#but at one point you start wondering Hey What The FUCK Is Wrong With Me Specifically

[angeltism]

seriously what the flip man why is Every Single Person I Know (not really but sh) finding love except for Me . I'm no worse than anyone else I know , I think . So like . What is it about me that is just so undesirable

[rottenaero]

They were gonna put Eddie down like a damn dog.

The group had insisted that Steve visit the hospital today, one year and two months after the incident. It was a random day, and he thought, ‘ why the hell not?’

Family Video had been closed for months, doing ‘ repairs’, so he really didn’t have much else to do.

He thought it was weird, the way the group was as far away from the bed as possible, and how when he entered the room, Hopper almost blocked the exit.

He doesn’t question it though, sidling up to the open chair beside Eddie, who was still asleep after all this time, and punching his shoulder lightly.

“ Hey, Hero.”

He’d taken to calling it sleeping instead of what it was, a coma. Sleeping sounded more peaceful, because with sleeping came dreams and relaxation.

Eddie doesn’t respond, doesn’t react. Steve didn’t expect him to.

He turns his head to Dustin, the one who’d called him in the first place. “ So, why’re we gathered here today? Any updates?” He asks, addressing the whole room.

The boy swallows, and something tells him something’s wrong. Really wrong.

“ Yeah, actually. Uhm, since it’s been so long, we were thinking-“ He cuts himself off, crosses his arms and starts tapping his foot. Thinking, probably.

Hopper glances to him, and sighs, deciding to lead. “ We’re gonna have to let Munson go.” He states.

Steve takes a sharp breath.

“ What?”

‘ Let him go’ like this is a job. Like this isn’t him losing his life. He wonders when they decided to do this, in the hospital room for the ten minutes they were waiting.

Eddie doesn’t give any indication he hears what’s being said, the beeps from the heart monitor still steady and even as ever. A constant metronome of the exact same sound on the exact say beat, all the time, always.

Except maybe not always.

Dustin takes over again, arms placating. “ It’s been a really long time, Steve. We’ve come to terms that he probably won’t wake up, and it’s doesn’t have to be sad-“

“ You’re killing him.” He hisses, “ You’re killing him and it’s not meant to be sad?”

Nancy steps forward, seeing it as her time to speak. “ Steve. You barely knew the guy, and you spend all your time here, it’s not good for you.”

“ There’s been no good signs, no nothing, not even when El looks into his brain.” Dustin nods at the girl across the room, who’s fiddling with her fingers.

Steve furrows his brow, “ Oh, so I guess you’re gonna pull the plug on Max too?”

Lucas’s eyes widen, mouth dropping open, and Nancy glares. “ That is not fair, Steve.”

“ This whole situations pretty fucking unfair, so I guess you’re gonna have to explain to me how this is different from Max.” He stands, stance wide as he points to the man in the hospital bed.

“ Max is making progress.” Lucas says weakly, and El sets a hand on his shoulder. The boy deflates.

He turns toward Hopper and Joyce, the latter still not having spoken. The Byers family had moved back to Indiana for God knows what reason, and Steve knows that if he had the money, that he could’ve moved somewhere else long ago.

“ Does Wayne know you’re killing his kid?” He asks.

He’d met the man while visiting, and they’d usually sit in silence and watch baseball or whatever was on. He never questioned why Steve was there, or why he was holding a limp body’s hand and taking off it’s rings and putting them back on.

When they did speak, it was stories he had from Eddie’s childhood, about how he buzzed his head because a spider crawled on him and he was convinced it was hidden in his hair, making babies.

Hopper pinched his nose, like he was being a pest. “ Stop using words like killing, and yes. He said he didn’t want Eddie to have to suffer, and his bills are getting expensive.”

And he blinks, realization dawning.

This hadn’t just been decided, had it? This wasn’t a ten minute decision while Steve was getting ready to come here.

He speaks, his voice low and keeping even through each word, “ You guys had a meeting.” The ‘ without me’ goes unsaid, but still echoes throughout the room like if would’ve if he shouted it.

They’d decided this whole thing beforehand, somehow knowing that Steve would hang on. And he would, will. He can’t let him die, he can’t lose.

Will nods, and next to him Mike and Dustin look ashamed. He would’ve thought they’d hold out more.

He racks his brain for any reason they should keep alive, can’t find one. Somehow, even without one for them, he has a million for himself.

“ If the bills are the reason, I’ll pay the damn bills. He’s fucking alive.” He tries.

“ You don’t have a job, Family Video is closed. Just let it be, Steve. Please.” Robin had been eerily quiet during this entire conversation, and it brings him chills him when she speaks.

His best friend had been in on it.

He crosses his arms, “ I’ll get a job. Listen, I’ve been having dreams,-“ He lies. He lies because there’s nothing true to prove Eddie is getting better. “-dreams that he’s alive in like a dark space, I don’t know- his mind maybe? I just- I really think he’s in there.”

The hope Dustin gets on his face hurts, but he doesn’t care. The guy will wake up and it won’t matter that the ‘ dreams’ never existed.

Maybe it’s because he’s an optimist, and that’s why he’s trying so hard, as pessimistic as he can be sometimes.

“ Why didn’t you tell us?” Dustin asks and Steve licks his lips.

Why didn’t he tell them? “ Despite all this crazy shit, me having dreams that he’s alive still sounds crazy.” He doesn’t look at the boy as he says this, eyes roaming over Eddie’s face.

He looks serene, the bat bite on his face as healed as it can get. The doctors had mentioned swelling on his back shoulder blades, but Steve thinks his would be swollen too if he sat on them for a year.

‘ A year and two months.’ He corrects himself.

He stares at the hair that, occasionally when it got matted, Steve would go through and brush it, not wanting him to wake up to being bald because a doctor seemed it necessary.

Wayne mentioned how much he hated the shaved head, and he wouldn’t put him through that again.

As he looks at him, he thinks ‘ I’m doing this for you, so you better wake up, asshole.’

Dustin’s eyes are wide, staring at the members of Hellfire. Steve could only describe the look as ecstatic.

“ Holy shit, I mean, holy shit!” He laughs, and Mike breaks into his own grin.

Jonathan chimes in, disbelief sketched into the lines all over his face. “ Sorry, but doesn’t that seem too convenient? I’m not saying you’re lying Steve, just… If El didn’t find anything, that’s pretty much it.”

His lips form into a line, determined. “ I told you, I’ll be paying for whatever. It’s no skin off your back, or money out of Wayne’s pockets.”

Joyce nudges Hopper when he goes to speak, and nods at Steve. “ If you wanna try, sweetheart, you can. But I don’t want you visiting too much, it’s doing you more harm than good.” She wraps him in a hug, before leading the ex-chief of police out of the room.

Slowly, everyone vacates, until it’s just Steve, Eddie, and El.

She doesn’t make a move toward the door, eyes locked onto his face.

“ You’re lying.” She whispers like a secret.

He nods.

She looks toward Eddie, nervous, and she messes with the hem of her shirt when she starts to speak again. “ I lied too.”

She doesn’t elaborate, walking out of the room without anymore information, and Steve blinks.

The hospital has to call Wayne to confirm the transfer, that's how he learns of the circumstances. He doesn't say much of anything, aside from a promise of a visit on Tuesday before he hangs up.

That night, that same fucking night, he gets a call.

It's the front desk lady, voice distressed rushing through an explanation.

" Eddies gone...Only blood in his bed...We don't know where he is."

Steve stares at the wall, the rest of the words falling upon deaf ears.

Someone had probably found out where he was being held, murdered him a year later for his crimes, and stashed the body away.

He sets the phone back in its holster without saying anything to the other line. Not even a goodbye, or a thanks.

He thinks, it only for a second, that he should've let them just pull the plug, it would've been far less painful.

A creaking brings him out of it, and his eyes dart to his door.

It's dark, too dark, and Steve's aware the Upside Down fucked him up in incomprehensible ways, and now every shadow looks like something,

But there was definitely someone in his house.

