward the bed. He moves his hands toward the corner of the sheet, and you grab his forearm with both hands, looking up at him with glassy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

“Don’t touch it, Deacon, it’s disgusting. I’ll clean it and leave.”

Deacon’s eyes narrow as he presses his lips together. “What’s disgusting?” he finally asks.

Your fingers move nervously against his arm as you look down and answer, “The blood. Me. All of it.”

Deacon’s jaw clenches. He wants to know who told you that, where he lives, and if there’s any chance he has a warrant that could justify roughing him up a little. His head turns toward you, and when you see his tightened jaw and angry eyes, you flinch away from him. He closes his eyes as he realizes that you think he’s angry with you. You begin crying again, and Deacon’s features soften as he reaches for you.

“I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you, and, hey look at me,” Deacon drops his head to meet your eyes before continuing, “it is not disgusting. You are not disgusting. Whoever told you that was immature and wrong.”

You nod, stepping toward him and taking his outstretched hand.

“I didn’t know; I started early. I’m so sorry,” you apologize into Deacon's chest.

“Don’t apologize. You can’t help it. Besides, I kinda knew what I was getting into when I started dating you. It’s natural, sweetheart.”

You nod against Deacon’s chest, tightening your arms around him.

“He- my ex saw the blood once and asked me to leave,” you explain.

Deacon shifts, sitting on the bed as he pulls you into his lap.

“I-“ You want to remind him that you’re bleeding and you’ll get his pants dirty, but he doesn’t let you.

“I don’t care,” he interrupts, a warm arm looped around your back as his hand rests over your stomach. “What happened then?”

“He told me it was disgusting, that I was disgusting. The next month, he broke up with me. He said he couldn’t touch me or kiss me knowing what was happening.”

“He does know most women menstruate, right?”

“I told him that and he said that the ones who aren’t as disgusting as me hide it and don’t make the men see it or know it’s happening.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Deacon says under his breath.

You smile for the first time today, looking up at him as you argue, “I think that’s frowned upon.”

“What if I just make him really miserable?” Deacon suggests, a playful glint in his eyes overpowering the anger he feels on your behalf. “Give him a taste of his own medicine?”

“Give him a period then be mean to him about it? How do you suggest doing that, Sergeant Kay?”

Deacon shakes his head, smiling against your forehead as he kisses you. He moves his hands to each side of your waist as he stands, pulling you with him. Your hand finds his as Deacon leads you to the bathroom. He positions himself so you don’t see the blood on his pants, not wanting to upset you again.

“Open that drawer,” Deacon tells you, pointing to the bottom drawer of the vanity.

You squat and pull it open, shocked when you see several packs of pads and tampons, different sizes and absorbencies, a new heating pad, and a few bottles of painkillers. Looking up at Deacon, he’s already smiling at you (not that he stops often).

“Why do you have all this?” you whisper.

“I am dating a woman, you know,” he points out playfully. “It’s here whenever you need it, and don’t be afraid to tell me if you do or don’t want to do something, or if you need something. You are worth it, all of it.”

You hug Deacon tightly, sighing as his arms hook over your shoulders and rest on your back.

“I’ll work on it. Thank you, Deac,” you say.

“I’m going to grab you some more clothes so you can shower.”

“I can clean the sheets for you when I’m done.”

Deacon nods, slipping past you before he returns with more clothing. You thank him again before closing the door and stripping the blood-soiled clothes off your skin. The hot shower works wonders for your discomfort and mood, and you happily use the products Deacon showed you as you get dressed. Looking around for the dirty clothes so you can wash them, you realize that a warm towel has taken their place.

Walking into Deacon’s bedroom, you see fresh sheets and a different comforter. You smile as you walk down the hall in search of Deacon.

“Feel a little better?” Deacon asks from the kitchen. 

You nod, and he tells you to get comfortable on the couch. He joins you a few moments later with a pot of calming tea and a small assortment of snacks. You raise your arms, asking him to sit with you. He chuckles before sitting beside you and pulling you into his arms.

Deacon quickly becomes your personal heater, your aching back pressed against his chest as his joined hands rest against your stomach. You thank him every few minutes and after each sip of tea.

“It’s the right thing to do,” Deacon mutters against your shoulder.

“Not everyone is willing to do it, Deacon. You’re special, and I’m lucky.”

“You’re special, too.” Deacon pauses before asking, “What’s your ex’s name?”

You laugh, turning in Deacon’s grip. It’s true what they say: laughter is the best medicine, and Deacon’s comfort makes everything better.

[sashaisready]

Chapter Twenty-Five - Epilogue

Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again.

18+ - see Masterlist for full list of warnings

Series Masterlist

(gif does not represent how reader looks!)

It had been nearly a year now since you'd met Bucky.

You're still living in your apartment despite his protests, he's been vocal since early on in your relationship that he wants you to move in with him. You're in his house most of the time anyway, and he doesn't like waking up with you not there. The men like having you around, really like it when you bake for them or bring leftovers back from the bakery. But you enjoy your little sanctuary, a break from the busy house and the swarms of mobsters – who are perfectly pleasant, but everywhere. Your apartment has a silence you can't find anywhere else. A relic from your old life. Still, he's wearing you down and it won't be long until you give in to him. You know that, he knows that, but you've never been one to back down from a fight. He knows that too.

You're still at the bakery. The newest Assistant, Carol, has taken to the job like a duck to water and has settled in nicely between you and Wanda. She's feisty and keeps Bucky's men on their toes too, which is a bonus.

Bucky surprised you by buying a large stake in the bakery and putting it in your name, meaning you now technically own it with Pepper. He was nonchalant despite your shock and gratitude, telling you that you practically run the place anyway so you should do so legally too. Pepper is delighted with the choice of new business partner and business is booming, although it's all still quite new to you – you've always been about the cake rather than the numbers. Still, you're learning all about running a business – with Bucky's help and experience.

Wanda and Vis are getting married and you're maid of honour, of course. You're busy looking at centrepieces and honeymoon Pinterest boards when you're together but still find time to sometimes grab a beer with Peter to laugh and catch up. He's back with his ex, Mora, and seems very happy. Neither of you can believe you were ever romantically involved now, even fleetingly, it just feels so wrong.

Bucky's business is doing well too. He's made a conscious effort to shift into more legitimate activities in your honour so he's doing his best to go by the book. You'd bet a large sum of money that he dabbles more under the table than he lets on, but you don't ask. He's started to share more about his past and you hold his hand and kiss his scars as he talks. Some of it is shocking, upsetting – but you don't judge him. He punishes himself enough. To you, a lot of it sounds like a lost young man groomed to be a pawn by older and stronger personalities. But Bucky never shies away from the wrongs he's committed, he believes in accountability.

HYDRA had been wiped out completely after that night, but Bucky keeps an eye on any former members or allegiances who may start up again. He managed to weed out the mole, Klaue, after some rigorous investigation. He was feeding Pierce location information and any titbits he could get his hands on for a pay-out.

One day Klaue was there and the next he wasn't. You hadn't really gotten to know him. You guessed it didn't end well for him but again, didn't ask. The newspapers simply reported that he was missing and you have a feeling he won't ever be found. But it's hard to feel sympathy as what he did nearly killed you, a fact Bucky was painfully aware of when he uncovered the double-crossing.

He doesn't have you followed anymore but he likes you to check in when you're apart, and he gets irritable if he hasn't heard from you in a while. Sometimes if you lose track of time and forget then he'll call you, anxious something has happened and scolding you. It's something of a bone of contention in your relationship but you try to remind yourself he's always on high alert after the night you got taken, and that this all comes from a place of fear. You can see he's doing his best.

The panic attacks from that night still catch you off guard occasionally. You know you won't ever be fully free, but it's gotten easier, it's gotten better. You know how to handle them. Same with the nightmares, they're uncommon now but never fully gone. Bucky holds you tight when you cry out in your sleep, his warm touch on your skin bringing you back to him as he reassures you that he's there. He's always there. He hates thinking about you waking up alone when you're staying at your place without him.

You still don't care for all aspects of his work. You still aren't fully comfortable taking money from him and prefer the cosy neighbourhood restaurants over the high end establishments in Manhattan. You're more at home with a burger than foie gras. Still, you accompany him when his business requires it – galas and meetings, fancy dinners and charity events. You never feel fully comfortable but you know he appreciates having you there. You have a few dresses to look the part now which helps with your insecurity. He teases that at least he knows you're not with him for his money.

You have no patience for the paparazzi or red carpets but funnily enough they have lots of time for you. The press seem to like the idea of the notorious Bucky Barnes falling for the 'baker next door', reforming his gangster ways and helping him settle down. It makes you roll your eyes when occasional articles pop up about you online, but Bucky finds it all very amusing.

Your insecurities rear their ugly head when occasionally women try and flirt with Bucky, not even particularly put off if you're there. Some of them seem to see it as a challenge, tempting the notorious mob boss away now he's settled and happy with a girlfriend. Bucky is quick to shut them down, he only has eyes for you after all – but part of him revels in your jealousy. You'll glue yourself to his side when it happens, scowling at the offending interloper and making it clear he's yours. You stake your claim with a firm kiss and protectively run your arm across his back. This is the role Bucky normally plays, and he'd never admit it to you but he likes when you turn the tables, reminding him that you can be just as territorial as he can.

You once both attended a black tie gala and somehow got separated as the evening went on. You were cornered by a society type trying to pitch you some sort of charitable cause...donkeys maybe? No, zebras. Maybe. Or was it a toy museum? He seemed to think you could convince Bucky to make a generous donation, that you were the wheel he needed to grease to get the cash. Despite the fact you knew the requestor could fund the charity for a year from his own bank balance and not even notice. You saw through it of course, you got this sort of impassioned spiel from one person or another at all of these events as they pretended to be interested in the bakery. You'd nod half-heartedly and tell them you would keep it in mind.

As the man continued to wax lyrical on the plight of the donkeys, or zebras, or toys, you caught a glimpse of Bucky across the grand hall. You felt a momentary pang of love as you watched him in his tux, he looked so handsome. You could scarcely believe you got to wake up to him every day.

But that affection quickly dissipated as you saw him in close conversation with a gorgeous woman, looking practically like a celebrity in a tight fitting red dress. Bucky was laughing and the woman kept touching his arm as she spoke. You seethed quietly as you glared at him over your conversation partner's shoulder.

Fine. Two can play that game.

You turned your attention back to the man in front of you. Mr. Drake you thought his name was, or was it Mr. Dickinson? Mr D would suffice. You began to smile warmly as Mr D continued his monologue, absent-mindedly running a finger across the top of your breast as you nodded along. You caught his breath hitch slightly and you took your cue to move closer to him. He cracked a terrible joke and you laughed uproariously as you angled your hips to accentuate your dress.

Your laughter caught Bucky's attention, in the corner of your eye you saw his head snap over in your direction, his companion suddenly forgotten. His gaze stayed on you as you began to press your hand onto Mr D's chest and told him how funny he was. Mr D began to stutter, clearly nervous to be in this position but not wholly against it either.

You caught Bucky's eye and stared back at him defiantly as you continued the show. He was stoic to everyone else but you knew he was raging, you recognised his poker face well enough by now. Your performance continued until Bucky finally broke away and stormed over to you, leaving his new lady friend gawking as he disappeared halfway through her sentence.

1-0 to you.

"Can I steal her for a moment?" Bucky asked Mr D, voice sweet as pie as a firm arm snaked around your waist.

Mr D nodded and stammered in agreement, clearly unnerved and nervous about what Bucky might think. Poor guy.

He marched you a suitable distance to the corner of the room and then he was hissing in your ear.

"What game are you playing here, Doll?" he warned, his face locked into a smile. To any observers you looked like a loving couple having a moment of quiet.

"Same one you're playing, apparently" you shot back through your own carefully painted grin. "Leaving me to be shaken down for money while you make new friends".

Bucky chuckled. "She's on the board of a company we're trying to make a deal with, Doll. I need to keep her sweet..."

"Mmm. Well she certainly thinks you're funny".

He glared at you, silently daring you to push him further. You merely smirked.

You had ended up in a broom closet, going at it against the door as Bucky covered your moans with his metal hand and rutted deep inside of you.

"My jealous Doll" he whispered into your ear between thrusts as you teetered over the edge. "Acting out at my work events...flirting with rich old men to piss me off...all because you want my attention...what am I going to do with you?"

You'd come hard, whimpering against his chest as he held you tightly. You slowly raised your eyes to meet his as a satisfied grin spread over your blissed out face.

"Worked though, didn't it?"

*

You both like retire to bed early and quickly became intimate with every inch of each other's bodies. The sex is like nothing you've ever experienced, a combination of raw lust and attentive lovemaking. You may not always be on the same page in conversation, but your bodies have always understood one other perfectly.

You can almost see Bucky's persona soften in real time once the bedroom door is closed. He'll strip off his suit and settle into bed with you, Bucky the mob boss and ruthless businessman disappearing before your very eyes as your Bucky emerges in his place. Your Bucky who whispers sweet nothings in your ear, who holds you tenderly and watches you with awe. He's still wracked with guilt about what happened with HYDRA, and generally how your relationship started, and so he apologises and tells you he loves you and holds you close – repeating the same gentle phrases to you like he's reciting a prayer. And no matter how much you tell him it was alright, that you love him and forgive him, you understand a small part of him will always carry it with him – much like you and your trauma from that night. So you allow him to confess his sins as he takes you in his arms and kisses your skin as he makes it up to you, his ministrations both vocal and physical.

*

It's a normal Wednesday evening and Bucky is due in any minute. You're in his ensuite bathroom staring blankly at the tiles in a bit of a daze when he storms into the bedroom.

"Doll...I'm home" he calls as he walks in, slipping his jacket off. "What do you want for dinner? Sushi could be good..."

His face creases in puzzlement when he can't see you. He notices the ajar bathroom door and heads over.

"Doll...?"

You're sitting on the closed lid of the toilet but don't answer him or meet his eye, you just sigh heavily.

"Baby...you alright?" he moves to you, suddenly anxious that you're having a panic attack or PTSD flashback.

"I'm fine..." you mumble quietly, moving your eyes to meet his. "Looks like I'll be moving in after all".

His face lights up. "Finally! Don't worry, I'll fix everything, the truck...movers...Wait, what changed your mind?"

You smile brightly at him then slowly reveal a positive pregnancy test.

"Hope you've got room for two of us?" you grin.

Bucky's jaw drops open as he looks between you and the test. He moves quickly, smattering your face in kisses as he glares at the two bold lines. He face spreads into a disbelieving smile.

"Oh my god..." he whispers.

"I know..."

"Oh...my god"

"I know..."

"So...maybe we need to rethink sushi for dinner".

You laugh, wrapping your legs around his waist as he picks you up and swings you around. He kisses you deeply before his eyes fly open and widen at a sudden realisation.

"Wait...does this mean you've got a bun-"

"I swear to God, don't say it" you warn.

"Please..." he pleads.

"Ugh, fine. But just once".