He keeps slumped on his bed, the same position as when he'd answered the call. He doesn't flinch when the door pushes open enough for a body to slip in.

There's the sound of something dragging along the carpet as they come closer, probably a shotgun, or maybe they're gonna beat him with his own nail-bat.

He doesn't care to decipher the shape, instead shutting his eyes.

A hand grabs his, sets it on dry skin. His thumb touches a rough patch, a scar like feeling.

One his hands had roamed over while patching up his stomach, refusing to get looked at. That concave patch of scratchy skin that they tell you eventually will just be soft, scarred, but normal.

The skin stretches, and he feels a cheek.

Somehow, he thinks if he keeps his eyes shut, he doesn't have to face the thing in front of him, that it somehow isn't real.

A scratchy, disused, and croaky voice sounds out.

" ' Hey, Hero.' "

[wynnyfryd]

@messessentialist told me her friend called to rant about spotting an “upsettingly beautiful boy in a tj maxx” and i vomited 1200 words about it, enjoy

—

fic idea: chrissy and eddie work together at tj maxx. one afternoon a guy comes in who’s so hot that it kinda just pisses eddie off? bc like, who does this gorgeous asshole think he is??? coming in here and popping his hip at eddie’s counter, like, does he even know how uncomfortable it is to start chubbin’ up in skinny jeans?? that shit chafes!

so eddie gets all flustered and responds by getting an attitude with the guy because he has zero chill (and also because the dude’s iced coffee is sweating a ring all over eddie’s counter, and so help him if his manager gets on his ass one more time about keeping his station tidy—)

“did you need help finding anything else today?” eddie sneers. “coasters, perhaps?”

upsettingly hot guy looks confused for a second before he follows eddie’s pointed glance at the plastic starbucks cup leaving a cold puddle on the laminate, and then he sneers right back; adjusts the ray bans nestled in his perfect honey brown hair and looks eddie up and down — long, slow, one eyebrow lifting in subtle elitist disapproval.

“what?” he snorts, “hot topic wasn’t hiring?”

oh, fuck you very much!

so eddie’s all ‘nemesis acquired’ and holds the biggest grudge of all time. makes a sworn enemy and a boogeyman out of the guy, turns him into urban legend, starts blaming the Upsettingly Beautiful Man for every little thing that goes wrong in his life — at work, at home, at band practice; no place is safe from the dreaded UBM.

“he’s not a fucking cryptid!” gareth snaps one day at rehearsal, chucking a drumstick at eddie’s head. “just track him down and bone already so you can shut the hell up!”

“wouldn’t he just talk about him more after they have sex?” jeff wonders, to which gareth narrows his eyes and raises his second drumstick as a threat.

meanwhile, eddie’s cute coworker chrissy (who he’s become surprisingly good friends with, to the point of referring to her as his work wife) gets a girlfriend. robin’s sooooo pretty, and soooo nice, and sooooo tall, eddie, did you know how tall she is?

yes, chrissy, he’s supremely aware of a stranger’s five-foot-eight-and-a-half stature now, thank you.

“you have to meet her!” chrissy gushes, bouncing up onto her toes.

eddie hangs another shirt. “you have to chill.”

“hey!” she pouts, pixar princess cute. “you wouldn’t tell the sun to dull its shine, would you?”

“i mean, i would, but i doubt the giant ball of plasma cares what i want.”

“okay, whatever, eeyore.” she rolls her eyes but she physically can’t stop beaming even as she does it, and eddie finds himself melting under it — some sort of radiant area attack coming from the apples of this girl’s cheeks, he swears, because the next thing he knows he’s agreeing to go to rando new girlfriend’s housewarming party this weekend so he can meet her properly.

only he doesn’t get to meet her properly, because when he shows up to the party the two bedroom apartment is packed with people he’s never seen, and it’s loud as fuck in here and he’s sweating through his leather from the six flights of stairs he had to climb to reach the place, so he steps through a sliding door out to the balcony and lo and behold, if it isn’t Upsettingly Beautiful Man looking upsettingly beautiful — positively fucking divine, actually, the last wisps of fuchsia sunset catching the gold streaks in his hair and dotting the tip of his flawless nose. Seriously, does this dude have any flaws? A scar, a birthmark, an unsightly ingrown hair? Eddie can’t even see a single blackhead for fuck’s sake.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer” the dude mutters, turning to look at him, and, “oh, my god, you again?”

“uh.”

“i’ve got a fucking coaster this time,” the guy says, lifting his solo cup and giving it a little shake to point out the cork round sitting underneath it, “so if that’s what you came out here to berate me for, then you’ll have to think of something else.”

“uh,” eddie says again, because he has no idea what brought this on but he’s pretty sure it has shit all to do with him, and pretty boy’s really working himself up now, arms moving in sharp gestures as he paces back and forth on the short balcony.

“not that it even matters if i didn’t have a coaster, because this is my house! i can do what i want with my own fucking stuff in my own fucking apartment, nance, i don’t— uh…”

pretty boy’s face blossoms rose petal red, a heavy blush creeping up his jawline as he catches himself mid rant and folds in on himself, crossing his arms over his chest with a sheepish expression.

eddie’s always had a thing for shepherding.

“i’m listening,” he says, popping a cigarette in his mouth and holding the pack out in offering. “if you care to vent.”

the guy — steve, eddie finds out — tells him all about his controlling ex-girlfriend as they work their way through two cigarettes each, the sun slipping away to reveal a full topaz moon, big and low and close, ripe citrus bending the branch of a tree. nance was a real piece of work by the sounds of it, and eddie feels like an absolute shit for the way he treated steve, who had apparently just gotten dumped the night before they met and had been out shopping for a “please take me back” present.

“like that was ever gonna work,” steve mumbles, ashing over the railing. “pathetic. anyway, sorry i was rude to you that day or whatever.”

“you weren’t.”

“nah, i was.” steve shifts his weight, knocks their shoulders together. “not that you didn’t deserve it.”

“yeahhhh,” eddie agrees, cringing at himself. “sorry.”

“all good. so what’s your story then, huh? who pissed in your cheerios that day?”

eddie blames the alcohol fumes wafting from steve’s cup — a justification that makes perfect sense and would totally hold up in a court of law — for what he says next.

“honestly? you.”

steve’s face is so cartoonishly offended that eddie busts out laughing, eyes crinkling, head thrown back.

“oh, so you’re just an asshole,” steve nods sagely. “first cute guy to flirt with me in six weeks is a lunatic. love that for me.”

“no, i—” eddie laughs, “okay, we’re coming back to how you think i’m cute, but i just meant, uh-”

oh, fuck it. eddie’s never been good at holding his cards close to the chest. more of a 52 pick up kinda guy, historically, and why change now?

“you were so gorgeous it, like, genuinely upset me for a second,” eddie admits, running his tongue over his lip. he stubs out his cigarette; turns to look right at steve. “like, uh, like cuteness aggression or some shit.”

steve mirrors his posture, leaning an elbow on the railing, nearly chest to chest. “so you are crazy,” he smiles.

“that’s correct.” eddie swallows.

steve moves in to close the gap. “good crazy?”

“fun crazy, so i’m told.”

“i’m gonna kiss you if that’s cool.”

“very”

the kiss tastes like ripe citrus

[luvwestwood]

"Head Empty" - Gojo Satoru

3,043 words.

warnings. nsfw (18+), satoru is your tutor, resolved sexual tension, semi-public sex, he fingers you so you could focus on your studying, sex depr!ved reader, oral (under the table), he eats you out again, library setting, unprotected sex, praising, creampie, fucking you against the library shelves.

notes. i'm literally dripping like a waterfall as I write this. ugh I wish gojo was my tutor, I'd pass all my exams to make sure I receive that good dicking as a reward when I get an A++++.

art used is by @/yunonoai!

The days would only and inevitably count-down until the start of your finals week. You realised you were too much of a procrastinator - someone or something had to tell you to get your shit together to start studying, or at least to receive that ounce of motivation.

You knew who to call for that. A high grade achiever, ladies man, and the college's example of an ideal student. Gojo Satoru. Oh, and boy was he fine. Maybe, getting a little too fine.

You were majoring in law and history, and fuck, was it doing your head in. Luckily, your classmate Satoru offered some help - free of charge. Knowing you were in a sticky situation, of course you accepted the offer. I mean, who wouldn't? Tutoring from the smartest guy in your year is like learning a ground-breaking ability from a top class sorcerer.

Although, you were starting to regret it at some point.

Being with Satoru in the library - almost all day, every day of the week. Your thoughts were clouded with him. Filthy, or pure, the scenarios were endless.

Chin on your palm, eyes dazed into his own. Head empty. You would find yourself staring at his lips for too long, just to be able to hear him scold you playfully for not paying attention. But then having regret when you had to review the same day's topic for the third time cause you just wouldn't listen.

Nothing he taught you would go into that little brain of yours. Not one bit.

You wondered if he was a different type of smart. Intelligent enough to notice how you'd stamp your thighs together after thinking such vulgar thoughts. Like him bending you over the library's table, then and there, just pounding into you in front of ev-

..A slender hand waves in front of your face. "Hey, are you listening?" your train of thought had come to an end as his voice broke you out of your trance.

Your eyes widen, turning to the white haired man beside you. "..Yeah, of course I am." you quickly pull away your chin off your palm, picking your pen up just to stare blankly at the case study in front of you.

He groans, over the fact that this is a recurring thing every time the two of you study. "Then tell me," he continued, "What was I talking about?"

Your eyes flicker into an eyeroll in defeat, and Satoru just grins. Unfortunately you were unable to catch that.

"..Alright," He gently sighed. "Let's just do some quick drilling questions to get you more warmed up."

You stay quiet, mentally slapping yourself before you think; how does he even put up with me.

You fiddle with your biro as you watch his every move. The filthy thoughts come flooding in again as you watched his fingers turn the pages, and you just imagine that the pages were your fo-

"So, tell me. What was the inqu!s!t!on during the Reformation?" Satoru's lips pursed together in hopes of a correct answer from you.

"..That's easy. It was a court..” Developing your answer, your heart thumped as you awaited a 'correct' or 'wrong' result from Satoru. Why were you nervous anyways..? Were you.. seeking validation from him?

He smiled as you gave him the answer, which was in fact, correct. "Good girl," Satoru put a small tick beside the question to note you had it correct. "I knew you had it in you."

You just smile back, no verbal response. His praise towards you immediately had your legs clamped together like always, making you move around in your chair. Fiddling with the fabric of your mini skirt that you just put on for him to see your bare legs.

Satoru goes off on a tangent about another topic in relation to the reformation, and so forth. The words coming out of his mouth just ran straight through your ears, and to some trash can in the library. The thought of him praising you as you please him kept replaying in your head like a broken record player.

Feet tapping out of nervousness underneath the table, your poor biro was so chewed to the point it didn't look like a pen anymore.

A slam of a book was heard on your left, and it was Satoru. Luckily a few people have left the library, so the only person left was someone on the far end of the table, with their headphones on too.

The tapping of your foot had long ended, as you were faced with a distressed Gojo. His hand remained on the cover of the textbook.

"Okay, I know this is hard. You accepted my offer to tutor you, but if you wanted to study on your own that's fine with me." You weren't sure if he hated you, or was just fed up, but no response came out of your mouth.

His hand leaves the cover, and instead his whole body turns to you on the chair. "It always seems like- you're distracted. You're barely listening to me 70% of the time, could you tell me why?" Oh God, if only he knew why.

You lied, hoping you could get away with it. "I'm just tired. Finals week coming up just has me stressed, so I can't sleep." You mutter under your breath, but the library was quiet enough for Satoru to hear it perfectly fine.

"I don't think that's the issue." He slightly leans in closer to your face to whisper sternly. "You act like I don't see you biting your lip, squeezing your legs together or fiddling with the ends of that tiny skirt of yours every time you look at me."

You could've sworn that your throat went dry as your skirt hypothesis was proven true. "..I swear.. I'm not lying."

Satoru pinches his nose bridge in denial. "Look, I doubt that you would want to fail your finals because you were horny the whole time you were being tutored."

I honestly hope there's something playing in that persons headphones.

The two of you take a few breaths to recollect yourselves, until Satoru quietly speaks again.

"How about, we just ease back into reviewing the same material. Just please, give me your undivided attention. Just for now."

With Satoru knowing your dirty little secrets, there's no hiding now. You had no choice but to oblige. "Yeah okay. I'm all ears."

He opens the textbook again, returning to the same chapter. This time he goes on about the results of the reformation.

But something was different.

His warm hand rested on your bare thigh, almost under your skirt. Dangerously creeping into your inner leg, to the point that his pinky finger could graze against your underwear if he wanted to. Your feet tapping also managed to stop. This was enough to form a pool between your legs.

He paused his reading for a moment to turn to you. "Are you alright with my hand there? I mean, this is the only way I could get you to listen." Satoru caressed the soft flesh of your leg with his thumb. All you were able to do was nod, like an obeying puppy. "..Just, follow along with your textbook like a good girl."

Satoru's fingers brushed against your cotton underwear. He whispered under his breath, "You're so needy, aren't you huh?" Your hand swiftly held onto his wrist out of nervousness, his index finger toying with your panties to move them to the side.

"Just relax, and give me a summary of what you had just learnt."

You coughed, clearing your throat. "W-well, I believe it was for a good cause.. and..." Your breath suddenly hitched, stopping you mid-sentence. You felt Satoru's fingers slide between your folds, only slightly pushing his middle finger into your dripping hole.

Words couldn't describe how embarrassed you felt about the fact you and your panties were absolutely soaked.

Faint squelching noises were heard as he slowly fucked at this rate, two fingers into you under the table. Your words caught up in your throat one after the other, "..And.. attitudes to trade.."

You stopped talking, and your hand rested against your forehead as you felt his fingers curl up inside of you. The way you were squirming about in your chair, and the fact that your slick was fully coating his fingers had Satoru's cock straining against his pants.

"That's it.. you're 100% correct. Keep going." The curling of his middle and ring finger picked up its pace, his thumb now lazily rubbing circles on your clit.

You pulled away your forehead from your hand, moving to place it back against his own arm. "Satoru..I can't.. you're gonna.. make me cum.." You swallowed your spit to suppress a moan.

As soon as you said that, he pulled his fingers out. You could almost whimper out loud at the sudden emptiness in your hole, and that he denied you from getting off on his fingers.

"..What the fuck, Satoru?" You whispered angrily, a grin curling up on his face.

You watched as he wrapped his mouth around his fingers, sucking your juices off them before looking around the library. He pulls out a few papers from his backpack, which was another question and answer activity sheet.

"Do these for me, and by the time I'm back it better be finished, and I expect it to all be answered correctly." He slid the sheet to your side, before glancing around the library again.

Confused, you questioned him. "..Where are you off to?"

You could only see another smirk form on his face before he went underneath the table, disappearing off to somewhere. Oh no. You cautiously looked around your surroundings too. Still that one same person from earlier sitting at the end of the table.

A yelp escapes your mouth little too loudly as you felt him tickling the sides of your thighs with his hands, a creaking noise ringing throughout the library as he dragged your chair closer to the table and to him. Luckily no one regarded that.

Trying not to be obvious, you carried on with your work, making an attempt at the questions.

You could still feel him moving about underneath the table, his hands taking a hold under your thigh, placing both above each of his shoulders.

A playful giggle came out of your mouth as his soft hair tickled your legs, your hand sliding down his arm as they made their way behind you on the chair, cupping the back of your ass. His head now underneath your skirt, his pointer fingers going back under as well to tug on your panties, pulling them off and down your legs.

A wet kiss was immediately planted on your bare pussy, your legs jittering about on his shoulders at the ticklish feeling.

Another creak of the chairs legs against the floor was made as Satoru moved you closer to the edge of the chair to have full access to your pussy.