"You've got a bun in the oven" he grins.

"Happy?"

"Oh Doll, extremely".

The End

Aaand that’s a wrap! Thank you to everyone who has read, liked, commented and reblogged this fic! It means so much to me and makes me so happy that people have enjoyed it. I am moving some of my other fics over from Wattpad/Ao3 after the holidays and am also cooking up some ideas for a Biker!Bucky fic for 2024 which I’m excited about.

Check out my Masterlist for my other stories and I’m also on Ko-Fi too. Thanks again ❤️

[dc418writes]

I love the story "No Way Home" I've never done a request before but what is a day in the life like for reader and Ari now that she's staying with the two murderers?

Forever Home🌼

✨Pairing✨: serialkiller!Ari Levinsonxblack!reader (ft. Robert Freezy)

Summary🪄: A day in the life of you in your new home

🚨: 18+ NO MINORS, mentions of murder, manipulation, softdark!Ari, mention of protected and unprotected happy adult fun times (you’ll see), slight breeding kink, language, hint of Stockholm syndrome by technicality

*DISCLAIMER!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest*

A/N🎤: firstly, sorry for how long it’s taken me to write this😓 life and work have been jumping me heavy lately which has unfortunately made the desire to write very low, BUT I FINALLY GOT A BREAK FROM THAT🤗!

Second, I’m honored to be your first ask and am so happy to hear you love “No Way Home”!! So to answer your question, I technically have two answers

For the first few months, Sugar (that’s Ari’s nickname for reader so that’s what we’ll refer to her as) mostly stays in her - well, unknowingly Ari’s - room not really interacting with anyone

She’s still dealing with the sense of guilt from Brittany’s capture and death, plus mourning the life she once knew

Just as he promised though, Ari is there checking on her day and night. Bringing her food, water, or anything else she might need

*whenever he finds her asleep, he even makes sure to cover her with a blanket so she’s not too cold. As you could probably guess, it makes Robert sick

The first couple of days, she barely touched her meals though. Just sitting or lying in bed while the food stayed untouched exactly where Ari left it on the bedside table

Robert couldn’t care less about it (it’d mean more food for him anyway), while Ari silently worried

“You gotta eat something sugar,” he gently tried to coax the next time he brought breakfast. The steaming bowl of oatmeal making her stomach gurgle from the cinnamon and sugar caressing her nose. “Cmon eat something for me. Please?”

Maybe it was the hunger that finally got the best of her. Or it could’ve been Ari’s deep yet soothing rasp paired with his caring gaze. Either way, a small smile was curling along his pink lips when his sugar took a bite from the spoon he held near her mouth.

“Good girl.”

From then on, sugar slowly began to talk more when Ari would visit. When she finally flashed him a small smile, it’s as if he could physically feel his heart expand

And when she dared journey downstairs? Her little patter of footsteps walking up behind Ari to say a sweet yet quiet, “Good morning.”?! He was like a child on Christmas his smile was so bright

Her own cheeks heated at the sight. Secretly, and a little shamefully, loving the slight tilt to it

Now when she gets completely comfortable, a typical day starts with sugar making breakfast for everyone. Ari stealing loving glances as he “reads” the paper. Robert usually comes back from his shift at the gas station just as the food hits the table

“This looks good sweetheart, but you know you don’t have to cook every day,” Ari says pulling out her seat - next to him as per usual.

“Well, I figured I should contribute somehow,” she shyly shrugs. “I don’t wanna just eat your food and take up space.”

“Yet that’s exactly what’s happening,” Robert grumbles. Ari’s quick to kick his shin under the table making him yelp in pain; clearly disapproving his attitude

“Don’t listen to him. This is your home now.”

After everyone’s done, she moves towards the sink to wash the dishes but Ari instructs Robert - or Bobby as he and only he can call him - to do it instead. “You’ve done enough. Rest,” Ari winks before he’s soon off to start his shift.

In the meantime, she’ll clean around the house, wash clothes, and even read something either from the collection on the bookshelf in the living room or a book Ari happens to “find” here and there

And although she’s been warned to not stay out too long, she’ll sneak off and visit Ari for a while.

“Bobby know you’re out here Sugar?,” Ari asks with a warning tilt to his brow and a sternness to his tone. Both know it doesn’t mean anything though.

“No. But I think we both know he prefers me gone anyway.”

Gently, his firm hands are gripping her sides to lift her on the counter next to the register. His fingertips brushing along her cheek before adjusting her glasses.

“He still wants you to be careful,” he responds meeting her deep brown eyes in such a gaze that it’s difficult for her to breathe let alone hear what he says. “I do too.”

They talk and laugh not caring of the time that passed. He’d even have her favorite snack waiting - gummy bears.

Sometimes those innocent visits became a little more from his wandering hands. “You’re too cute you know that?”, he’d whisper slowly dragging his fingers along her thighs higher and higher until her lips were parting with a small gasp as he made contact with her panties growing stickier by the minute.

Her mind already beginning to feel hazy as his thick index finger traced along her slit

“Can’t believe I get to call you all mine.”

She never corrected him on that last one. Instead feeling her cheeks heat - along with other parts that would make her squirm.

One day she was bold enough to tell Ari of those tingles he so easily produced in her. So giddy and light from his sweet pecks along her jaw that the words slipped before she could stop them. His eyes seemed to darken at that confession letting his large hands creep to her hips. “Yea tingles feel funny but good huh? I know all about those.”

That’s how things became more intimate. One sneaking to the other for a quickie needing to feel each other as close as possible. Trying to be extra quiet while Robert slept in his room down the hall.

Sugar had never experienced a more difficult task with Ari pushing and pulling in and out at the most addicting pace while his mouth left open mouth kisses along her chest. Knowing just how much force to use that had her eyes rolling back. Not to mention the sinful words tumbling from his lips.

“Shit..so tight you make me wanna stay forever sugar.”

“Cmon let go for me, can feel you right there. Mm that’s it, good girl.”

The only thing was those damn condoms she made him wear.

“I-I just wanna be safe,” she shyly announced halting his nibbles along her neck.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he smiled, truly smitten by his sugar and her adorable nervousness. “No need to worry. I completely agree.”

As he watched her sleep after their late night rounds, he couldn’t help but let his callused fingers trace along her abdomen. His mind perfectly picturing it round with his baby inside. The perfect combination of their gorgeous mama and strikingly handsome papa

“One day,” he thinks eventually drifting off himself. For his sugar’s sake, he’ll play safe for now. Hopefully sooner rather than later though, that dream of his will become reality

His lineage able to prosper and flourish as the ancestors intended.

[girlbloggersfolly]

DELTA DAWN - part 2// Bee in your bonnet

Pairing: camp counselour!joel miller x camp lifeguard!afab!reader

Rating: E!!!!! 18+ MDNI

Word count: 4.8k

Summary: (1979 summer camp AU) Things go south one morning after a particularly catty argument between Joel and our lifeguard in Joel's boat shed/self proclaimed 'man cave'. - Pictures in the moodboard are simply to get the imagination racing and for me to spill my pinterest all over your screens, the reader is at no point described!

Chapter warnings: age gap (20 + 49), enemies to loves - i mean it, mean!joel, lowkey mean!reader but we love them both, slight vouyerism, cigarette smoking, talk of pornographic magazines, complicated relationship (billy and reader dw), oral (fem receiving), semi-public sex (door open but thats it, degrading, pet names (kiddo, sweetie, doll - the good stuff ykyk), fingering idk, slow burn, fem!masturbation dirty talk, no descriptors of reader except she has hair and is a similar height to joel cause im tired of the lack of tall girl representation in fics, sorry... if that ruins it for you just imagine i never said that), NO USE OF Y/N.

a/n: eekkkk ok you can probably tell from his horrific piece of writing that ive never done proper smut and i went a little overboard but i'm sure you'll like it anyway. i've probably got one or two more parts of their story left in me, depending on how happy i want the ending to be. Id love to get requests if anyone has any bright ideas! I love the 3 people who are reading this, it really makes me blush and you don't even know it.... also lmk if you want to be on the taglist for any future writings xxxx

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You were up in the chair early. Waking especially to sit and watch as the sun rose higher over the lake and above the pines, hoping to get there before Joel, just so you had time to ground yourself. You toyed with the cigarette between your fingers, a habit of yours that had really been getting you through the last agonising couple of days of avoiding Joel Miller, but there was no putting it off this morning. 

Kayaking. Something you’d never really specialised in and were not convinced you'd know how to deal with if things were to go south.However, as always, you kept your doubts to yourself. Joel was taking the kids today, he was good with them and obviously knew what he was doing on the water. You hoped that meant no accidents.

“No smoking in the chair, cupcake.” Here we go again.

“Good morning to you too, cupcake.” You rolled your eyes, not bothering to turn around to see the one thing on your frazzled mind, not bothering to put out the cigarette either, 

“Kids’ll be here soon, Lou’s bringin’em” He said coldly in reply, standing beside your chair, his face level with your hips as he looked out to the water.

 Even being raised above him like this you still felt vulnerable, what was it about him? He turned to look up at you with his big arms crossed against his torso, “so, be a doll and put that thing out f’me will’ya?” The chair rocked slightly as he patted it, condescending as ever. 

You rolled your eyes yet again and dropped the cigarette down beside his feet, raising your eyebrows. It was bratty and yeah probably a little crueller than required, but it felt damn good. “Happy?” you were pushing it, really pushing it, you could see it in Joel's hard expression. his impressive profile was only defined by the hot mid-morning sun as he glared up at you through narrowed eyes. He put on his ray-bans and turned away. =

The kids hung onto every word he said as he stood in front of you explaining to them how to kayak, in a way they never did with Billy or Abel, or even Sharon. You tried to listen, tried to look out at the lake, tried to do something that wasn't blatantly staring at his tight ass, the muscles in his back under his t-shirt. It was torture, adjusting in your chair, shifting around like a bitch in heat. 

“Eyes on the water, lifeguard,” He taunted you from the deck, you’d really needed to remember your sunglasses next time. 

If you thought the other day was bad, this was worse, sitting there melting into your lifeguard chair watching Joel being the hottest man alive and not caring how it might make you feel. The kids were playing capture the flag in the woods by the light of the setting sun, giving you a minute to cool off against a tree, the cigarettes lighting themselves at this point. 

Your skin was lit up by the orange light that dotted through the trees as it sunk below the horizon. It was the first moment of mercy you’d gotten from this god-awful day of Joel Miller and his stupid tanned skin, the little sweat droplets on the back of his neck, his salt and pepper scruff, the thought of how it would feel against your inner-

“Found you,” You smelt Billy before you saw him, his freckled arms embracing you from behind, knocking you out of your dreamy state. 

“You know this thing? It's called a shower, real cool I hear?” You chuckled, trying to laugh a little to disguise it as a joke, the last thing it was.

“Haha, very funny,” Billy smirked, planting wet kisses across your neck from behind, the moustache he’d been trying to grow tickling your jaw. 

“Quit it,” You raised your hands, your shoulders tensing like an alarmed cat as he grinds messily against you, “There's kids around you little shit.”

Billy murmured a chuckle against your skin, his tongue tracing against it, a sensation that had the hairs on your arms standing up. “I’ll make it quick,” Now there was something you could count on. 

“I said quit,” you turned abruptly to look at him, brushing yourself off, realising the harsh tone of voice you’d used. He looked pained, his eyebrows furrowed, eyes darting around your face quizzically. 

“You know what,” Billy folded his arms, looking you up and down bitterly, “Im tired of you being a fuckin’ prude the whole time,” His voice was raised, whiny, trying to sound like his father. 

You scoffed, putting your head in your hands and shaking your head in disbelief, this kid was insane. “Its not my duty to fuck you whenever you so wish, christ, you really are an entitled son of a gun,” 

Billy stamped out his cigarette onto the ground, “Nasty bitch,” he shook his head, spitting on the floor, charming. “Don’t know why I even bother.” He marched off, back to his cabin probably, off to write another song about how much he hates women you’d have the pleasure of hearing at his next gig.

The day was dragging, it seemed unceasing, like this spiralling, horny, angry mess that was your body. The forest was quiet again without Billy’s cursing, often you’d hear a distant shout from a kid who’d been caught or a group of them running around, but it was hard to differentiate from a bird call, or the wind in the trees.

“Trouble in paradise.” Great. 

“Look, I am not in the mood, so be a sweetie and kindly fuck the fuck off.” 

That earnt an impressed chuckle from behind you, another pair of broad shoulders leaning beside you on the tree. “S’ my darn woods, ‘do whatever the hell i like, thank you missy,”

“Joel I'm serious, whatever witty little jabs you're cooking up, save them for another day,” You looked to him, it was hard to look away whenever you did. 

“Wasn’t,” He shrugged, there was that gruff, southern nonchalance yet again, christ how it got to you, the complete opposite of Billy’s incessant bitching. You almost wished he cared enough to go off on you the way Billy tried to. 

“Well…” you paused, eyes darting over his face, the strong profile, low set brows, those pouty lips you’d gotten pretty damn used to this week. “Dont,” you concluded.

“You really do have a bee in your bonnet don't you, kiddo,” there it was, just as you’d predicted, calm and collected and making you want to blow his brains out.

You shrugged. “Its Billy,” You shook your head, well that was only one of the bees in your very buzzy bonnet, Joels fucking face was the other. “You heard?” 

He nodded, “I heard enough,” you both stood in the ambience of the evening, kids whooping, birds sounding from the trees. “Billy’s a dick you know that, ‘don’t know a single fucker from here to Timbuktu that dont know that,”  

You couldn't help but chuckle, relaxing further against the tree, your shoulders untensing for the first time in weeks, forgetting who the enemy was. “You know fuckers in Timbuktu?” 

“I bet I do,” he nodded, crossing his arms against his broad chest, the camp staff t-shirt barely accommodating his largeness. 

Joel sighed, looking over at you, “got one of them cancer sticks you're always suckin’ on?” you had a whole pack of them in your back pocket. 

He thanked you and lit one with the janky lighter you'd stolen from Abel, smoke muddying your view of him. There was a lull. “I don't know why you lead that bastard on,” he said through the smoke. 

“Im hardly leading him on,” You scoffed, lighting a cigarette for yourself. “He was the one who wanted to keep this to strictly fuck-buddies,” Lucky for you, imagine being Billies girlfriend, jeepers.

“Sounds like you can’t even do that?” he smirked, and there he was again. 

“You know, as I find myself repeating these days, s’really none of your business,” you laughed, turning to him, sighing through the familiar heat in your abdomen, the butterflies that felt more like horse flies in your stomach back and buzzing harder than ever. 

“You're makin’ it my business, havin’ your lover's spat in my earshot.” he retaliated calmly.

you opened your mouth to bite back with something that attempted to match his condescension, but that was an impossible task. “You know what,” you settled on, again grasping for something to finish that sentence. “Fuck,” again you were gotten the better of.

“I’m stuck with him for the next three weeks, so, gotta keep sweet for that long I guess, maybe put out a couple times.” 