At one point, your thighs almost locked around his head as soon as his tongue made contact with your clit, and as he sucked on it with his lips before using his tongue to fuck your hole.

The writing on the activity sheet turned in to squiggles, now illegible. Your fingers instead twisted the corner of the paper, ruining the quality all together as it became wrinkly.

Your mouth formed an 'O' shape as you felt him fucking you with his fingers, and lapping at your clit at the same time. You had only covered your mouth with your fist to mask it as a yawn.

Meanwhile your other hand repeatedly tapped on his sculpted shoulder, letting him know you were about to cum. And if he didn't move, there'd be a mess all over the library hard-flooring.

The coil in your stomach had finally snap, your silent orgasm washing over you as Satoru lapped at your juices underneath, making sure not to miss a drop.

Satoru's face so messy and wet, it dripped down his chin as he sucked on your clit one last time for good luck.

You felt Satoru gently grab your thighs, placing them back down on the ground and off his shoulders. You honestly felt like you were gloop, your legs felt as if they were made of dough and unable to stand up on their own.

He crawled back up onto his chair, I don't know how the person on the other end of the table didn't suspect anything like at all. Maybe they're just acting dumb or perhaps just genuinely focused on their work.

You slightly looked down underneath the table, seeing your poor underwear left on the cold ground. I'll.. get that later.

"So, did you finish the sheet?" Satoru glanced over to the sheet, wiping and licking around his lips for any excess on his face.

He almost chuckled out loud as he saw the squiggly lines all over the answer boxes. "I'll take that as a no."

You roll your eyes, unamused. "I couldn't focus."

"Really? Well, that beats the purpose of me trying to help you less than thirty seconds ago." Satoru teases, turning around to the book aisles around him. "Ah- think we need to get a certain book. Come with me."

The two of you immediately knew what that meant, and at the speed of light you both got up from your chairs. The textbooks, bags and stationary were just left on the study tables. You remembered to tug on your skirt to make sure your ass wasn't on show before getting up.

Both you and Satoru scurried away into a book aisle deeper into the library, far away from where everyone was studying. Luckily the library was quiet today, and there are literally no cameras here. You always wondered why, but at this moment there was no way in hell you were complaining.

Reaching the 'Ecology' aisle, which was completely irrelevant to what both of you were studying, the two of you jokingly went separately on each side of the shelf, your eyes watching each other like a hawk through the gaps between the books.

Your heart was about to leap out of your chest as you got closer to the other end of the entire shelf. The last step, and Satoru comes jumping at you, pushing you against the entire shelf and started sloppily kissing each other. Almost like you both were yearning for this.

A whimper and grunt came from yours and Satoru's lips as you both melted into each other, a string of saliva connected your tongues as soon as he pulled away.

Your hand quickly snaked down to the waistband of his pants as he planted hot, wet kisses down your neck making you both giggle.

You just couldn’t believe this was happening right now. His heavy cock hanging and pre-cum leaking from the tip as you pulled it out from his pants. Picking you up, Satoru's hands cupped beneath your bare ass as your legs wrapped around his waist.

His weight fully pressed you back against the shelf, to be able to use his free hand to align his tip with your hole before slowly sliding in. You let out a gasp, you imagined him to be big but not so big in girth, as well as length. His cock stretched you out enough that it will probably remember his shape, and only his.

A long grunt came from his mouth as he felt you sink down on him, sliding in and out slowly - allowing you to adjust before immediately rutting into you at an inhumane pace, the shelves slightly shaking from how hard he was drilling into you.

Satoru's hands now had full support on your legs behind your knees, an 'Ecology 101' book falling off the shelf behind you as you moaned his name into his ear like it was a prayer, only to result in him panting against your neck.

"You drive me crazy," Satoru moans out, sounding feral as he panted between each sentence. "Got me pounding into you against the shelves at this library?" The two of you fucked like rabbits. His lips couldn't last ten seconds without yours.

Your ass would ripple each time he deeped into you, noises of your skin slapping against each other echoing throughout the library.

At one point, he thrusted deep enough to hit your sweet spots that you moaned a bit too loud. The two of you just bursted into a small giggle as he placed his palm over your mouth.

Another book, "All about Aquatic Ecology" falls off the shelf behind you. You wonder how someone hasn't check on you two yet, thinking the falling books were a sign of paranormal activity. I mean, you guys chose the shelves far away from people for a reason.

"F-Fuck, Satoru- I'm gonna.." Beads of sweat were starting to form on your forehead from how hard he was fucking your brains out, you were bound to cry, but you felt him place more kisses against your jaw. "Too fast.. Satoru-"

"I know baby, tell me," Satoru whispered, his thrusts getting slow and staggered. "What is it, you gonna cum?"

Your hands moved from behind his neck to clutching onto the fabric of his shirt on his shoulders. "..Please... let me cum.." Your head fell back against the wooden panel of the shelf. "And your cum.. I want it in me."

You felt Satoru give you one last deep thrust into your pussy, bottoming into you as he let out his thick load into your hole non stop, some of it leaking out and dripping down his cock.

The two of you moaned as quietly as you can as your orgasms washed over the both you, Satoru resting his forehead against your chest, his balls throbbing as his cum pumped into you continuously.

His arms still underneath your legs, Satoru slowly slid his cock out before grunting at the cum that dripped and leaked out of you, onto the library floor. What a mess.

He planted another kiss on your lips before gently placing your legs back down onto the ground, holding your hand for support.

"Fuck, Satoru. You literally blew my back out."

You could feel his warm cum slowly trickle down your inner leg, regretting the fact that you said you'll pick up your panties later on.

Satoru slapped your ass, grabbing a handful afterwards. "Think we'll need to start tutoring back at your place."

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷

[thestarsarebrightertonight]

karma is my boyfriend // fred weasley x fem reader

playlist : karma - taylor swift

summary: when two girls bully and belittle you in the corridors , they seem to have forget the antics your boyfriend likes to pull on bullies.

y/n used , muggleborn gryffindor reader , swearing , bullying , short

masterlist

"ew , what is she looking at?" you heard one of the slytherin girls walking next to you say to her friend , both of them pointing at you and errupting into ear deafening giggles.

you turned to look at her confused , you hadnt glanced their way once , you just minded your business in the crowed corridor on the way to lunch.

"the fuck are you looking at? can i help you mudblood?!" the girl said loudly staring right at you.

"what did you just call me?" you asked with pure shock , you hadnt even done anything?

"i called you a mud. blood. what are you deaf? ugly cow." she giggled with her friend again as you winced at the loud noise hitting your ears.

you werent sure how to respond to this , you were all on your own and confronting the girl anymore would just create a large conflict , one you werent in the mood for.

your eyes welled up with tears as you looked away from the teasing and bitchy girls , shoving your way through the crowd and ignoring the dirty looks you recieved as a result.

----

you finally arrived in the great hall and sat down at the gryffindor table , next to angelina as she quickly went to greet you.

"hey y/n!- oh merlin whats wrong?!" shes said with quickly rising worry upon seeing your teary eyes and frowning face.

this caught freds attention as he observed your face , a deep anger and protectiveness settling in the pit of his stomach at the sight.

"baby whats wrong?" he said softly as you tried to hold back your tears.

"nothing it...it was just these slytherins. girls can be really horrible sometimes , "you voice broke as you forced out light laughs , eventhough no one laughed with you or even smiled.

"what did they say?" katie said , brushing your hair softly to comfort you.

"they just randomly started going off on me for looking at them , eventhough i didnt even look! then they...um they called me a mudblood." you mumbled the last part as everyone gasped and fred seethed.

"seriously?! thats fucking horrible!" angelina screeched in shock.

"im so sorry y/n," hermione added with a look of sympathy , relating to your situation.

"dont worry its fine guys-" you were cut off hastily.

"who." a deep voice said , freds darkened eyes meeting yours.

you gulped at the sight of his unfiltered rage , "i think theyre called lucy and-"

"lucy and beatrice. of course it was them ,theyre proper bullies." ron confirmed as everyone let out nods of recognition , the two girls were known for their unecessary awfulness. yet they never seemed to get taught a lesson.

well that was until they were found screaming and running through the corridors the next day , hair neon green , boils covering their faces , rain clouds chasing after them - drenching them in water and slugs ocassionally spewing out of their mouths.

you gaped at the sight , fred who had his arm around you showing no reaction but a smug grin.

"merlin! i wonder what happened to them?!" you exclaimed to him.

"yeah...i wonder" he smirked as you quickly caught on and gasped.

"you didnt!" you smacked his chest lightly , met by him laughing.

"of course i did!" he grinned , "no one messes with my girl. i was simply using them to set an example."

you stared up at him with you jaw on the floor , yet adoration glossed your eyes over , "thank you freddie."

"dont mention it , once these ones wear off i have another set of hexes prepared for them. thank me later love," he shrugged with a satisfied smile.

[misserabella]

cruel intentions.

abby anderson x fem! reader

synopsis; when you learned that you liked your best friend as more than a friend. and her arms. you definitely like her arms.

cw; +18 content! minor dni!, teasing, dom! abby, sub! reader, size kink, reader is obsessed with abby’s muscles 😩, dirty talking, praising, fingering (r receiving), heavy make-out…

REMINDER: english is not my mother language so i apologize if there are some mistakes <3 !¡ either ways, i hope y’all like it. <3

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!

-

you knew that maybe there could be something wrong with you when you realized that even if you were embarrassed to accept it — and that it made you blush and want the world to swallow you whole, want to melt…— you couldn’t simply not find abby’s arms hot. ‘cause they were so big, and looked so good every time they’d flex. you’d caught yourself staring now more than once at her arms when she’d be training, throwing the basketball around the court…

but then she’d casually dry the sweat of her face on her shirt, exposing her toned stomach and making her biceps bulge… and maybe you did or did not had to go the toilet to fix your ruined panties.

also…

she was fucking strong.

you’d seen her carry around full flour bags of 10kg. 2 on her hands, one on each one of her muscular shoulders for her mother’s bakery. without even struggling.

and you’d tried really hard to not let your mind wonder to the fact that she could easily carry you and throw you around if she wanted —for fucks sake you reached her chest—… but you had ended up with your fingers deep inside your cunt and moaning your best friend’s name that night either ways.

it was getting harder to ignore it. the fact that you liked her. but you couldn’t. you shouldn’t. she probably didn’t even look at you in that way… she didn’t. you had been best friends for years. sure. you two had kissed each other before, but they were just mere silly pecks, like a goodbye peck —with no romantically feelings behind and totally platonic— before getting back to class. she wouldn’t want to kiss you, right?

but fuck if it wasn’t hot seeing her walking around in only a sports bra when you’d hang at her house, her long blonde hair down and silky.

just like right now.

you prayed she couldn’t hear the way your heart was beating inside your chest.

“hey, you okay pretty girl?” she inquired, her warm and big hand falling on your naked thigh, since the warm nights of the spring had made you go for a pair of pijama shorts. you tried to not let the hitch on your breath show, nodding. she frowned, you’d started to get more quiet around her, more awkward. “what’s wrong, hm? you know you can tell me, right? are you not feeling alright?” she inquired, her free hand going to your forehead and cheek to check for any fever. none. you stopped breathing for a second when you saw her inch closer, heart deafening. shit. her lips looked so good.

“i’m alright.” you managed to say, and unconsciously licked your lips, looking at hers. she looked at yours for just a mere second before pulling away back onto the headboard. her hand remained on your thigh, even when she reached for the controller, making it slide upwards and then inwards when she had settled back once again, this time closer to where you felt growing wetter. your cheeks were burning, ‘cause you were getting wet over your best fucking friend.

and she wasn’t even doing anything. shit. when had you started to exactly like her? maybe that day when she punched a douchebag that had threw you a dirty comment on the college hallways? no… when she saved money to buy you that necklace that you always stopped to stare at on your way back to your shared neighborhood? you hadn’t taken it out since, but… you couldn’t remember. have you always felt something for her? fuck.

“alright. what do you wanna watch tonight, hm? anything my girl wants.”

my girl. my girl. my girl.

“that one looks good.” you quickly said, pointing at the first movie that popped up on the netflix’s recommendations.

“cruel intentions.” she said out loud the name of the film, and she shrugged. “okay.” she said, pressing okay and getting comfy. she had promised that she’d watch whatever you chose, anything to make you happy.

you talked just the slightest through the film, laughing a little bit in between scenes on when you’d drift from the tv. that was until something caught your attention.

kathryn had offered to teach cecile how to kiss using tongue.

you were blushing as you watched the two girls slowly and softly kiss before starting to make out, leading to a string of spit connecting their lips once they had pulled away.

abby was staring at the screen, but she too seemed more tense, the little strokes that her thumb was leaving on your thigh coming to stop. there was this unspoken tension in the air. what to say, what do do… should you make a funny joke, don’t say anything at all…?

“wow…” you shockingly said, a smile creeping up your face.

“please, that was nothing. i could do better than her.” abby said back, teasingly, a smirk on her face.

“oh yeah?” you teased her back. “sure.”

“you don’t believe me?” she inquired, acting hurt. the hand on your thigh was now burning.

“not really. no.” you smiled.

“want me to prove it to you?” your breath hitched, the smirk on her face growing when she saw the flush on your cheeks under the deem light of her lamp.

“yeah.” you said, looking at her lips and dampening your own, and she couldn’t help but stare at yours, heart beating fasted. shit. she hadn’t expected you’d say yes. dreamed of it? wished for it? sure. but never thought it could actually happen. she had seen you staring, that’s for sure, but she hadn’t said anything, had waited for you to actually speak up about it, but you had been acting so shy that she never expected that you’d actually do it.

“fucking finally.” she whispered against your lips, one of her hands coming up to cup at your cheek. her lips crashed against yours and you couldn’t help but moan when you felt her tongue push inside your mouth. the kiss was dirty, and needy, and messy, but you wouldn’t change it for nothing in the world, ‘cause it felt like fucking magic.

the hand resting on your thigh reached closer to where you most needed her, teasing, warming up your skin and leaving it in goosebumps. you kissed her back with neediness, clasping at her strong shoulders and her hair, which you pulled, making her groan.

when she pulled away, the two of you were panting, and she was smirking when you pushed forwards to kiss her again, but she stopped you with one of her hands on your neck.

“that good?” she teased you, eyebrows rising and a smirk showing on her now swollen lips, and you huffed, kissing her again and sighing when her hand got closer to your leaking little cunt and later on moaning when her palm cupped it, groaning at the feeling of the damp patch growing on your panties. “so fucking wet… is that all for me doll?” she inquired, kissing your neck while starting to rob your puffy clit from over your underwear, the friction being enough to make you moan out loud.

you nodded, but she was not having that.

“nuh-uh, use your words pretty girl.” she demanded, and you whimpered.

“yes, fuck abby, ‘s all for you…” your thighs were shaking, and you were aching for more. shit, you’ve dreamed about this for so long…

“atta girl.” she praised and you let out a tiny needy moan that made her smirk only grow more. “you like that baby? like it when i call you my good girl?” you moaned, letting out a breathing ‘yes’ that had her heart jumping inside her chest. fuck, you were so hot. and fuuuck, you were so wet.

her fingers slid easily through your folds now that she had pulled your beautiful lace panties to the side —the ones you had wore just for her—. “gonna be my good girl and take my fingers, hm?”

you nodded, begging for it, moaning when her middle finger simply pressed against your clenching hole, pleading to be filled.

just the stretch of one of them had you breathless, your head disconnecting. you let out the most beautiful and pornographic moan abby had ever heard, and fuck if it didn’t make her more horny that she already was —if that was even possible—.