He nodded, stamping out his cigarette next to billies, “S’a damn shame,” The eye contact felt like glass in your eyes, felt a big hand twisting your throat till it turned blue, it was those eyes of his in that permanent, laboured squint which you assumed came with age, they killed you. A damn shame. The words played on repeat like a song on Sharon's broken radio, the static soiling his voice in your mind. A damn shame. He was right, it was a damn shame. 

“Would you make sure to deal with those kayaks tomorrow morning’, lifeguard? Just gotta pile em’ up in the shed,” He said over his shoulder as he turned to saunter away. 

Before you could get your bearings, you were alone again, admittedly less grateful for it too. 

Morning, kayaks, shed. Sounded like a relatively agreeable task that wasn't asking too much right? Wrong. You were lucky your body had gotten into the rhythm of waking up at sunrise cause this was a goliath task. Hauling 15 kayaks from one side of the lake to the other wasn't something you’d factored into your morning of rest and relaxation. You’d planned to take a secret dip, maybe grab a coffee, take a shower if you had time. But no, you were out sweating under the morning sun, huffing like a workhorse.

When the last kayak was hauled into the dirty little shed you reclined on the desk, all dusty and grotty but it didn’t even matter. Heck, you weren't even perturbed by the smug house spider that was perched close to your palm, not even giving a second thought to the porn magazine discarded beside your head. All you could think about was how this wasn't what you’d bargained for when you agreed to go on this little jaunt up to the northwest, oh yeah, and how much you hated Joel Miller. 

After a couple of minutes of huffing and puffing, grumbling to yourself about how you were meant to be in LA by now, living a rich and famous life as some kind of starlet, a model, an actress maybe. The shed was a mess, every surface littered with junk. There was fishing equipment, books, more beer cans than you could count, the whole thing screamed Joel. 

Soon, without even meaning to, your nimble fingers were straightening objects, tossing the cans into the bin, dusting, flicking through boxes, you even took the spider outside. 

“Hey,” You heard a jumpy voice from behind you, clearly receiving the same fright you’d got from the sound of his voice. “What are you-” It was Joel, an accusatory expression all over his knitted brow. He saw the small desk bin behind your back, the cans in it, he saw the neat shelves and dusted desk with all his papers stacked orderly. 

“Hey hey hey, I have a system..” Joel bolted over to where you stood, snatching the bin out of your hands, his knuckles grazing yours, you were in deep if such a small gesture made your heart drop so far down. “There's a system,” he repeated, running a hand through his hair and leaning back on his uncluttered desk, looking… pained, addled by the whole thing. 

You scoffed, enjoying seeing Joel off guard, it was always you getting snuck up on, getting caught in a vulnerable situation. “Is the system complete chaos, cause wow Joel, im impressed,” you put your hands on your hips, your little red shorts riding dangerously high. 

“No one asked you to go messing in my affairs,” he tutted, rubbing his brow, god he was a drama queen. 

“Your affairs?” you laughed maniacally, “By your affairs do you mean a few dozen beer bottles, some dusty kayaks and your crusty spank bank mag?” 

He scoffed, looking down at the magazine down on the desk. He'd been got, he’d give you that. “Just clear off, don’t need your bitchin,” He turned his back on you, tampering with your neat new order on his desk, “too damn early,”

You were furious, not even a thank you? If not for drastically improving his workspace, at least for stacking the kayaks, a lot of work if you did say so yourself. “Are you kidding,” you whined, walking up to stand behind him, trying to get his attention. 

“I’ve been doing hard fucking labour, sleepy head, what were you doing? Jerking it into a porn mag I'm guessing?” he chuckled at this, turning over his shoulder to look at your exasperated expression. “Hard labour?” he murmured, audibly amused by your claim.

“Oh you poor thing,” he mocked, turning round fully to look at you, “Doll, you ain’t done a day of hard labour in your pretty little life.” He smirked wildly.

“You don’t know a thing about my life Miller,” you said, sounding like some cheesy cowboy movie, his accent rubbing off on her a little. This caused a full belly laugh to erupt from him, it caught you off guard.

“Your life ain't nothin’ but sunshine and rainbows, sugar, maybe a day’a ‘hard labour’ would do you some good.” He chuckled, walking across the room and correcting the ‘mess’ you made of his ‘system’. “Fuck you,” you bellowed, crossing your arms, your eyes wide and full of fury as you watched him in all his casual, condescending glory. 

“You are maybe the most infuriating motherfuck on this damn earth,” you said through your teeth, so mad, so hot, so done with it all. He just chuckled again, raising his eyebrows, you were starting to just want his attention, wanting him to reciprocate your anger, not caring how you got there. 

“And by the way, I don't care how you see it, I've been up all morning slaving away at something I am certainly not paid for and I don't even get a thank you?” You blurted out, the words falling out of you, you convinced yourself you felt sweat actually drip from your chin. 

He turned to you, annoyingly amused, but there was something else, an underlying rage that really disrupted the usual sedate presence he provided. “Thank you?” He smirked, quirking an eyebrow. 

You paused, never had you ever felt so damn angry at a man. “Listen up-” you began with a huff before being interrupted by Joel stalking over to you with a hostile smirk on his face. Towering over you even though you were a similar height, you backed up against his desk very slightly, trying to keep your chin raised cockily. 

“Are you always this fuckin’ cranky?” he shook his head in amused disbelief and let out an exasperated scoff at the stuttering look on your face. 

You could feel your heart beating like that of a hamster, hammering against your chest. He was so close you could smell him, old spice deodorant, campfires, the slightest tang of sweat and lake water, also the musty dust smell of the shack, you thought you might faint like some Victorian chick. 

He was close, too close for comfort, his muscular frame, the threat of a non-sedate Joel wasn't something that settled you. You gazed into those eyes of his, narrow and all-seeing under a thick, heavy brow. “How’re we gonna cheer you up, huh kiddo?” He raised his eyebrows in mock concern, your mouth was left agape, eyes so wide they might pop. Joel was closer now, looking down at her very slightly, his breath fanned over her face. Holy fuck.

“Can’t have you all bitchy after doin’ me one little task, now can we?” He said after a beat, placing his hand on your jaw, wiping away a caked bit of dirt, probably from all that ‘hard labour,’ his big thumb moved from your jaw to swipe across your lips softly, gently feeling the plush, pillowy skin, freshly chapstick-ed from the Carmex in your pocket. “Can we, sugar?” he repeated the rhetorical question down at you. She shook her head lightly, the obedience hitting her like a 10 foot wave. 

“That's better, that's it, that's better,” He said softly, like he was talking to a jumpy animal. “Not so hard being a nice girl is it now? Not so bad?” he cocked his head and raised her brow, she shook her head absentmindedly once more, completely entranced by whatever was happening to her right here against Joel's desk. 

He nodded, his hand darting between your teeth, his other fingers holding your jaw still underneath. The other hand rested precariously on your thigh, leaning closer so you were sat up on the desk, right beside the dirty mag. 

He let his hand trace drowsy circled under the hem of your shorts, his eyes following, “Think you're cute?” he smirked, his eyes told a different story, taunting, stormy. “walkin' round in those little damn shorts, all prissy, like you own the place?” He said darkly, almost to yourself, holding your eyes with his, his thumb swiping between your teeth, pressing the pad against your tongue. “Suck,” You did it straight away, hollowing your cheeks out and letting whatever this was happen.

You convinced yourself it was some kind of gross fever dream, being out in the heat for the last few days had given you hallucinations, but it felt real, the taste was real on your tongue, his taste. you lapped it up like medicine. 

He clenched his jaw and gazed at your lips wrapping around his thick thumb, fuck. His fingers grazed the seam of your bikini bottoms under your shorts, he could already feel how warm you were down there, how much this was getting to you. He held eye contact with you as he pulled your shorts off, motioning for you to lift your ass, you were feeling compliant, a rare feeling. 

Your bikini bottoms followed, leaving you bare on the desk, the lifeguard top riding up your midriff revealing your glistening (very 70s (interpret that however you like)) cunt to the daylight that streamed in through the open door - a risk Joel seemed to be taking, or something he probably hadn't even considered. 

He rolled his neck, his hands on his hips, he seemed to be considering his options, weighing up the consequences. You pushed your knees together, hoping for a little modesty, the answer was no as Joel's big hands reached down and parted your legs once again. 

“Ah, ah, baby,” he smirked wildly, truly a man starved. He reached down and dragged his finger between your folds, holding the wet digit to the light. It was all achingly slow, he sucked his finger clean, his eyes on yours as he tasted you, letting out a gruff, guttural groan. 

“This gonna keep you sweet?” he said with an icy smirk, her skin was like a furnace; a sweaty, wet, flustered, confused puddle on this desk, dripping everywhere. “Keep you outta my way for a couple days maybe, kiddo?” He chuckled, looking at her domineeringly. “How’s that sound?” 

You nodded eagerly, your expression desperate, whiny, you needed this bad. “When you touch yourself, whadd’ya think 'bout?” he taunted, leaning a hand either side of your hips on the desk, “You,” you gave in, it was just too easy when he talked to you like that. 

“Show me,” He smirked, his words almost a growl, you raised your eyebrows. “Your a pretty little idiot aren'cha?” Now he was just being mean. “Touch yourself the way you do when you're in your cabin, up in your bunk, squirmin’ around,” 

It was so easy, to let him order you around, to succumb to it. The heat, all the bantering, it had melted you into putty in his hands, it’d get to anyone. So there you were, on Joel Miller's desk, bare on the bottom half, your hand drawing tight circles around your aching clit. 

“Fuck,” you bit down on your lip, it was all overwhelming, the feeling of an orgasm coiling around your spine, the blistering, green-house-type heat that had you all rosy and sweaty, the fact that Joel was stood right there, crossing his arms, watching you like a hawk. You knew he’d be a voyeur. 

You watched as his wire snapped and he’d had enough of just watching, adjusting the tent in his shorts. He knelt down in front of you, his eyes looking bigger than usual from this angle, wilder almost feral. he pulled at your hips violently, hoisting you around so your back was flat against the desk, your head leant up against the wall so you could watch exactly what he was going to do to you. 

His mouth was hot against you, licking a stripe up your seam. You could’ve sworn you heard him moan at the taste, felt the vibrations against your core. “This cunt is wasted on Keenan,” He chuckled, not even pulling away from you to lay his jab at Billy, he never could resist the chance. 

You moaned loudly, your hair flying into his hair, feeling the chocolatey, salt and pepper ends in your fingers and you pulled hard, close now. “Don’t fucking stop,” you whimpered, grinding your hips against his face, nose deep in your pussy. 

“Fuck, does he kiss it this good, doll?” He murmured, the vibrations of his baritone drawl against your aching clit were enough to make you toss your head back in sheer ecstasy, that coil winding uncomfortably tight, threatening to snap. 

“He doesn't.” you chuckled through moans, Billy had never ever eaten you out, no matter how many killer blowies you’d served to him on a silver platter. This seemed to appal Joel, who only licked deeper, slower against you, it was agonisingly good, toe curling. He scoffed down there, his thick index finger working at your hole now, dipping in easily despite how tight you were.

 “Poor thing, thas’ why you're so wound up,” He mewled from below, his voice patronising, taunting, but it touched you, “haven’t had someone take care of this pretty cunt in too long hmm? shit, I’d be mean too.” He said with a wet smirk, pulling away to slot another finger in, but you wouldn't give. “Won’t be able to take my cock if you can take two fingers down here,” He chuckled, taunting you further.

“Please don't stop Joel,” you squealed, pulling his hair painfully tight between your fingers, his condescending words only making you hotter, you weren’t usually into that, but shit, Joel could be wearing a fucking tutu and you’d be into it, come to think of it… 

He was grinning smugly as he pushed his fingers into you at a gruelling pace, the desk shook underneath you, your head thrown back against the wall. “Billy hasn't done me any damn favours down here, you're tight as a virgin, baby,” you could see the smirk on his stupid face even with your eyes clenched shut. 

Your release hit harder than it ever had before, your leg shook hard, a string of ‘fuck’s and ‘holy shit’s, laced with a fair pinch of ‘Joel’s and ‘baby’s, blurted out of your lips, you felt your abdomen clench and moaned incoherently, but Joel wasn't quitting, still kitten licking at your inflamed core, fingers curling up and into you, finding a new depth with every push. 

“Joel stop, it-its,” you panted, not even recognising your own voice now, your vision blurred. Overstimulated didn't even sum it up, that shit hurt. 

He didn't care, lost in your taste, lost in the feeling of you clenching around his digits. “Cocky little lifeguard, you're the bane of my life, you know that sweetie?” He said against your wetness, not giving a flying fuck how uncomfortable this was getting, knowing soon you’d ride it into another earth-eating orgasm. 

“Really shouldn't be doin’ this with’ya, Can’t be,” He said over your moans as the discomfort bled into insatiable pleasure, the desk hard against your clammy ass, your release leaking down your thigh and pooling below you. “Holy fuck-” you squealed, your hand on his shoulder to stop yourself from collapsing, the other interwined in his thick hair, that must’ve hurt. 

“How old even are you?” he asked with a mischievous chuckle, pulling his face away and slowing his hand movements, no no no no no. Your brain was fuzzy, all you could process was that Joel had stopped and that felt like death. “20,” She said quickly, needing him to continue. He knew what he was doing, taking a moment to process, watching the way you were squirming, so desperate for him yet again. 

“You're too young for me, kiddo,” He said as he dove back into your crotch, a very contradictory statement when reflected against his actions so far this morning, i know. “I am not,” you bit back through a whimper, pouting, your eyes fluttering shut once again.

 “How old’re you anyways,” you panted, your words all broken and high pitched, too fucked-out to feel humiliated. “76?” You chuckled, feeling your second orgasm of the morning chasing after you. 

He bit down ever so slightly on your clit, causing you to wince and buck your hips, it didn't cause any damage or hurt, just hard enough to shut your bratty ass up. “49, missy,” he replied coldly from below you. “Watch it,” 

“You wanna take my 76 year old cock next? think you can take it?” He smirked, pulling away to focus on his hand movements, in and out, hitting that spongy part of you, deeper than you could ever get. You nodded, words almost escaping you for the first time in your smart-ass life. He chuckled deeply at this, a hearty sound you were starting to crave like a meth-head. “She’s a trooper, ain’t she?” He breathed in your ear, planting a small, firm kiss on your neck, his fingers gaining a bruising pace, loud wails escaping your quivering lips.

“Fuck j-joel,” you stammered, your hot breath fanning against his neck, “want, need your cock,” you were getting needy, washed up by the incoming wave of your orgasm, ready to hit just as hard as before, if that was physically possible. “Don't get greedy now,” He smirked down at you, eyes wild. Hot tears were rolling down your cheeks, salty and stinging, your body shaking, giving way to another tortuous release. 

He pulled his hand away and sucked eagerly at his drenched fingers, watching as you came apart on the desk, moaning and whining for him. 