“aw, look at you, you’re sucking me in, baby.” you whimpered when she thrusted her finger inside your warm and tight walls, your slick making it easy to slip in and out. your cheeks were burning, and you were shaking. fuck. why was her teasing you hot? “you hear that baby? hear my fingers fucking you like the little needy girl that you are?” the squelches that your cunt was making made you squirm and blush beetle red, moaning at her words. fuck. she was driving you insane.

a second finger went in and you felt like fading, jolts of electricity cursing through your veins, a knot tightening on your lower stomach.

“fuck, abby!” you cried out when she curled them, her fingertips pressing against that spongy spot in between your walls that could make you fall apart.

“there she is… right there, huh baby?” she smirked, and you nodded, moaning with every new thrust. your eyes fell to her arm, seeing the way her muscles would show and flex under her skin, how her veins would pop, the slick covering her palm... you moaned, and your cunt tightened around her fingers. that’s when she noticed what you were looking at, and she groaned. “fuck. i knew it. i knew i wasn’t imagining shit. you like my arms, don’t you baby? i bet you like my hands too, hm? thought about them a lot while playing with your little pussy, didn’t you?” you were nodding, and babbling the moment her free hand came up to your neck, choking you. your tight squeezed her fingers again. “fuuuck.” she groaned. “knew my pretty girl would like being choked.” you were perfect. holy shit, you were perfect for her —but that’s something she already knew—. your mind was getting dizzy, and your orgasm was so close your back was arching and you were losing your voice due to your constant moaning. “you gonna cum, baby? gonna be a good girl for me and cum all over my fingers?” you cried out.

“yes, shit abby, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-“ next thing you knew? you were gushing all over her fingers, falling apart, thighs shaking and broken moans spilling from your puffy reddish lips. you looked like a fucking angel, and the fact that it was her who was making you feel this good was making abby impossibly horny.

she helped you rode it, her fingers fucking into you in the perfect way to make it last for what it seemed hours and hours. you were spent by the time you came down from it, and abby was licking her fingers clean with her tongue, what made you let out a shaky breath.

and you knew.

you knew by the way she was looking at you that you were not done yet.

-

a/n;🤭😋💋

abby anderson masterlist! <3

[mrdixon]

Shut it

pairing: established daryl dixon x f!reader

wc: 5.9k

summary: pretty much trying to make Daryl jealous GONE WRONG !!!!

warnings: 18+ content, swearing duh, hair pulling, fingering, rough sex, p-in-v, unprotected sex, squirting, little bit degrading, some spanking,,,,

A/N: GOD this took way longer than it shouldve but writers block makes me want to shove my fingers in my eyes. anyway i hope this was worth the wait because i do not enjoy this as much as i should. BEWARE not fully proofread so i may come back to edit things im just so fucking tired and wanna get this out asap. also i personally dont believe that daryl would be the type to be this rough during sex but a guy can dream…

masterlist!

Daryl was never the jealous type, he trusted you and your decisions so there was no point in getting jealous. He had you, you both knew it. So when a certain man in Alexandria started pursuing you, he didn't pay much attention.

It sort of bothered you, feeling kind of guilty that you wanted your boyfriend to be jealous. You guessed it was just cause you wanted him to be possessive, but he wasn't like that. He cherished you, held you carefully. Sure he liked people knowing he was your boyfriend, but he wouldn't go as far as to mark you up or do something rash in public. That didn't mean he didn't care about you, hell he loved taking care of you and loving you. He just preferred to keep your intimate life private.

You were outside in the front yard tending to some flowers when the guy pursuing you, William, walked up.

“Hey, (Y/N).” He grinned down at you, making you have to look up at him. Squinting from the sun in your eyes, smiling.

“Oh hey, what brings you here?” You replying in a friendly tone, wiping the dirt off your knees before standing up and taking your gloves off. You could feel William’s eyes trail down your body and you mentally eye rolled.

“Just… y’know. Hanging around, taking a walk… Whatcha’ up to?” He murmured, clearly distracted.

You laughed sarcastically, “just fixin’ up these flowers. Couple of kids ran over them yesterday.” William nodded absentmindedly, staring at everything but your eyes.

“Uhuh… poor dog…” He mumbled, clearly not paying attention to anything you just said and it took everything in you to not just flip and slap him across his stupid face.

The front door opened, Daryl walking out with his crossbow on his back, covering those angel wings on the fabric of his vest. You looked up at the sky as if thanking some kind of god for sending Daryl to save you. Though to your misfortune, he wasn’t staying for long.

“Jus’ goin’ out huntin’,” he murmured gruffly and kissed your cheek briefly, nodding towards William before walking down the street towards the gates. Your eyes trailed after him sadly while your shoulders slumped, nibbling your lip to stop yourself from calling him back.

“Uh (Y/N)? I was wondering if you wanted to accompany me to pick some berries later, I could even make you a pie with them if you’d like…” William broke through your thoughts and you thought for a bit. One half of you was telling you to say no, but the other half sort of wanted to make Daryl jealous. Or at least try. Ultimately you decided on the second option, this could be fun…. right?

“Sure, later then?” You smiled at William, watching as he looked down towards your chest again, a slight scowl appearing on your face.

“Mhm… I’ll pick you up later then,” he mumbled. You immediately broke out into a smile once he looked up at you again, you just nodded before turning towards your home. Your smile dropping once you entered the house.

The hard part was getting through the afternoon with William, the aftermath with Daryl would surely be the best part.

You sat in the kitchen, doodling in your notebook as you waited for William to come pick you up. Around this time Daryl came home, removing his muddy boots knowing how much you hated when he made a mess in the house before walking into the kitchen to find you with your back to him. You could feel his gaze trail down your body, keeping still particularly around your legs, which were shown off by the shorts you were wearing. Unlike William, you quite liked when Daryl stared at you like this.

You giggled once he came up behind you and wrapped you up in his big, strong arms. Planting soft kisses along your neck and exposed shoulders. “Mmmh… ma girl dress up fer me?” He grumbled, turning your chair around to get a closer look at you. You felt a sense of pride as he bit his lip, admiring your legs, more specifically your thighs which he squeezed affectionately. You weren’t wearing anything extremely extraordinary per se, but it was new to him. You usually covered yourself up for no particular reason, maybe it was your subconscious teasing Daryl since you knew how much he loved seeing you, every part of you. You were just simply wearing a lower cut tank top along with some jean shorts you pulled up in the back of the closet.

He grunted, moving his lips underneath your jaw and planting teasing kisses there, causing you to giggle, “I didn’t dress up for you… I’m going out.” You smiled, rubbing the stubble at his jaw with your thumb.

He jerked his head back slightly, furrowing his brows. “Goin’ out without me?” He snorted jokingly, running his fingers through your hair, gently massaging your scalp which elicited a soft moan from you. “Sounds like you wanna stay home wit’ me…” He huffed, kissing your neck again more forcefully. His hands squeezing at your sides as if trying to convince you to stay home.

You groaned, pushing him back, his hands sliding down to your hips. As much as you’d like to stay home and continue this with him… You were on a mission. And it was to make this man in front of you get jealous. It was like your one fantasy about him, treating you like you were nothing but his. Using you to satisfy his needs, fucking you roughly…

“Sorry baby, I promised to help…” He narrowed his eyes at the nickname but shrugged it off, instead frowning. Rubbing circles into your hips.

“Who ya goin’ with?” He mumbled, burying his face into your neck. Gently pecking any skin he could get his lips on. Your shoulders shook softly as you chuckled, your fingers in his hair.

“William, he asked to help pick berries so he can bake us a pie.” You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant about it.

“Err William, the guy you were talkin’ to earlier? The guy who has a painfully obvious crush on ya?” He furrowed his brows questioningly, was it finally working?

You rolled your eyes, “well yeah. That doesn’t mean I can’t be friends with him though, right?” He narrowed his eyes, moving his hands down to your thighs and shrugging.

“Guess so, wha’s the harm in that?” He murmured, rubbing his thumb against the flesh of your thigh. A spark of warmth pooling into your stomach at the gesture, “jus’ be careful. I trust ya, I don’ trust him though. I see the way he looks at ya.”