He sat you up, grabbing a coke from his outdoor refrigerator and leaning against it as he opened it, muscles flexing he clicked it open, tossing the bottle opener to the side and handing it to you. You grasped it with clammy palms, your vision slowly coming back, your body still fucked-out and trembling, cock-dumb for a cock you hadn't even had. 

“Welp,” He put his hands on his hips, like some suburban dad done with a barbecue, “that was real nice, weren't it?” He patted you on the shoulder, ignoring the bewildered expression on your face. 

“Duty calls, kids’ll be down here in an hour or so,” he slapped his thighs and raised his eyebrows, it was as if he’d just given you a friendly handshake, not eaten you out and made you cum twice. 

“Aren’t you going to..” you stopped yourself, you’d been awaiting the next round, (even if you weren't sure you could take another round) the one he’d talked about with that same smug look on his face as he finger-fucked you. 

He grinned down at her, ruffling your hair, “another time hey kiddo?” he said kindly, but it was perhaps the furthest thing from kind you’d ever seen. You glared up at him in disbelief, mouth agape, cheeks rosy, skin glassy from tears of pleasure, you didn't even know that was a thing. He patted you on the shoulder, smiling earnestly, that glint of mischief turned to one of absolute cruelty in his eyes. 

“Atta’ girl.” 

And he was gone. Joel was out the door as quickly as he’d entered, leaving you panting, bottomless and flushed and sweaty, your shorts half way across the room, the coke bottle dampening your fingers.

 He’d really done a number on you, gotten you all needy and riled up, then done something to you that no one had ever bothered with. Then he’d just left, like it wasn't the best you’d ever felt, like you hadn't been imagining how many babies you were going to give him, what colour flowers’d be in your bouquet at the wedding.

 It was embarrassing; being humiliated yet a-fucking-gain by a man well over twice your age, legs trembling on the soaked desk, the model on the front of his porno magazine beside you grinning up at you smugly, fucking bitch. 

[recklessramos]

Blissful

Will Ramos x plus size fem reader

18+!!

So the other day I had a thought about Will that just wouldn’t shift from my mind so I decided to take it to my blessed notes app, which made the thought turn into a writing idea. Suddenly I have almost 10,000 words and if I don’t post this I think I’ll go crazy. I’ve put my whole pussy into this (lmao) and it’s ma cursed baby however this is the first smut I’ve written since 2021 so be kind:))))

Warnings-

9,692 words of absolutely feral smut I am disgraceful!!, mentions of negative body image and reader being on a healing journey, sickening fluff, mentions usage of weed, PIV sex, unprotected sex (all together now ‘wrap it before you tap it!’) oral (male and female rec), Will is PACKING, soft dom(?) Will, use of ‘slut’, lots of dirty talk, flirting, hair pulling, cum play, clit spanking, light choking, spanking, spit, edging (fem rec), overstimulation, pet names, use of ‘y/n’ I think that’s everything but let me know if I’ve forgot anything!

This is completely self fulfilling lmao😭😭 Also the whole writing process of this felt so blissful(ly frustrating😭😭) so ofc I had to call it blissful. Also because it’s Will duh.

Even though this was written with a curvy reader in mind, this is for everyone!!! We all deserve love and appreciation (and earth shattering pleasure)!!!!

Also please excuse the low quality collage I made, I tried my best💀 Anyway I’m going straight to hell and I’m going there happy and horny🤍

GIF credits: julien-mayfair and all the pics in the collage are from Pinterest so dm me for removal!

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You’d been struggling with your body image recently and even though you persevered with your affirmations, vigorous self-care and weekly therapy the thoughts still clouded your mind throughout the day. Will was aware of the fact you were on a healing journey and you couldn’t ask for more from him.

He was there with you on the easier days when you flaunt all your curves and see no issue on having your stretch marks peeking through your crop tops, or how your back rolls are hugged by your shirt. He loved seeing how your outfit hugged your curves, how you smile at yourself while repeating your affirmations in the mirror. He would even repeat them back to you, ‘you are so worthy, so loveable and so fucking beautiful’ he’ll say to you as his hands sneak from your waist to cup your stomach with soft fingers and his adoring grin that never failed to make your stomach flutter.

On the days like today when the thought of standing in front of a mirror causes your stomach to spin with anxiety, eyes brimming with tears, he’d wrap his arms around you so you could hide your face in his chest as he spoke your affirmations to you. It may take five or ten minutes of staying with your back to the mirror and your face in his chest before you can turn to face your reflection but when you do the bright, warm smile Will showcases is enough to make your chest swell in love and appreciation.

He whispers gentle words of unconditional love in your ear as your eyes scan over your body, you breathe through the discomfort and focus on staying calm and centred. At first the affirmations you repeat feel ridiculous, but after five minutes your shoulders have released their tension and you're beginning to ease into your body.

There’s gentle music playing in the background of your conversation with Will, which only consists of sweet words and soft laughter as he tickles over the sides of your torso. You move from standing in front of the mirror to sitting on the floor, crossed legged with Will behind you. His legs are out on either side of you giving you easy access to lean back into his body, his clothed chest pressing into your back. You can sit comfortably like this for hours, just you and him and the reflection of you you're learning to become acquaintances with. Luckily for you this was both your day off from work, so it can be spent with just you two in your home, smoking weed, cooking your favourite meals while singing along to some of your favourite songs together.

With a full belly and a blissfully cloudy mind from the joint you shared after the time spent in front of your mirror, you end up on the couch cuddled under a blanket watching one of Will’s favourite movies. Your bodies are intertwined, your mind at ease from any negativity. When you’re together like this, nothing else matters.

After a couple hours you start to fidget through boredom, tapping your foot to the sound of nothing and letting out exaggerated sighs every now and again. It’s not that the movie that Will chose for you to watch was boring, it was just that you couldn’t stop thinking about all the other things you could be doing together. You saw yourself on your knees, arms pulled back and pinned to your back by Will, face pushed into the sofa while Will rammed into you at a torturously slow and hard pace. You picture how your ass will slap into the ending dip of his v lines, how deep the tip of his cock will land in your throbbing pussy.

‘What- why can’t you keep still?’ you freeze in reaction to Will’s question, not even realising you’d been shifting your hips around in an unknowing effort for some relief from the ache on your clit. ‘Uh- I’m not even moving!’ you try to argue back but he drops his eyebrows, slightly squinting his eyes suspiciously. ‘I’m just trying to get comfy.’ You try in hopes that he doesn’t figure out that the movie he’d chose just wasn’t keeping you distracted from the lustful thoughts that burned into your mind, but to no avail as a smirk pulled at his lips. Will could read you like an open book, there was no hiding when you were sad or feeling insecure or so horny you were about to start grinding the couch cushions.

‘Hmm is that true?’ his tone dropped, he knew you were lying and that you were really aching for him to touch you, but it’s Will- of course he’s not going to give you what you want right away. You only replied by slightly nodding, you could either give in and tell him what you want, or you could be the stubborn brat you often chose to be in these situations just to find out what could happen on the other end of things; the grass is greener on the other side after all.

Right?

‘Yeah, we might have to think about getting some new cushions for the couch. These ones are awfully uncomfortable.’ you mutter back, jutting your hips around at the end of your sentence just to back up your case. Also so you can try and ease the throbbing that was making your stomach ache and pussy clench around nothing. You needed to be filled up by his cock right now.

For a long moment you both stare at each other, waiting for the other to say something. The air was becoming heavy, your body was curving into him as a reaction to the thought of having his cock in you. He noticed this change in your body, chuckling slightly and shaking his head.

‘We could always go to bed if it’s that much of an issue that you can’t focus on the movie.’ He nodded his head towards the stairs, you manage to hide the raise in your eyebrows as the idea makes you press your thighs together.

‘It’s only eight.’ You glance down at his lips as you continue your exploration on how far you can take it till you give in. Will could never give in, he’d happily tease you for the rest of the night if you choose to go along with it, he had before and he’d do it again, so it all came down to how long you could hold out for.

‘I can think of a few things that’ll keep us busy for the next couple hours.’ His fingers trace your jawline ever so slightly, your lips parted and he took the opportunity to slip the tip of his thumb between them. By automatic reaction, you sucked it gently as your tongue skimmed against the pad of his thumb and as quick as it was there, it was gone with a pop of your lips. Any chance of you holding out was thrown right out the window when his lips part in a shit eating grin and you take in a hurried breath as you act on pure impulse and slam your lips against his, catching him off guard for a mere second before he gains composure again. His lips move against yours, matching your rhythm and your tongues are quickly passing over one another.

He grabs your hips and pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling him, your lips never disconnecting. You don’t waste a moment as you begin to grind against his crotch furiously, letting your soft whimpers get lost in the kiss that had your chest burning and your panties soaked.

With one of your hands on the side of his head and the other threaded into his curls, your chests pushed together so he could feel your hardening nipples through the thin layers that separate you from him, you thought you couldn’t be closer to him. You were proven wrong when he grips your body closer to his, easily flipping you over so you were laid on the couch with him above you. The kiss broke for a moment so you could both take a breath, and you took the opportunity to wrap your legs around his hips, his crotch meeting your centre as his lips meet yours again.

Your hands gripped his shirt, pulling at it desperate to lose the fabric from his body. He noticed immediately and leant back onto his knees, pulling his shirt from his tatted body. He tries to lean back down but you place a hand on his chest to stop him, his eyebrows twitch in confusion. You take your time as you scan your eyes from his neck, down his chest and toned torso, his deep v lines (oh my god don’t get me started on the v lines) to where his waistband sits lowly. You try to squeeze your legs shut because of how his Godly body makes your pussy ache desperately for attention, only pulling him closer to you in the process and finding no relief. When you meet his eyes again, they’re darkened, so much so that his dilated pupils blend with his usually brown eyes and that same shit eating grin is plastered on his face.

Although Will could be shy at times that didn’t change the fact he was aware of how hot he was, how the sharpness of his jaw line, the movement of his Adams apple when he swallows, the toned exterior of his abs all make you weak in the knees and immediately desperate to feel every inch of him deep in your guts.

One of his hands move from your hips to cup your jaw, your gaze faltering under your eyelashes. Your breaths both pick up when your soft, pleading gaze meets his dark, lustful one. His thumb softly pets over your bottom lip, you wait impatiently for it to pass into your warm mouth. When he doesn’t give you what he knows you want, you wrap your lips of the pad of it and begin to suck down onto his thumb wishing it was his cock. Your eyes plead and he knows exactly what for.

His mouth is agape and his hair is slightly dishevelled from your tugs at it, all you can think about is the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat, his hands in your hair as he fucks your mouth mercilessly. ‘Just like that angel, suck it like you would my cock.’ you let out a whimper from his dirty words, words that make you lift your hips up to him in hopes he’ll listen and give you what you want. When instead he chuckles, you begin to whimper again but he cuts you off.

‘As pretty as those noises are, they aren’t gonna get you what you want.’ your eyes look up at him with pleading and desperation, your hips trying to shift closer to his. Just as you graze his crotch with your clothed centre, he pulls his thumb from your mouth and pushes your hips down to meet the couch. ‘Look at how desperate you are, I bet your panties are soaked aren’t they?’

‘Will-’ you begin but are cut off by your own gasp as he places the ball of his palm over your clit, pushing with barely any pressure but it’s enough to earn an ‘oh my’ from you. ‘I bet you could cum in seconds just like this, when I'm barely even touching you.’ he mumbles lowly, eyes locked between your legs as you begin to grind your hips into his touch.

Soft moans tumble from your lips, your head rocks back making your chest pop up slightly, welcoming Will in when he twists your nipples between his fingers over your shirt.

‘How about we see if you really are that desperate? Hmm?’ his tone is slightly cruel and completely unhinged, but you’re so focused on how you’re finally getting some relief after what feels like hours of yearning that you don’t even acknowledge his words.

His hand begins to grind against you in circles and your hips match his rhythm in all directions against his palm. Up, down, side to side, in circles and random jolts. You don’t care how desperate it is, the fact Will is letting you get off this soon is enough of a shock for you to grab it before it may be taken from you. You flick your eyes open to see Will readjusting his crotch just as your orgasm begins to threaten to take over. ‘Fuck, you don’t know what you’re doing to me, baby.’ His nearly breathless words are enough to knock you over the edge, but just as your eyes become cloudy and your clit is throbbing so hard it feels like your pussy is going to explode his touch is lost and you literally cry out in frustration.

‘Fuck Will! Why’d you-’

‘Shhhh, don’t worry angel imma give you what you want you’ve just gotta wait a minute, okay?’ his tone is soothing and genuine, but you’re raging from the lost orgasm and your pussy is throbbing harder than ever.

‘No Will it’s never just a minute, it’s hours and I'm fucking desperate. Please I need to cum so bad.’ you’re begging for anything and Will feels the tension in your body, so he leans down to kiss you in an effort to calm you down. At first, you’re stiff and pulsing with anger, but you can’t stay too angry at him when his lips are so soft against your mouth, and his warm tongue gets you thinking about its wetness soaking your clit in languid strokes. Your body softness and you ease into the kiss before pulling back to speak.

‘Please, Will, I need it so bad.’ you beg again, hoping your soft tone and puppy eyes will get you what you want.

‘I know and I'm gonna give you what you want, just not yet okay? When have I ever left you hanging?’ at first you pout at his words, but you know he’s right. Even on nights where he’s edged you for what feels like hours, he always gives you back every orgasm he denies and sometimes more if you ask him to.

He begins to kiss down your neck, his hands tracing the hem of your shirt. His lips are soft and gentle, his tongue kitten licking over the warm skin he litters with soft pecks. His hands find their way under your shirt passing over your tummy and to the curve of your breast.

‘Can I take this off?’ he questions while tugging the fabric of your shirt, you nod in response and lean up to help him and the cool air hits your chest immediately making your nipples become harder than they already were. You return to your prior positions, his kisses finding their way down your collar bones to your chest. His eyes are closed as he savours the feeling of your soft flesh against his lips which have begun to follow over the top of your breasts.

He begins to suck on your breast and create light hickies on the skin, you feel his hand move from your hip up to your other breast and his fingers begin to twist and pull your nipple. He begins gently tugging on the tight bud causing you to gasp from the sensation. Your nipples are sensitive from the cold air and his tugs become sharper, creating goosebumps over your skin. One of your hands thread into his hair to keep it from falling into his face and the other rests on his shoulder, tracing small circles over his tattoos.

Suddenly his mouth is on your nipple, sucking and flicking his warm tongue over the cold, tight bud and your back curves, making him suck harder. Your other nipple is beginning to burn blissfully from the tugs and pinches that never end, your thighs squeeze around his waist. He hums on your nipple, releasing it with a pop but not giving you a moment to breath when he moves over to your other nipple. His fingers are now tugging at the wet, puffy nipple that’s covered in his spit, he mimics the same pinching, tugging and swiping that once accompanied the nipple that his soft tongue is working on to ease its soreness.