You sighed, slightly disappointed you couldn’t wring out a bigger reaction from him. Nodding in understanding you responded, “yeah I know. But don’t worry he’s a good guy, I can see it.” You lied smiling, hoping he wouldn’t see through you. He squinted at your defending of William, but again he shrugged it off.

“Well alrigh’, have fun then.” He kissed your cheek, removing his hands from your thighs. The warm feeling leaving you with his hands. You stood up, closing your notebook and wrapping your arms around his neck. Kissing him tenderly, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kissed you back happily. His arms held you in place as his kisses moved down to your chin and onto your neck, softly suckling at the skin causing you to giggle and squeeze him back.

The knock at the door catches you both off guard, Daryl letting you go reluctantly after kissing your lips briefly. You sighed not wanting to leave him but you knew you had to if you wanted to see a jealous counterpart to your boyfriend. As you walked towards the door he gave you a small pat on your ass, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

You grinned at him before opening the door, William’s eyes immediately blazing down your figure. You could hear Daryl snort behind you causing a smirk tug at the corners of your lips. Deciding to tease Daryl a bit you chuckled at William, “like what you see?”

William was caught off guard by your comment, obviously never hearing you give in to his advances, “oh yeah very much…” You smirked, nudging William playfully.

Daryl stood still behind you, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed. “Yeah you bring ‘er back before 7 pm. An’ don’ try anything’,” he said jokingly, but there was a hint of seriousness in his tone.

William straightened up, he was well aware of your relationship with Daryl but it never stopped him. “Of course… I’ll make sure she’s well… taken care off.” He hovered his hand onto the small of your back, you took the opportunity and placed his hand firmly on the area. Smirking at Daryl.

“I’ll see you later then…” You grinned, placing an arm around William’s shoulder. You cringed in your head, doing all this with William was probably fueling his desire for you. The thought sickening. But by the look on Daryl’s face, it was working. His eyes narrowed, nodding slowly while he nibbled the inside of his lip. He waved to you, keeping an eye on William’s hand on the small of your back while he shut the door to your house.

You sighed deeply now that you were alone with William, slowly moving out of his grasp discreetly. The man grinned at you which you returned with an awkward smile. Now for the hard part, actually hanging out with this guy.

After an agonizing 3 hours of picking berries while flirting with this guy he finally brought you home, after 7 pm, just so Daryl can get a bit more angry about that. You knocked on the door, hearing heavy footsteps come closer before Daryl opens the door.

“Hey… it’s like 8pm,” he murmured, kissing your cheek. You smiled, turning to William.

“Oh well I just had soooo much fun with William, he is such a great guy!” You exclaimed over enthusiastically which Daryl found odd but he shrugged it off, eyeing the man behind you. Who was licking his lips while looking down your back.

“Is that so…” Daryl mumbled skeptical of you two. The other day you were just complaining about how creepy this dude was, and now you’re talking him up like he’s the best person in this fucked up world?

Your eyes twinkled once you realized your teasing was getting to him, deciding to push it and hug William, reluctantly giving him a kiss on the cheek. He of course, hugged you back happily, his hand trailing lower down your back….

You gasped as Daryl grabbed you before William could touch you further. “Okay tha’s enough, goodbye William.” He grunted and slammed the door in his face.

You bit your lip in anticipation, looking up at Daryl who was fuming. “Hun…?”

“What the hell was that about?” He grumbled, pulling away from you. You tilted your head innocently, walking up to him.

“What do you mean?” You asked gently, running a hand down his chest. Which he grabbed forcefully, throwing it back.

“You think tha’s funny?” He growled lowly, his eyes glaring at you enraged. You chuckled, not taking this seriously because it was what you wanted. Stepping towards him with a seductive look on your face.

“Aww is my Daryl jealous?” You hummed playfully. He stared at you in disbelief, running his hand through his hair, a loud grunt escaping him as he paced the room. Your face dropped immediately, definitely not the reaction you expected.

“Tha’s what that was about? You tryna get me jealous? Yer fuckin’ kiddin’ me girl,” he spat agitated. You just stood there looking down at your fingers, not expecting this to backfire so badly. “Shoulda jus’ fucked him at that point. The asshole was practically fucking ya with his eyes.” He growled lowly, pacing around you.

“I didn’t mean to—” You started softly.

“Didn’t what?!” He yelled causing you to flinch, he rarely raised his voice at you. Just by this action alone you knew he really was angry, not just frustrated, pissed. Off.

“I just wanted to… get you angry,” you mumbled, refusing to look him in the eye.

“Well ya did, happy?” He grunted, standing in front of you with his hands on his hips. A stern look on his face, “I didn’ even care if ya wanted to hang out with the guy. But goin’ as far as to kiss and touch up on ‘im. Not fuckin’ funny. Especially when ya’ve been complainin’ about him all week, wha’s wrong with you?”

“I didn’t… actually kiss him y’know…” you argued softly, looking down ashamed of yourself.

“Not the point. It’s the fact that you, flirted, acted invitingly, and even kissed a guy on the cheek who’s been tryna get wit’ ya, invitin’ him fer more. Hence the way he almost grabbed your ass. You led him on, purposefully to get a rise outta me.” He said through gritted teeth, his gaze piercing.

You sighed, realizing how out of line you’ve been acting. Your own lustful desires leading you to act out stupidly. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean for this to go this far.” You whispered, looking down embarrassed.

He took your chin, tilting your head up to look him in the eyes. Fury flashing through his blue eyes, his breathing heavy. “I bet,” he grumbled, harshly letting you go before walking upstairs to your shared bedroom. You stood downstairs, beating yourself up mentally for acting like an idiot. The door to your bedroom slamming shut as Daryl locked himself up upstairs.

You groaned, digging your palms into your eyes frustratingly. Not liking the outcome of this at all, instead you were left needy, ashamed, and with your boyfriend angry at you.

A few days passed and Daryl was still rightfully so angry at you, ignoring you and giving you the cold shoulder. Still, you couldn’t help but feel annoyed. Was he really that angry?

You found your boyfriend outside on the front porch sharpening his knife, his muscles flexing slightly by the force he used. The longer he stayed angry at you the more desperate you got. You were practically aching for his touch, to feel him against you.

“Dar?” You said quietly, stepping out onto the porch. He didn’t turn his head but you could see his eyes shift up towards you, grumbling something you couldn’t quite make out before returning his gaze on his knife. You frowned once you realized he was ignoring you again, moving to sit down next to him, to which he immediately stood up and holstered his knife. “Can you just talk to me?” You sighed exasperated.

“Dun’ wan’ ‘ta talk.” He mumbled, stepping into the house. You followed him in, slamming the door behind you. Daryl spun around, glaring at you. “The fuck do you wan’?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Can we just talk and be fucking mature about this?”

“Yer one ‘ta talk,” he grumbled under his breath to which you rolled your eyes at.

“I said I was sorry, I really am Daryl! But you’re being so unfair, you won’t even kiss me.” You threw your arms up before running your hands through your hair, all he did was roll his eyes and shake his head.

“Whatever, you pull tha’ shit on me then you get what you get,” he grunted before turning to head into the living room. You watched your boyfriend’s back angrily as he exited from the conversation.

“Fine,” you grumbled to yourself, stomping upstairs. If he wanted to play this game then you were too, wanting to see how long it’d take for him to snap. Rummaging through your closet you decided to put on a very, very short skirt. Wondering to yourself as to why you even have this in the first place, well first time for everything. You made sure to put on a pair of panties that you knew for sure would drive Daryl crazy, finally finishing the outfit with a tight fitting tanktop. After looking at yourself in the mirror you snorted, you looked ridiculous for sure but maybe it’d work.

You made your way down the stairs quietly, walking with a little sway in your step. Daryl wasn’t shy about his attraction to your body, he loved having his hands on you so you were curious to see what he would do seeing you like this. Especially having not touched you for days now. You moved swiftly into the living room where he was sitting on the couch smoking, you felt his eyes immediately shift over to your body, a shift from where he was sitting.