His name falls angelically from your lips, you begin to think you could cum just from this. Almost as if he knew your thoughts, all of his touch retreats and you whimper as the cold air hits your bare skin. His lips continue down your stomach, kissing over your stretch marks with so much love and care. He stops when he reaches your waistband, and you cut him off as he begins to speak.

‘Yes Will,’ he smirks at your impatience, knowing just how desperate you are for his mouth to devour the pool that's been created between your legs. You lift your hips as his warm hands pull off your shorts, leaving your panties on.

You feel like crying through relief when instead of teasing you anymore, he finds his place lying on his front with his head between your legs and arms wrapped around your thighs.

He kisses up the inside of your thighs, getting further away from where you need him most. One of your hands rests on the back of his head, your other squeezes one of your breasts. Will doesn’t notice this until you tug on your nipple, causing you to gasp and his eyes shoot open.

‘There you go baby; you keep making yourself feel good, okay?’ his dark eyes burn into you, making your cheeks flush but you nod in response and continue to play with your swollen bud. ‘Fuck you’re so hot, y/n.’ now it’s his turn to blush just from the sight of your eyes rolling to the back of your head from an especially hard tug on your puffy nipple.

His fingers hook under your panties to pull them to the side and the anticipation is killing you as, finally, he licks a small stripe along each of your folds- still avoiding your swollen clit that is burning for attention.

As you open your mouth to begin to beg for him to give you what you want, a heavy heave leaves your chest as he sucks your clit into his mouth. Your back curves, head digging into the couch. Both of your hands hold his head in place as his mouth begins to work on the swollen, pulsing bud in small, soft sucks and kitten licks barely on the tip of it. Moans escape your mouth endlessly, his eyes open to see yours already on him.

Will is very aware of the fact that eye contact while he eats you out drives you insane, and he uses this to his own advantage. Just a slight darkening to his eyes can push you right over the edge and with how dark his eyes already are you don’t see how they could get darker. You close your eyes, not wanting the feeling to end just yet.

He begins to move his head to meet the movement from his tongue that have become longer and harder, this sends a spark down your legs making them jolt shut on his head. He pry's your legs open and releases your clit from his mouth so he can speak with his face still stuffed between your legs.

‘Wanna hear your beautiful moans, angel.’ his words are muffled but you try your best to keep your legs open as he begins to flatten his tongue against your clit, adding a new sensation into the mix.

You moan his name over and over again with a mix of curses and ‘oh mys’, his arms now having to hold your legs open because you couldn’t stop your body as your legs begin to kick out and attempt to close on his head.

His tongue slips down between your folds to meet your pussy with a soft stroke before slipping it into your hole, collecting your sopping wetness onto his tongue and carrying it up onto your clit.

‘Fuck baby, you’re so wet for me.’ his mouth doesn’t leave your skin, so his words vibrate against your clit, you gasp out at the feeling and your orgasm begins to build in your stomach.

‘Fuck, Will I’m so close. Please don’t stop’ your words get lost through the never-ending chant of his name and the gasps you can’t hold back when he slips his tongue into your pussy again and begins to fuck you with his tongue.

His thumb finds its place on your clit in small, tight circles as his tongue begins to fuck you faster, curving up and swirling around in your dripping pussy. His eyes open to meet yours, looking up at you with complete focus on making you feel as good as you possibly can and he flashes you a slightly playful, completely smug wink. The coil in your stomach broke and with a scream of his name you come all over his tongue, mouth and chin, your legs shaking and thrashing as your nails dig into his hair. Your head is thrown so far back it aches your neck, your eyes screwed shut as flashes of white and an array of colours fill your mind. Your moans are strained and sound almost pained, the way his tongue slips in and out of you makes you come so hard it feels like you’ll never come back down.

But alas, your vision unblurs and your legs flop onto the couch, your hands unclutching his hair. His thumb moves from your clit and his hand slips up to stroke over your tummy lovingly. His tongue finally slips out of your pussy after pulling you down from your orgasm and it begins to ever so slightly lick your clit.

Your chest heaves up and down when he finally pulls his mouth from your pussy, kissing up your body until you’re face to face while his hands work to pull your underwear down your legs. You finally open your eyes to meet his heavy gaze, his beautiful (and rather fucking magical) lips are pulled up in a smile that makes your stomach flip again.

‘I love you so much.’ you manage to force your words out between your heavy breaths, your lips connect for a small kiss. ‘I was beginning to think you may hate me after the look you gave me when I didn’t let you come.’ he laughs slightly as you begin to kiss down his neck, you feel his chest rise sharply when you suck on his pulse point. ‘I could never hate you.’ your words mumble against his neck.

‘I know. I’m not done making it up to you yet, though.’ his words are daring, if you were smart you’d take the opportunity to get out while you still can. You’re too fucked to consider that though, especially when Will begins to palm himself through his jeans that he must’ve unbuttoned without you realising. He grins down at you from his knees when your eyebrows raise at the change in tone.

‘On your knees.’ his sharp words go straight to your core and you know you’re making a mess of the couch; you immediately find your place on the floor where his head nodded toward. The hardwood is cold against your skin, making you hiss through your teeth. Will notices this and directs you up so he can place a pillow below your knees. You appreciate his kindness, especially knowing what’s coming next.

‘Listen closely babe,’ you nod attentively and he continues ‘tap my leg twice and I’ll slow down, three times for me to stop completely. Okay?’ his hand cups your face, softly stroking your cheek.

‘Twice to slow down and three times to stop.’ you nod along with your words; he smiles down at you while tucking your hair behind your ears. ‘I’m ready.’ you eagerly flutter your eyes at him, the anticipation eating away at you.

‘You’re such a good girl, you want me to fuck your mouth that much?’ his tone is slightly teasing, but you’re not embarrassed. You love having his cock in your mouth, you love it even more when he cums on your tongue and directs you to stick it out so he can see the mess he made before you swallow every drop down. Maybe if you’re good enough he’ll give you exactly what he knows you want.

You nod in response to his question, your hands pulling at his jeans. He pushes them away while talking ‘Keep them behind your back, only patient girls get what they want.’ you huff in response which makes him shake his head and smirk to himself. ‘You never have been very patient, have you? Maybe I should teach you a lesson, make you wait all night just to have my cock in your mouth. Maybe make you wait all week to have it stuffed in your pussy. Make you so cock starved that you never get greedy again, you just appreciate anything that I give you.’ The idea terrifies you, literally. The thought of having none of him for one night, let alone a week makes you want to cry. It also ignites a fire in you that you didn’t know existed.

‘Or maybe I’ll be nice, give you what you want.’ he pulls his jeans and boxers down, letting his cock fling up and nearly hit his stomach while he kicks his clothes to the side. Your mouth immediately begins to water from the sight of it, your thighs squeezing together as tight as possible. His cock is long and thick and heavy, so thick that the sight of it already makes your jaw ache. It used to scare you, how big it is, but now you love the fact that you’re left with a sore jaw for days after he’s fucked your mouth; a constant reminder of the feeling of his length slipping down your throat.

‘Please Will.’ your eyelashes flutter as you plead, desperate to have his beautifully shaped cock slip into your mouth and down your throat. You want to feel the veins that line his length slip against your tongue with every thrust he delivers deep in your mouth. ‘Such a good girl begging for my cock in your mouth.’ his words send a rush to your core as his hand cups your jaw, tapping your bottom lip and you quickly open your mouth.

Your jaw loosens as the swollen, leaking tip of his cock slips between your lips. You both hum in satisfaction, his salty precum lathers your tongue deliciously. Slowly, torturously so, he begins to slowly fill your mouth. The heaviness of his cock weighs down on your tongue, your lips stretching to fit around the thickness of it. Your hands are balled in fists behind your back, your thighs squeezed together as your knees dig into the pillow below them.

‘Good girl,’ he speaks in a low raspy tone as a deep grunt escapes his mouth. His hips shift and tense, sharpening his gorgeous v lines even more. You’re completely mesmerised, even through blurry and teary eyes as you feel the tip of him hit the back of your throat. ‘Now I need you to open up for me, angel.’ he taps your throat and your blink a tear away as your throat opens for him, giving him complete access to do as he pleases to you.

His chest is tight as he pulls out of your mouth till just the tip is left between your lips before slowly pushing back in, only this time he slips down into your throat. His hands hold onto the back of your head to steady himself as he begins to gently fuck your mouth. You're grateful that he eases you into it, but so eager for more. His strokes are so slow and soft, your stomach flips with butterflies.

After a few strokes in your warm mouth his breathing is heavy and his hands clutch onto your head.

‘God, you look so good with my cock in your mouth.’ you hum as your cheeks blush from his sweet words about such a dirty thing. ‘Blushing with my cock in your mouth? You really are an angel, aren’t you?’ he chuckles at the irony and the obscenity of his words causes your cheeks to flush harder, you manage to stop the laugh that was about to escape his chest again and it's replaced with an animalistic moan when you take initiative and push his cock further down your throat. It tickles deep in your throat, your eyes burn and you gag painfully, but it’s enough to make him begin his sharp thrusts down your throat.

You try your best to keep your hands behind your back, but you end up with them gripped onto your thighs to keep yourself stable as his thrusts become faster. His cock is heavy and warm down your throat; the stretch burns and aches, but blissfully so.

Your name falls from his lips through a mix of grunts, curses, moans and gasps as your tongue pushes up against his shaft and your cheeks hollow. You finally take a breath when he pulls out of your mouth completely, both of your chest rising rapidly.

‘Come on baby, gonna fill you up now. You've earnt it.’ he grips your hands and pulls you to your feet, pressing a kiss on your forehead before guiding you over to the couch. He directs you to sit on your knees facing the arm of the couch before finding his way behind you.

‘You did so well for me, angel.’ his hands begin to stroke over your back, round to cup your breasts and gently upward to ease over your neck. ‘You took me so well.’ His praises earn a soft whimper from you, his hands now pinching your nipples again in the same torturous way as earlier. You clutch the arm rest in front of you, making your back curve and your ass pop out. You gasp as you feel his hard shaft slide against the inside of your thighs, head tilting back as the thought of having him stretching you out sends a hotness across your body.

His hands move back around to stroke up and down the length of your back lovingly, even massaging your shoulders for a moment or two. You feel his hand meet the centre of your back applying enough pressure to guide you down, so you are now leaning with your fore arms holding you up and your ass is perched up- giving Will a delicious view.

‘Fuck you’re so gorgeous.’ his words are accentuated as his fingertips graze up your curved back gently, passing over all your dips and curves. Rose tinted stretch marks litter your skin and as his slightly coarse fingertips pass over them you let out a deep breath that you’d held in, curving your back and sticking your ass out even more in the process. This slight action earns you a satisfied groan from Will and you feel his length slip between your folds teasingly, as you try to push onto the feeling his length is gone and you feel it tap against the inside of your thigh.

As his fingertips continue their passing over your flesh, back and forth over the middle of your back, dipping down onto your hips where your curves accentuate, he hums to himself while his fingers spread over the soft flesh and squeeze slightly. Your head rocks down, a warm breath slipping past your lips, the soft squeeze on your flesh is filled with so much love and affection. You can feel the passion pass from his fingertips into your body- sending another warm, wet rush to your core.

Every touch from Will causes a shudder in your stomach that sends your head nearly spinning, your pussy dripping with a mix of your wetness and his saliva. Just his fingers gently digging into your hip is making you desperate for more of him.

All of him.

‘Please, Will.’ slips past your lips in a near whisper, a light shudder spreads over your body as your core clenches on nothing again. You feel the loss of one of his hands, only for it to return to your flesh in a sharp, quick spank on your cheek. You gasp slightly, letting out a breathy moan as his hand grips the now reddened flesh, soothing the skin with his gentle caress.

‘You like that, Angel?’

His voice is quieter than usual as if he was lost in the sight of you, lust spewing from his raspy tone. You hum in response but gasp again when his hand returns in a harsher spank to the same spot that only just began to cool after the last hit. ‘You know you need to use your words, angel. Try again.’

‘Yes Will, I like it.’ Your chest is heavy, you feel your wetness slick against your inner thighs, especially after the last spank.

‘Hmm, good girl.’ He mumbles, almost to himself as he works his thumb over the sore flesh of your cheek, admiring his work.

Finally, you feel his tip slip through your folds, collecting your wetness onto his shaft and swirling his hot tip around your clit. You hold your breath tight in your chest as his tip finds your aching pussy gently, teasing your entrance cruelly.

Just when you thought he’d fill you up, another spank arrives harshly against your flesh. This time you can’t hold back the deep, guttural moan that escapes you.

You gasp out in a mix of shock and pleasure when his tip pushes into you and he eagerly fills you up, giving you no time to prepare for the stretch. It burns you deep, aching when his tip finds the deepest spot in you. ‘God, Will. Fuck, it’s so tight.’ You cry out as your eyes fill with tears from the pressure of the stretch.

‘So fucking perfect.’ you mumble, mostly to yourself as he adjusts his position so you feel his thighs against your own. ‘Jesus christ,’ he grunts breathlessly as you try to squeeze around him but fail from how much he’s already stretching you out.

The first stroke is painful, his hips slowly drawing back only halfway before filling you up again just as slowly, and you feel like you could cum already from how blissful it is. Both of your moans intertwine as he repeats the action, this time pushing into you harder. Your hands grip the couch cushion so hard your knuckles ache, his hands still digging into the flesh of your hips.

He circles his hips, the swollen tip of his cock pushing against you deeply while one of his hands retreats from your hip to slide up into your hair roughly. You feel him adjust his position again and you grip the cushion as hard as you can, preparing for what comes next.

‘Please Will, I want it. I need it.’ Your words are faint; he’d have to listen closely to hear them. Luckily for you, there’s not a day that goes by where Will never fails to listen to you as attentively as possible.

‘Angel always gets what she wants, doesn’t she?’

With one last soft stroke, his hand grips your hair roughly, his fingernails nearly piercing your skin and his cock retreats almost fully before slamming back into you. Your gasps get caught in your throat as he creates a rapid, rough pace that makes your ass slap against his v lines sharply. The sting of his cock as he pulls out, the pressure as he rips back into you- his hand gripping the roots of your hair so tight it feels as if your hair might rip out, his nails digging into your hip as his grip bruises your flesh.

All of it sends your head spinning, eyes pinched shut as his thrusts become harsher with every one that passes by, his deep groans get caught between your own gasps for air and the lewd noises of your flesh slapping together.

You can’t think of anything else as the feeling of his cock ripping into you overwhelms all your senses, your mind zoned in on how his length drags so perfectly against the deepest parts of you. You feel it in your gut when his hips meet your ass, hitting the reddened flesh creating obscene noises that make your pussy gush around him.

‘Fuck you’re taking me so well, angel- so fucking well.’ his words blur together with the sensation that builds throughout your whole body as you mutter out incoherent words and pornographic noises that you have no control over.

The earth-shattering pleasure Will is giving you makes your body burn all over, your thighs shake every time his tip meets a space deeper than your g spot, past your cervix into what feels like is in your guts.

‘Imma make you cum over and over again, baby, give my girl what she deserves. How's that sound to you?’ you moan in response, nodding your head as best as you can. He pulls at your hair harshly making your head tilt upwards.

‘I can’t give you what you want if you don’t use your words, angel. You should know this by now.’ his tone is arrogant and it makes you whimper as he leans over your body to grab your arms from under your head. He drags them behind you, pinning them against your back with the hand that was just in your hair, his other hand leaving your hip to grip the sofa to steady himself.

His thrusts transition from fast and long to short and sharp, drilling into the part of you that he knows you love the most. Your thighs tremor, it’s becoming harder to hold yourself up from how the aching in your pussy spreads over your whole body, leaving it weak. A thin layer of sweat coats both your bodies, beads slipping down the back of your thighs from where your bodies connect.

You feel your orgasm begin to approach, crying out from the sensation that tightens in your stomach.

‘Let it happen, baby. I've got you.’ Will’s words almost get lost in the feeling of your stomach bursting, but the reassurance lets you slip over the edge completely. You gasp as your head spins and your thighs shake ruthlessly as they try to hold you up through the intensity. Your ears ring, your vision blurs, your moans come to a momentary halt before a cross between a wail and cry breaks in your throat. Will fucks you through the whole thing, his grip on your wrists that he pins against your back grounding you back to the moment as you come down from your high.

You're left a breathless, teary mess as he pulls out slowly to ease any discomfort.

Your minds still so blurry that you don’t realise Will has laid you onto your back until a couple minutes later, which is also when you finally take a deep breath that cleanses your lungs from the restriction your gasping created.

When you open your eyes, Will is kissing down your neck, face flush and a bead of sweat is rolling down his forehead.

‘You okay my love?’ his words are tender, a contradictory from the orgasm that just crashed down on you. You mumble a reply, smiling to him as a gentle wave of joy rushes over you. ‘You okay to keep going?’ he asks, you mumble another yes as you connect your lips with his.

The kiss is sweet and as tender as his concern, but when you slip your hand down to wrap around his pulsing cock he bites down onto your bottom lip with a groan. You feel your release slick around his cock, collecting it on the pads of your fingertips with a mix of his own juices, breaking the kiss to slip your fingers into your mouth while still holding eye contact with Will.

His eyes are wide, lips swollen and parted in shock at your dirty action. You suck your fingers clean of both of your juices before connecting your lips again, Will’s tongue pressing against your own to get a taste of your sweetness. Your hand returns to stroke his cock painfully slow, flicking your thumb over the tip that furiously leaks his juices.

‘You sure you can handle it again, babe?’ his tone is slightly smug but filled with so much sincerity, not wanting to push you past your limits. ‘Wanna feel you in me again, Will. I miss it.’ your words merge into the kiss and you feel his fingers trace gently over your swollen clit. You part from his lips to release a soft, airy moan when he circles the bud in tightly and his forehead meets yours.

‘You sound so beautiful, y/n. So fucking beautiful.’ your eyes flutter shut when his fingers push harder, the same airy moans slipping past your lips softly and his compliment sends your cheeks pink. He kisses along your exposed jawline, sucking gently on the skin.

‘Is it all for me, baby?’ his words vibrate against your throat, his fingers exploring down through your folds to collect your wetness and swipe it over your pulsing clit again. You feel another orgasm approaching, the floodgates already open from your last orgasm, and you struggle to form a reply from the pressure that’s building.

‘Fu- yes, Will- it's- ah- it's all for you.’ you force the words out between moans, your eyes fluttering open to meet his that swallow you completely in admiration. He kisses down your chest and sucks your nipple into his mouth, your hand finds its way into his hair as to ground yourself in the feeling that’s threatening to push you over the edge again.

He hums against your nipple causing you to gasp, his teeth grazing the bud deliciously as you finally muster up the strength to talk.

‘I’m gonna cum, fuck I'm gonna cum.’ your words are rushed as you grip his hair, pulling his mouth harder against your nipple as your orgasm washes over you, your head rocking back into the pillow beneath you. Your back arches up, pushing your nipple against his teeth daringly and he bites down causing another shudder to travel down your legs.

This orgasm isn’t as intense as your last but it’s just as beautiful, hitting you in multiple waves, each earning a louder gasp and a toothy smile to appear on your face. Your eyes are rolled into the back of your head, your legs tremoring on either side of his hips as you begin to come down with a heavy gasp and a whimper that pulls Will’s lips away from you with a smile.

It dawns on you that he hasn’t came yet and you begin to feel guilty, not being able to hide the worry from your face.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asks concerned and you ease his worry with a smile and shake of your head, still catching your breath as your play with his curls that hang messily from his head. ‘You haven’t came yet, babe.’ you try to hide your guilt but he catches on immediately.

‘I’m waiting, baby, wanna give you as much as possible before I come. Don’t worry about it my love.’ you may have over thought it any other day, but his genuine smile and tone makes you nod and let go of that stress.

His lips are on yours again before they trail across your jaw, under your ear to suck the sensitive skin between his lips. His tongue laps over the skin, his teeth grazing so gently it sends a shudder up your spine. He moves across to find your pulse point, humming against the skin to send a wave of vibration through your body. He mimics the same sucking as before, only this time his teeth dig into your skin to send your head rocking back into the couch.

All your senses are heightened. Suddenly you can smell traces of weed in the air from earlier, coconut in his locks and his musky cologne along his collar bones. Goosebumps cover your arms, your nipples peaking and poking into his warm chest. The TV glows, a low lamp keeping the rest of the room lit. A mix of your and his juices tingle on your tongue, your thighs clench at the taste; a reminder of the orgasms that leave your body flushed and aching perfectly.

You don't realise one of his hands had moved until you feel a finger slip into your cunt, a pool of warmth coating his finger and palm slick. Your breaths flow mindlessly through your soft, plump lips when he curves his finger into your g spot, your chest becomes tight from the repetitive action.

His finger leaves you, his mouth disconnects from your neck and he positions himself between your legs. He holds his soaked palm up between you both, grinning proudly to himself.

‘Making such a beautiful mess, angel.’ his raspy tone alone makes you desperate, burning with anticipation when you feel is swollen tip poking at your entrance teasingly, and when he slips his finger into his mouth, your juices pushing up to his knuckles in a ring before collecting on his lips you genuinely think you’re going to hyperventilate from the sight alone.

He finger slips from his mouth and before you can react his lips are pushed against yours, lathering them in your own juices. He pulls back, your tongue pokes out to collect the mess from your lips but his hand quickly catches you before you can, his fingers on either side of your face pushing your lips open and out in a pouting motion. His tongue licks your lips clean of your juices, not letting one drop go to waste.

Your chest is so tight it aches your ribs, you don’t think you’ll ever let your breath go until you feel his tip slowly slip into you. Will groans and even though you’re dripping wet, it still stings slightly from the stretch; but you wouldn’t have it any other way, the feeling of just the tip of him alone makes you suck another long breath in.

His hips continue forward, his cock slipping halfway in all at once making Will let out another deep groan and you wince. Not only is his size already a stretch, but you’re also still sore from being filled by him and fucked into the couch.

‘I know it’s so much angel,’ his hand rests on your throat without applying any pressure yet, your eyes flutter open to meet his. You must force your eyes to stay open, you’d be stupid not to watch how his face contorts as his tip finally rests against the deepest part of you. His girth stretches and fills you up sublimely, you moan deeply at the feeling that you can never get enough of.

Before moving his hips, he hooks an arm under your leg closest to the back of the couch and directs it to hang over the top of the couch. This sends your hips upwards, giving him perfect access to fill your guts.

‘Keep your leg up here for me, okay?’ you nod at his request, still so zoned in on how he fills you up. His body is inches away from yours again, his cock slipping against your sweet spot just from his readjusting.

He plants a small kiss on your forehead before pulling his hips away slowly, your chest rises with his stroke when he guides himself back into you. Both of you moan out together, your hand latching onto the back of his neck. Curses slip from both of you as he creates a slow, deep pace; drawing his hips back almost completely before pushing back into you at an agonising speed. When he fucks you like this, slow and deep, you can feel the veins on his cock as he pulls out, the slit on his tip grazing your upper wall as he pushes back into you. Both of you are already a panting mess, his hand beginning to add the slightest bit of pressure on your neck that makes your mind soft and cloudy.

‘Fuck, you’re taking me so well, y/n.’ his words nearly get caught in his chest when you squeeze around him, his tip edging against your cervix gorgeously. ‘Shit baby, you wrap around my cock perfectly. It's like your pussy was made for me.’ Your cheeks flush at his words, also because he adds more restriction to your throat, the tips of his fingers digging into the skin softly.

His thrusts start to become harder, dragging along your tight walls in languid strokes that send your head tilting back into the pillow beneath you and your other leg to hike up at the side of his hip.

He leans up onto his knees, pushing your leg that is folded up against your side out and gripping your knee that rests on the top of the couch, watching his cock as it stretches your cunt that squeezes its thickness every time he hits your sweet spot.

‘Jesus- fuck-’ he can’t form a coherent sentence, his eyes still shamelessly gawking at the sight of him fucking you as he mumbles something to himself that you can’t make out. His hand leaves your knee and begins to stroke over your folds, staring intently as his fingers slip across your swollen clit and his fingertips graze over your folds intently. Your breathing is becoming heavy, feeling another orgasm approaching you at a rapid rate.

Will notices this and pushes against your clit, only flicking his eyes up from between your legs for a moment to glance at your face as a you whimper; the pleasure nearly becoming too much.

He knows that if you don’t cum soon, you’ll become a whimpering, crying mess and that thought makes his cock twitch in you. His finger strums your clit slowly before switching up completely, flicking over the pulsing bud with his thumb frantically making you shout his name in shock. Your orgasm begins to shake your legs and just like that his thumb is gone and you cry out, sounding pained and awfully hot; Will lets out an animalistic moan as he leans down and uses his arms to cage you in and keep you in place.

If he didn’t do that you’d be thrashing around, which your body still tries to do when he begins to fuck your harder, picking his pace up ever so slightly but it’s enough to make you cry out again.

‘Take it, angel,’ his words drill into your ears, his hips rocking into you harder with every word ‘take it like the good girl you are.’ Your moans become high pitched and strained, having no control of the curses and chants of his name that leave your chapped lips. You gave up trying to keep your eyes open, letting them pinch shut as the pleasure sends your mind spinning.

‘Eyes open.’ he demands, to which you quickly comply and open them as much as you can. You take in the sight of him; his dishevelled hair that brushes against your forehead with his thrusts, his agape mouth, those fucking lips that can make you crumble in moments. You can’t stop yourself when your eyes find his defined jawline, leaning up to peck it before grazing your teeth across it, earning you a low groan from Will. His dark, deep eyes bore into you and you squeeze tightly on his cock again, this time mainly so you can see how his eyes roll into the back of his head.

When his eyes open again, your hand finds its way onto his back, your nails digging into his skin and dragging across his flesh. Just as you do this, you squeeze on his cock again, wanting to push him to the edge; hoping you’ll get a raise out of him. His eyes roll to the back of his head again, he groans deeply- sounding slightly pissed off.

‘I know what you’re doing, y/n.’ his tone is sharp, making your heart jump for a moment and your pussy drip along his cock. His eyes pierce into yours, you bite your lip nervously. ‘If you want me to fuck you, you should’ve just asked instead of being a slut about it.’ His words make you smirk through excitement, he chuckles to himself and shakes his head while speaking.

‘You really are a dirty slut, aren’t you?’ his words send another wave of pleasure through you and before you can stop it you let out an ear-splitting pornographic moan, maybe you should be ashamed of how this turns you on- but you couldn’t care less about shame when his cock hits you in the place that makes you giddy with satisfaction.

‘Eyes open, y/n’ his words are sharp, scolding you with a light spank to your clit making your eyes shoot open and the same shameless moan erupts from you- this time somehow louder. Your legs begin to tremor slightly, this warning both of you that you’re going to cum soon.

‘You just want to be treated like the dirty girl you are, don’t you?’ his words make your stomach twist, his hips now beginning to pick up their speed- giving you exactly what you need to take you over the edge again. ‘Say it.’ his demand makes your eyebrows twist in shock, feeling your cheeks flush in embarrassment.

‘Come on baby, if you can say it, I’ll give you exactly what you want- what you need.’ he teases you, knowing that you’ll do anything to cum all over his cock will he fills you up and fucks your juices together.

‘I- fuck, Will!’ you begin but cut yourself off when his speed picks up rapidly, still drilling into you at a torturously hard rate. ‘I just-’ your words are cut off again, this time by a whimper you can’t stop. Your tits bounce against Will’s chest every time he fills you up to the brim, it’s becoming a ridiculously hard task to keep your eyes open too. His moans make you clench on him over and over again, desperate for him to take you past the edge.

‘If you wanna cum I’m gonna need to hear the words come from your mouth, angel, so get to talking.’ he torments, his hips drilling into you. Just when you think he couldn’t get any obscener, he leans back to spit onto your tits, his hips never stopping their beautiful torture; he’s doing this not only because it drives him crazy, but because it’s always the last straw before your pussy explodes around his cock.

You know if you don’t get the words out ASAP he’ll deny you of your orgasm again and you wouldn’t be able to take it, so you hurry and manage to force the words out.

‘I just wanna be treated like the dirty slut I am! Will- please- I can’t-’ a tear rolls down your face, the pleasure overwhelming you. His fingers find your clit in slow, smooth strokes in contrast to his cock and finally he lets you crash over the edge.

‘There we go angel, let it all out. Cum all over my cock, doll.’ is the last thing you hear, his pleased grin being the last thing you see before ringing fills your ears, your eyes pierce shut and your head digs into the pillow below you. Your legs shake rapidly, your pussy convulsing on Will’s cock as you squirt on him, not hearing the obscene strangled moans that never stop leaving you or the noises of your juices that fill the room as he fucks you through the whole thing.

Will can’t hold back anymore and with a deep, guttural moan he slams his hips into you, his forehead resting against your own as his orgasm crashes through him in reckless, violent waves- just as yours did to you. Your pussy pulses on his cock, milking every drop of cum from him as you’re still encapsulated by your orgasm, practically screaming through the whole thing.

You both come down, thrown from the heights of your orgasms back to reality. Your breathing is rapid, trying to catch up with the lost breaths due to how much you were moaning, you’re unable to force your eyes open just yet. Will is in the same state as you, wrapped up in the blissful after math of such an intense orgasm.

You stay with his cock in you for a minute or two, coming back to your mind and opening your eyes tiredly. Will lifts his head from your neck to meet your loving gaze, both of you staring in complete awe and love for each other.

Slowly you both begin to untangle your limbs, him pulling out from you gently. Still lying on your back, so fucked out you don’t think you’ll be able to move for another hour, he kneels between your legs and watches as his cum drips out of your puffy pussy. He collects the fallen juices and gently, as to not hurt your sore entrance, fingers it back into your pussy; not letting a drop escape you.

Finally, you catch your breath, pulling Will down into a soft, slow kiss.

After a while of cuddling on the couch, talking about the events that just took place, Will convinces you to make your way upstairs so you can share a bath. When he helps you up to your feet, you gasp at the puddle of your juices that has sunk into the couch, Will widening his eyes with a devilish glint and proud grin.

‘Look at all the mess we made.’

————————————-

Thanks for reading💋💋💋

[mollymauk-teafleak]

to get to this evening with you

Watch a kinda cheesy show, write some kinda cheesy fic! Endless thanks to my lovely @hangsters for the motivation and support.

Please reblog and comment over on Ao3!

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It's the night before his wedding and Evan Buckley needs to things. First, a pep talk from his sister.

And second, to see his future husband.

-------

The position of Buck’s Best Man (he couldn’t think of a good title that didn’t exclude half of the options) was a hotly contested spot. 

Everything else about the wedding planning had gone so smoothly, a couple of quieter shifts, a few late nights spent scrolling through Pinterest, a few nods of agreement from an increasingly bewildered Eddie and every single detail was nailed down inside of a month. The perfect wedding, everything Buck had been dreaming about since he was a kid, as well as a few things he didn’t think he’d ever get to have, all neatly mapped out in a binder that was somehow bigger than Bobby’s binder of earthquake protocols. 

The only missing piece, the only headache, was this. Who out of their 118 family was going to be his best man.

But when he opened the door of his hotel room on the night before the wedding to see his sister Maddie standing there in her pajamas, a four pack of shitty beer dangling from one finger and a knowing smile on her face, he knew he’d made the right decision. 

“Oh thank god,” Buck groaned, sagging against the doorframe in relief. 

Maddie flashed him that smile, the ‘everything’s going to be okay’ smile he’d been anchoring himself to since he was a kid, “I figured you might say that. I also figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep so I thought I’d come to your rescue.”

“You always do,” Buck steps aside to let her in, catching the two cans she throws him with practiced ease, “It’s two in the morning, how did you know I’d be awake?”

Maddie scoffed like he was a bit of an idiot for needing to ask but she loved that he had anyway, “Only every Christmas Eve, the night before every one of your birthdays, every first night of summer break for our entire childhoods? You snuck into my room for every single one because you couldn’t sleep.”

“It’s hard to sleep when you’re excited,” Buck admits, watching his sister flop down on the hotel room’s expansive bed, kicking off her slippers, arms splayed like a starfish. 

It felt good to watch her take up space. He hadn't realized until she came to LA, just how much his sister had been shrinking herself down over the years.

“Excited?” Maddie hummed knowingly, cracking open her beer with a rhythmic hiss and pop, “Or nervous?”

Buck groaned a little, lying beside her. He was suddenly transported back to all those nights Maddie mentioned, feeling so young and so small, not enough space in his body for all the buzzing emotions he was feeling. He’d always hoped that would fade as he grew, that his brain would become more manageable as the cage he kept it in got bigger. 

But of course the worry had just grown along with everything else.

“Is both an option?” he asked hopefully, taking a swallow of the beer and wincing in a way that only had a little to do with the taste. 

“Of course it is!” Maddie nudged him with her knee, “You’re getting married tomorrow, it’s a big deal.”

Buck fidgeted with the tab on his beer, pressing it down and letting it spring back, “But…are people supposed to be nervous the night before they marry the love of their life? Shouldn’t I just be happy? I mean, I am, I can’t wait for tomorrow but I’m also sort of…terrified.”

Maddie rolled onto her side, regarding him, “Buck. Have you ever been just happy? Completely, one hundred percent happy, without any guilt to go along with it?”

“Alright, point taken,” Buck grunted, chasing it down with another mouthful of beer, “Guess we’re not built that way, huh?”

“We most certainly are not,” there was a bitter humor in her voice, the kind you only got the rights to if you had a shitty childhood, “You don’t need to worry about being nervous. I’m sure Eddie’s feeling exactly the same.”

“What, you think Christopher is sitting in Eddie’s room right now, taking up all the space on his bed, drinking terrible beer?”

Maddie laughed along with him, “I mean, ideally without the beer but this is the kind of crap only teenagers can stomach…but yeah, Chris has probably talked Eddie down a couple of times. You know what they’re like.”

Buck smiled at that because, yeah, he did. They were nearly a year out from Chris coming back home to Los Angeles, sometimes it felt like a decade, sometimes it felt like five seconds. It was going to be a long, slow process, figuring out what their family was going to look like now. It was never going to be what it was but some moments, like the look on Christopher’s face when Eddie had asked him to be his best man, told Buck it was going to be something good. 

Maybe it was that thought that gave Buck the courage to unscrew the cap a little, let the words start to pour out, “I just…I know how much trust Eddie’s putting in me with this. He already went through a marriage and had it fall apart and lost his best friend. He’s had his family try and take Christopher away from him and he worked so hard to get him back. He was so…closed off when I met him and I get why, he was trying to protect himself after everything that happened.”

Maddie perched her head on one hand, voice gentle, “But he opened up for you, Buck.”

“And I just want to be…worth that,” Buck tried to find the right words, pulling his knees to his chest and leaning back against the headboard, “I just want to make him this life where he never has to worry about Christopher, he never has to be alone or afraid and he never has to feel bad about who he is. And…and what if I can’t?”

“Buck, you can’t,” Maddie sighed sadly, “No one could.” 

“I know that,” Buck grimaced a little, feeling like a child having to be told Santa wasn’t real, “I mean, God, I don’t have to tell you I didn’t have the best role models for a healthy marriage growing up.”

Maddie tipped her can to him in a dry salute, “Hey, I gave you an excellent example of what not to do? And neither you nor Eddie are abusive assholes so clearly the message got through.”

“And I’m not going to be our parents either,” Buck voice tightened with determination, “But every relationship I’ve had before Eddie has just fallen apart and…and, even if I manage not to screw things up, hurt him when I don’t mean to, there’s all the stuff I can’t control? I mean, for God’s sake, I could go to work the first day back after our honeymoon, put one foot wrong and make Eddie a widower twice over?”

Maddie stayed quiet for a moment, like she had to remember how to shoulder that reality before she could speak, “Eddie knows that Buck. Same as Athena knows it when she sends Bobby out the door, same as I know when I sent Chimney. But whenever I feel those thoughts getting loud, I tell myself that I could crash my car on the way to work, an anvil could fall off some scaffolding and land on my head, I could fall down a loose manhole into the sewer-”

“No you couldn’t, they’re made of cast iron so the weight is distributed evenly and there’s no pivot point,” Buck grumbled, “But you’ve made your point, Mads, I don’t need a longer list of things to worry about...”

“Exactly,” Maddie couldn’t help a smile, shifting onto her knees so she could lean in and tap him on the forehead, like she was drilling the words through his skull, “And my point is that loving someone is always a risk. But it’s a risk we decide is worth taking for our person.”

Buck looked at her, eyes soft and pleading, “I planned the perfect wedding for us. I just wish I could plan the perfect life too, be the perfect husband he deserves.”

Maddie’s hand fell to squeeze her brother’s, in that way that had always meant listen up, “Buck, Eddie doesn’t want a perfect version of you. He just wants you.”

Buck found himself blinking hard, folding until his forehead touched her shoulder, his answer to that squeeze of the hand since he hadn’t needed to bend at all, “Thanks, Maddie…”

“Hey. This is why you made me your best man, right?” she grinned.

“Of course. I definitely didn’t just panic and pick someone at random…”

Maddie cackled, shoving Buck off the bed, “Oh my god, shut up, go see Eddie.”

Buck managed to catch his feet without spilling a drop of his beer on the hotel carpet that was soft enough to cost more than he made in a month. He finished the rest of the can in two swallows, just to be on the safe side. 

“I think that might be against the wedding rules?” he pointed out, even as he cast about for his shoes, “Me and Eddie aren’t supposed to see each other until tomorrow.” 

Maddie gave a derisive snort, “Oh yeah and you two have always followed the rules, haven’t you? Come on. You need him right now, you go and see him.” 

Buck’s smile broke into a laugh because, of course, she was right. He did need to see Eddie.

“Your sneakers are over by the couch,” Maddie pointed out before he could even ask, snuggling back down into his bed.

Buck shoved his feet into them, raising an eyebrow at her, “You sleeping in here?”

“You’re not coming back. And I don’t want to wake Chim as early as I’m gonna have to get up to drag you back here and get you looking presentable,” 

“And you get to watch more episodes of your dumb mystery show without him?” Buck smirked as she picked up the TV remote.

“He talks during them!” Maddie waved a dismissive hand at him, “Shut up, go!”

Buck went, only pausing once at the doorway. He’d learned to never leave any of his family without saying one thing first. 

“Love you, Maddie.”

She smiled back at him, the kind of smile that grew until it spilled over into a grin. People had always told the Buckley siblings they only really looked like each other when they smiled, at least when they were kids. In the years since Maddie left home, when she’d stopped smiling like that, it had hurt Buck to know they’d lost that similarity, that someone looking at them side by side might never think they were siblings. 

But looking at Maddie now, it was like looking in a mirror. Two kids who hadn’t been built to be happy but they were learning. 

“Love you too, Buck,” his sister grinned.

The ranch house turned hotel Buck had finally decided on for their wedding venue was perfect. It was all oak panels and iron accents and willow trees holding court along a brook, exactly what he’d wanted, the kind of old fashioned, rugged beauty he’d fallen in love with watching Westerns and reading adventure books as a kid.

However, that also meant every single floorboard Buck stood on sounded like a firecracker. Not ideal for trying to sneak down a hallway past rooms that contained his nearest and dearest, people he didn’t really want to know he was up to right now, even if the wedding rules were stupid. There was a lot of wincing and freezing in place, trying to navigate a minefield of loud noise before nearly jumping out of his skin when a door opened just ahead on his left. 

Eddie stuck his head around the door, voice a fondly exasperated whisper, hand already outstretched to pull Buck into the room, “There you are! Took you long enough.”

Buck just about managed to hold in his delighted laughter until the door was closed behind them. 

The urge to pull him close and kiss him was almost too strong to ignore but made himself pause, he made himself just look at Eddie. He clearly hadn’t been sleeping either, his dark hair was sticking up in tufts, his eyes were blurry, the old t-shirt and shorts he wore were creased from tossing and turning. He was just about the most beautiful thing Buck had ever seen. 

“I needed to see you,” he murmured, he’d known it was true but saying the words turned it into something concrete, like the sky being blue or gravity pulling things towards the center of the Earth. 

Eddie tilted his head gently, leaning so his weight pressed Buck against the door, that warm solid weight that held Buck together when he needed it, “I know. Because I needed to see you too.”

That turned holding off on kissing him from difficult to impossible. Buck was smiling as their lips met, as Eddie’s hand wound into his curls and anchored there, as his hips pushed up and Eddie’s pushed down. One kiss turned into two, into three, the ground underneath Buck feeling more steady with each one. 

“You wanna talk?” Eddie breathed out along with a sigh, head resting on Buck’s shoulder for a heartbeat while they caught their breath. 

“No,” Buck answered honestly, “I want this.”

Eddie nodded, accepting that easily, pulling him towards the bed, “Then it’s yours.”

They tumbled together, the world continuing to spin even after they sank into the blankets, as Eddie kissed Buck down into the mattress again and again. Each brush of his teeth against Buck’s lip, each time his tongue slid against his own, each gasp he drew from Buck's throat, unwound him more and more. So many times he’d wished for a way to turn off his racing mind and Eddie Diaz had been holding the switch all along, able to just touch him and narrow the whole world down to only them.

“Feel like I’m making you break the rules…” Buck gave a ragged, breathless laugh as Eddie pulled his shirt over his head and threw it aside.

Eddie’s smirk was playful, hungry, “Buck, we’re already breaking every rule I was ever taught about marriage. One of the reasons it’s so much fun.”

Buck felt a shiver run down the length of him at that, breath hitching, “What are the other reasons?”

Eddie slid Buck’s shorts down his legs, sending them overboard to follow his shirt. His pupils blew wide as he opened Buck’s thighs, tongue caught between his teeth, an expression of pure awe like he was struggling to believe he was really here, spread wide for him.

“You,” Eddie said simply, his voice shaking just a little, “The rest is all you, Buck.”

He knelt between his legs, tongue quick and eager. When it touched the heat between Buck’s thighs, he hissed, the sound a fire makes when it’s finally doused with water, a kind of desperate relief. 

“Oh baby…” he moaned, legs sliding across Eddie’s broad back, one arm thrown over his mouth, the other gripping the headboard tight.

Eddie only pressed deeper, firmer, knowing that Buck liked to be flooded, overwhelmed. He didn’t pause for a moment, nosing at his aching cock while his tongue lapped, while his teeth grazed his lips. His hands gripped Buck’s thighs, thumbs stroking over the soft hairs there, the muscles of his back flexing rhythmically against his legs as his whole body worked to eat Buck out. 

Buck was helpless, caught in the tide of it all, left to muffle his cries as best he could against his own arm and hold on for dear life. He groaned, he gave strangled gasps, he whimpered Eddie’s name so many times he half expected it to be tattooed on his skin where his lips had been. He writhed, just to give them both the pleasure of Eddie pinning him, having to leverage his whole weight to keep Buck trembling there, sucking and mouthing at him until he was completely undone. 

Buck came without warning, even to himself, the tension just broke and he was falling. There was that throbbing, pulsing moment of all consuming release before he broke through and could breathe again. 

“Fuck…” he moaned, voice a faint tremor, expecting to see smoke rising from his skin as he reached down for Eddie, who was stripping off himself, “That was…”

“Just the start,” Eddie finished, moving up to hold him, arms locking securely around his waist, as safe as any harness has ever held him on the job, “Just warming you up, baby.”

Buck groaned in relief, clinging to him, pressing his heels into the small of his back to urge him on, “Thank fuck…”

Eddie was so hard his cock seemed to burn against Buck’s inner thigh, his pulse thudding just under his skin. 

“Were you thinking about me? Before I came to see you?” Buck purred, shifting until he felt the tip of Eddie’s dick resting against his entrance, “You’re pretty damn worked up.”

Any part of Eddie’s face that wasn’t already flushed turned pink, the smile that he pressed against Buck’s bare shoulder was playfully crooked, “What else am I supposed to be doing the night before marrying the man of my dreams?”

Buck shivered happily, hips twitching in impatience, “Fucking him.”

Eddie gave a growl of laughter and pressed in all the way, until there wasn’t a spare inch of space between their bodies, until he’d drawn a high, thin whine from Buck, “Better get on that then��”

They moved easily, rhythmically, two people who had been practicing the same dance over and over but still found joy and freedom and flight in every step. Buck had grown up always feeling like he wasn’t enough, like there were parts of him missing but, in Eddie’s arms, with Eddie’s heartbeat hammering against his own, he realized what it was to feel completely whole. More than enough. 

“Eddie…” he gasped, face tense as their bodies rolled, “Fuck, that’s it…”

Eddie panted heavily, snatching kisses in between low moans and ragged breaths, “All yours. All of it.”

He turned suddenly, pulling Buck over him so now he knelt on the bed, riding Eddie. Buck gave a strangled cry as Eddie’s cock was driven that much deeper inside him, bouncing hard without so much as missing a beat. The place where their bodies joined became the anchor of the whole universe, the only sounds in the world were the sounds of their hips slapping together, their desperate breath misting the air, the only heat came from Eddie’s hands as they splayed against his ass and the small of his back. The dance was becoming heedless, stumbling, something wilder and every bit as beautiful. 

Buck could hear his own pulse in his ears, bending back into those hands, spine arched like he was held in a physical grip, in the claws of something so much bigger than him. Already reeling from his last orgasm, his nerves were sparking, splitting, about to ignite. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold on for much longer, all he could do was hope Eddie was ready to burn with him.

“Eddie…” he panted, his voice rattling with their frantic motions. 

They’d never needed more than a word to know what the other meant, “I’m here, I’m with you baby. Together.”

Buck had always thought sex was something that made you feel small, less than you were before you started. He’d been so desperate to be wanted, to be held and desired just for the person that he was, but the meaningless hookups he’d chased would never fill that need. He told himself he wanted touch, he wanted that ten seconds of pleasure, because finding it was easy. He’d slapped a band aid over a torn artery and told himself he was fine, ignoring the hollow, aching feeling when he’d be left alone in an empty bed, everything drained out of him. 

But when Eddie said together, it was a promise. 

When Eddie’s hips snapped upwards, so hard that Buck was lifted clear off the bed by a good few inches, when he flooded him with heat that seemed to reach right up to his chest, he knew they were together. More one body than two, more whole than they ever could be apart. Buck came, hard, harder than he ever had with anyone else but, more than that, when he slumped down like a puppet with its strings cut, Eddie was there to catch him. And Buck never doubted for a moment that he would be. 

“That…that was definitely against the rules…” Eddie panted, voice raw and ragged at the edges, fraying until the laughter came through.

Buck moaned, pressing a kiss to the place where he felt Eddie’s heart throwing itself against his ribcage, like he was soothing it, “Good.”

“Do you want to talk now?” Eddie murmured, turning when Buck finally had the strength to uncouple them, cuddling close into his side to make up for the distance. 

Buck thought for a moment before shaking his head, smiling, “Nah…think I got everything I needed there.”

“Last minute nerves?” Eddie guessed, voice light as his touch, stroking a curl back from Buck’s sweaty forehead. 

“Yeah…” his smile turned coy, catching his hand and pressing a kiss to his palm, “I haven’t got cold feet, don’t worry. I just needed to remember why we’re doing this. Why it’s worth it.”

Eddie clasped his hand tight like it held something precious, shaking his head. Buck didn’t need to explain himself with him, he never had. 

“I know, baby,” he let their foreheads naturally rest against each other, their bodies fitting together perfectly like two puzzle pieces, so they’d be the last things they saw before drifting to sleep and the first things they’d see when they woke up, “And you’re feeling okay now?”

Buck just let himself be held, grinning, “Yeah. Because I love you.”

“I love you too…” Eddie said the words so softly but they were the ones that held the universe together for Buck.

The nervousness, the anxiety, it was still there, somewhere in the back of his mind. It always would be, just like Maddie had said. But as Buck felt himself finally relax enough for sleep to find him, he knew that he and Eddie would face that uncertainty the exact same way they’d start their first day of married life. 

Together. 

[chaysreality222]

How To Get Your Shifting Motivation Back!

hey guys, it's c! it's been awhile since i posted. i've been so busy with my personal life that i've lost some of my motivation to shift. which is why i wanted to make a post about it, to tell you that it is completely normal. if you're feeling like how i do, let's gain back our motivation again together.

Something I want everyone to acknowledge is that it's okay to lose motivation about shifting. You're not going to be and feel motivated all the time and THAT'S NORMAL. It isn't because you're not interested in it anymore, you just really haven't made or had the time. If you're anything like me, you've just been genuinely busy and that's okay too.

Why I want you to acknowledge that is because (I'm not sure if this is a universal feeling but) you start to feel a sense of guilt. "If I made time to shift the past couple of nights, I would have finally made it to my dr", "I should've already finished my new dr script so I can shift", "everyone else has shifted except me because I'm not focused enough", "I'm taking so long to shift because I haven't made any time to". I'm sure all these thoughts and more have passed through our mind when we found ourselves in a unmotivated slump. The guilt + the lack of motivation just causes you to be more unmotivated.

I don't want you to feel guilty anymore, because you shouldn't be. Yes, you could've already shifted BUT you can also shift now. There's nothing that can stop you from doing that.

After coming down from the unmotivated spiral, you can finally move on. Now, here's the fun part to getting your motivation back! Here are some tips I think are helpful.

Tips to gain back shifting motivation:

Make a playlist. Gather all the songs that remind you of shifting, how it feels to finally shift to your desired reality, or how it will feel to finally meet the people in your dr.

Create a mood board. Find photos of people, places, and things that relate to your dr. This is a great way to help visualize. You can also add things that you want with you in your dr. (I personally use Pinterest).

Read. Find and read a book that is based on your desired reality. Get connected with your dr again. You can even read some of other people's shifting stories.

Watch a video, movie, or tv-show. Again, find something that is related to your desired reality. It's a great way to help you visualize your dr and everyone in it. You can also watch videos about other people's dr's or what they put in their script to gain more ideas.

Watch your favorite reality shifting content creators. Mine are generally Ati, Kort, Liz, Alexa, and Kay on tiktok. Watching their videos are inspiring and always motivate me to shift. They also have the greatest advice and stories as well!

Keep a healthy mindset about shifting. (This should've been the first tip). Anyways, your mindset is key. No beating yourself up about not shifting. No comparing your shifting experience to others. Definitely no telling yourself that you can't shift either!

That's genuinely what has helped me overcome many of my 'unmotivated to shift' phases. I'm really hoping that this helped some of you out- I know it helped me. Thanks for being here. As always, Happy Shifting!

xoxo, c.

[st4rshipr4nger]

things that help me//helped me minishift!! first im going to go over things before the methods and then yk yeah

i know alot of people dont like scripting, or just prefer not to do it but i enjoy doing it and it gets me pretty motivated because I know where im going more so than before when i just yk knew where i was going, i use notion scripts personally

but thats pretty well known so anyway what i was saying in response to that anon that my lovely mutual sent me was that i get my journal and i would write down affirmations for example 'i am happy in my dr, i am loved in my dr, i love my dr, i am shifting constantly, i shift everytime i breathe, i shift everytime i blink, i shift everytime i move, etc etc' and i would just write those down over and over repeating. I did that for like three days I wanna say and i minishifted to my umbrella dr and heard pojo knocking on my door, and even though that isnt how my umbrella dr is now because ive switched it up alot since then i might make a seperate post for that I STILL HEARD POGO. AND I SHIFTED EVEN THOUGH I PHYSICALLY JUMPED UP AND SHIFTED BACK. and i felt my couch turn more into a bed and the air smelled different and everything. So yes!! write down affirmations if you think it will help and even just to try it out.

make a pinterest board, a music playlist, consume the media that will make you feel closer and more at home with it !!

now for methods and how i do them//pair them up with eachother

void state method x affirmations x julia ??? method sort of

so i put a subliminal on throughout the day sometimes if i feel like it i just find one of youtube and i journal,,, then when i actually want to sit and try to shift i lay down, i personally lay down on my back because laying on my side trying to shift is UNCOMFORTABLE to me,,, then i do the void state part which is just detaching yourself kind of in my head i repeat 'i am pure consciousness' and 'i am not attatched to any reality and i can shift whenever where ever i please' mhmmhm and then once i do that for a while and i feel like i can move on, my body is asleep and i cant really like ...feel anything thats when i move on and start saying the affirmations that i had written down in my journal! and thats just what i do you can count when doing the void state method i know that can help stay like focused if youre into that.

remember its okay to let your mind wander, when youre told to stop thinking of something youre just gonna end up thinking of it more, so think about things and then let them go when you get distracted!

i hope this helped i tried to word it as best i could if you have any more questions just ask

MUCH LOVE!!!!

@v1trum

[fullofgutsndopamine]

bring me to the valley (where it all began)

or: you invite co workers over for a halloween movie fest. hasan is the only one who shows up.

tw: anxiety mention, cursing, food mention

“Let’s see-anything else?”

your eyes slide over the table in front of you, full of snacks you spent most of the day preparing, half bent over the stove, stirring multiple pots and searching through pinterest so everyone would be happy

“maybe one more dip?” you hum, checking the time-still about thirty minutes before anyone’s due. “just so everyone has options.”

Your hand is on the handle of a cabinet, about to yank it open and tear through it for ingredients when a knock on the door almost makes you smack your head against the shelf.

“It’s fucking-“

you begin, untying the apron from around your waist and throwing it on the table as you make your way to the door.

throwing it open, the co worker you hoped would RSVP no stood there, a towering mess of freckles and curly hair, too big glasses pushed up on his nose.

he has the nerve to smile, stand up a little straighter when the door is open:

“Hey!” he smiles, “about time-“

“you’re over an hour early.”

his eyes narrow as he grabs his phone out to his pocket, you catch a glimpse of his dog as his background, know because he never shuts the fuck up about his dog at work in-between customers

“Oh,” he tries to play it off like he didn’t spend the entire walk up to your floor thinking about it, chewing on his nails until all that was left was bloody stumps, “Well-no sense in leaving now, right? besides, i can help you get ready.”

he all but edges his way in, his foot cutting to the door and opening it wider for him to squeeze through. before you can argue, a small plate is pressed into your hands.

“what is this?”

he shrugs, like you’re dumb for asking, like it isn’t obvious.

“brownies.”

“Hasan-“

“It’s rude to show up without something for the host. They’re good. my own secret recipe.”

you know hasan has a reputation at work for not being a good cook, for living off boxed food and cans, always the butt of a joke that he made it as long as he has

“oh yeah?” you hum, lifting a corner of the tinfoil up, “what’s the secret ingredient? box mix or-“

“What is this anyways?”

he cuts you off and before you can wonder if it’s on purpose or malicious or overthink it you walk over to him, where a mess of plastic web is, something you tried to set up at two in the morning last night when you were too anxious to sleep

“a spider web.” you hold in the duh, “but it fell on me halfway through-“

he stands back with his hands on his hip, his head titled to the side: “i got it.”

he sighs, like a middle aged father who got pulled into doing a honey do list-

“hasan,” you huff, “i didn’t fucking invite you over to fix my shitty decorations. besides, that’s the whole point. let me-“

“i got it in here.”

he says instead and before you can argue he turns to the wall and gently, carefully, like it’s delicate and will break any second.

“go on,” he says, and his voice is low and gentle, not what your use to his-voice usually loud and cracking, borders on losing his voice every shift from yelling and talking, trying to be over heard everyone, “seriously.”

slowly, you go through cabinets.

without seeing him, it’s less intimidating, taking down some flour when you speak:

“what are you suppose to be anyways?”

you can hear him huff, even from a room away, “i’m a magic eight ball. ignorant-“

“an eight on your shirt does not make you a magic eightball. also!” you huff, “what part of inviting co workers over for a halloween movie night screams costumes to you?”

suddenly he’s in high school and underdressed or over dressed, whatever it is it’s wrong, always the butt of a joke and the reason for the elbow in someone’s ribs-

“halloween spirit or whatever bullshit,” he says, “really it’s rude that you aren’t wearing one, host and all-“

“you’re right,” you’re finally laughing, “i owe you a costume-“

“and i always collect,” he says gently, the laugh loud in his voice, “don’t forget.”

the hour passes, then another.

you’re sitting on the edge of the couch, eyes pinching and on the verge of tears, hating that hasan is seeing you so pathetic when he speaks, his voice low:

“got any popcorn?”

you look at the display of snacks on the table in front of you, the clean up you’ll have and all the fucking left overs-

“popcorn?”

he doesn’t elaborate, stands, pauses long enough to give your knee a squeeze before he disappears.

you take the opportunity to wipe at your eyes, feeling dumb for crying and even dumber for feeling this way-the cabinet shuts quietly and you can hear the microwave buttons being pushed, the ding of it and the hum of the rotating plate in the microwave.

he comes back a second later, hands you a small bowl and napkin wordlessly.

“what’s our movie?”

“hasan,” you sigh, not looking at his eyes, hoping he doesn’t see how red they are, “you don’t have to stay-“

he rolls his eyes: “i’m not going anywhere. i came here for you, for a movie. i’m staying. go on, press play.”

his foot nudges yours gently, eyes in the screen, both of you quiet as you flip through it.

“hasan,” you’re finally laughing, “we don’t have to watch a horror film-“

it’s twenty minutes in and he’s already let air out from between his teeth, made two excuses to run into the kitchen and his hand has laid on your shoulder as he looks behind you, insisting dropped some popcorn and was cleaning it up.

“what are you talking about?” he rolls his eyes, digs his hand into the bowl of popcorn that sits on your lap, “i fucking love scary movies.”

“mhm,” you nod, “your hands are shaking.”

His head whips down to his hands, where he flips them over as if he’s looking for evidence: “No.” he counters instead.

“Can i see your hands real quick?”

“why?”

you roll your eyes, “just let me see your hands, idiot.”

he huffs but knows there’s no way out of it, has them hanging in the air. he almost got away with it, if it wasn’t for his pinkie that gently shakes in the air.

“i’m just nervous,” he huffs, “it’s not the fucking movie-“

“do i make you nervous?” you giggle, gently elbowing him, hoping he doesn’t call you out for how pink your face is.

“you wish,” he snorts, but leaves it at that.

“So,” he says gently, his fingertips play with the edge of your hair, both of you acting like his hands aren’t heavy weights to them, “let’s talk couple costumes-“

“so we’re a couple?”

you’re teasing, obviously, but you’re still side eyeing him, like you’re both waiting to shy into one another.

“Ha,” he laughs deadpanned, but doesn’t say anything else, “so i’m thinking nothing fucking punny-“

“you have no sense of-“

“fuck!”

the music comes to a loud crescendo, just as a shower curtain is flung back, just in time for hasan to put his hand on your shoulder, hide behind you again.

“That movie wasn’t even fucking scary.” he says as the credits roll, “i’ll pick the next one, and it won’t be so fucking dumb.”

he reaches over you for the remote, lingers a little longer than necessary before he sits up, remote in hand and a smirk on his lips:

“thanks for inviting me.”

his voice is so gentle you’d almost miss it, his eyes on the screen

“thanks for coming.”

he hesitates, before reaching, squeezes your knee one last time before clearing his throat-

“anyways,” he sighs, “this one will be better because historically-“

you tune him out, easing into the seat with a smile on your face and your heart beating fast in your ears.