“Wha’ are ya wearin’?” He grunted, his voice a slight rasp while he looked you up and down. You turned to him, a small smirk playing at the corner of your lips.

“It’s a little hot today… s’all.” You chuckled, moving towards the disc rack. It held a lot of cds for music, the two of you never played anything because of how outdated it was but you went over to look at it anyway. Hearing the way he choked once you bent over to check out the bottom of the rack. You moved onto your knees, reaching under the rack to grab, nothing. There was nothing under the rack, but his breathing was getting heavier and you knew he would give in soon.

You sat on your knees, turning your head over your shoulder to look at him. Smiling once you met his eyes, he was already looking at you with parted lips. His cigarette sat between his index and middle finger, nothing but a mere object as he already forgotten about it. His leg crossed over the other while his eyes started at your own, slowly moving down to your lips. Then the swell of your neck, down your back, and of course over to your ass which was peaking out from under your skirt. He swallowed thickly when he noticed the lace fabric of your panties, contrasting beautifully with the colour of your skin. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, from the look in his eyes you knew he was aroused. You just had to push him further to get him to actually act on it…

You stood up slowly, making sure to flash him a little of your panties. He coughed, putting out the cigarette as you walked up to him. Slow and seductive. However he kept his eyes ahead, you would’ve scoffed if you were still in a mood but you were far too aroused to do all that. He was stubborn and you praised him for it, after all you were both the same. You lightly traced your fingers up his forearm, towards his bicep, and then over his shoulder. Standing behind him as you leaned down next to his ear, “what’s that look for?” You whispered low and sultry.

“Wha’ do you think yer doin’?” He murmured quietly, his breathing shortening. You smirked, placing a soft kiss under his ear, his breath hitching as you do that. “(Y/N).” He said lowly, your hands moving from his shoulders and down the front of his chest, slowly making your way down to his belt. Looking over his shoulder and noticing the huge bulge in his pants, a sense of pride flowing through your body at the effect you had on him. He uncrossed his legs due to the tightness in his pants, groaning softly as your hands moved down towards his thighs, teasingly avoiding his erection.

“I’m not doing anything,” you whispered in his ear, causing him to shudder back onto the couch. His breathing shallow and hot while one of your hands moved towards the erection.

“Don’t.” He muttered, grabbing your wrist. He flicked your hand back away from his crotch, suddenly getting up and turning to face you. His eyes were narrowed and full of fury, but most importantly. Lust.

His piercing blue eyes looked at you with a hungry gaze, stepping around the couch to stand closer to you. Nibbling the inside of his lip as he stared at you, especially your exposed thighs. He abruptly picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder carelessly, causing you to shout out in protest. “Daryl! Put me down!”

”Shut it.” He growled lowly which for sure shut you up quickly. He moved through the house with ease, walking up the stairs and making his way towards your shared bedroom. His fingers dug into your thighs possessively which drew out your excitement even more, wondering what he would do to you. He walked into the bedroom with you over his shoulders, shutting the door with his foot and throwing you onto the bed, eliciting a small yelp from you. Your eyes were wide when you met his own, his jaw clenched at the sight of you laying on the bed in the provocative outfit. He grunted, crawling onto the bed and up to you. Rough and calloused hands gripping onto your thighs as he pushed them apart, a raspy groan leaving his mouth as he saw your soaked panties. “This whatcha’ want?” He murmured with a hint of amusement, running a finger over your slick covered panties.

“Daryl,” you gasped, closing your eyes. His free hand shot up to grab your face harshly, your eyes opening in shock.

“You look at me, ya ain’t gettin’ outta this one easily girl.” He drawled, letting go of your face as he removed his finger from your panties, “and I don’ wanna hear a word from tha’ pretty little mouth of yours unless I say so, ya hear me?” You nodded slowly as you met his intense gaze.

“Good girl,” he murmured which had you throbbing around nothing. His hands grabbed at the collar of your tanktop, ripping it off your body easily. You gasped, wanting to scold him for ripping it but you kept quiet as to not anger him even more. His eyes rolled back in arousal when he saw you weren’t wearing a bra underneath the top, “such a fuckin’ tease.” His hands groped at your breasts, your nipples hardening under his touch as you let out a quiet moan. He leaned down to place a soft kiss on one of them, licking around the bud before biting down harshly. A loud groan left your lips, causing him to growl and pull away.

Your eyes searched for his while you panted softly from the loss, his hands gripping your waist and flipping you over onto your stomach before grabbing your hips and lifting them up so your ass hung up in the air. “Hold yerself up baby,” he grunted. You did as you were told, placing your hands underneath you and onto the bed while pushing yourself up so you were on your hands and knees. Blushing profusely from the position you were in, trying to turn your head to look back at him. He slapped your ass once, a groan escaping you at the contact before his hands started pulling off your skirt, tossing it onto the floor haphazardly leaving you in your lace panties.

He sat up on his knees, teasingly running two fingers over the waistband, lifting it off your skin only to let it go and have it snap against your hips. You jolted slightly, one of his hands rubbing your ass softly before slapping it again. He leaned closer towards your ear, biting your earlobe before whispering gruffly, “don’ think ‘m gonna be gentle tonight. No, you got yerself into this.”

You whimpered as he pulled away, a big hand grabbing at the crotch of your panties and ripping them apart. The same hand running its fingers through your slick causing you to moan, your arms shaking momentarily. It didn’t take long before two thick fingers plunged themselves into your tight entrance, the sudden intrusion causing you to cry out, “Daryl! Wait!”

“Shut up,” he grunted. Forcing his fingers in and out of you roughly, the pain mixed with pleasure only made you wetter, groaning softly. The obscene noises of his fingers thrusting into you at that speed echoed through the small space of your bedroom, your moans getting louder as you got closer to your orgasm.

But just as you were about to reach that sweet release he yanked his fingers out of you, bringing them up to you and shoving them into your mouth. Immediately your tastebuds were met with the taste of your own arousal, “suck.” He growled lowly to which you obliged, sucking on his fingers that were covered in your juices. He groaned as your tongue slithered between his two fingers in your mouth, reaching down to adjust himself in his pants.

He removed his fingers, moving behind you once more and giving you a little tap on your bum. While you kept your head straight forward, looking at the wooden headboard. You heard the clink of his belt being undone, soon pulled out of his belt loops. You breathed heavily out of your nose once you heard the sound of the belt being tossed aside, hitting the floor with a slight thud. The heat pooling between your legs was getting hotter, throbbing with need as you waited patiently. Your arms were burning from holding yourself up while your stomach swirled with anxiety and excitement.

You heard him shuffle behind you, his pants soon joining the rest of the garments on the floor. His eyes were on you the entire time, though you couldn't see it, you could feel it. By the way his breathing deepened seeing your pussy clench at nothing, the way a low purr sounded from the back of his throat, and the way your skin burned from his lustful gaze. When it got a little too silent you turned your head back, you eyes immediately meeting his. He peered at you through his eyebrows, unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves and rolling them up over his elbows. Biting your lip when you saw his forearms, sprinkled with random tattoos here and there. Ones you’d kiss over when he'd make gentle love to you, but it would be different this time.

You couldn't look any lower from the position you were in, settling to look back at the headboard. Which had definitely seen better days. A small gasp left your lips when his large hands suddenly grabbed at your hips, engulfing them completely. His touch wasn't gentle. His calloused hands rubbed at your hips harshly, squeezing and pinching your sides resulting in you mewling softly from the tinge of pain. Suddenly, a slap sounded through the room as his thick cock landed on your ass. A low groan escaping him as he slowly rocked himself against you, rubbing his length between your asscheeks.

“Daryl….” You whined, moving your hips back against his cock. His hand made contact with your ass again, the slap echoing through the room as he pulled his cock away from your ass.

“Wha’ did I say?” He drawled lowly, rubbing the area he just smacked, spanking you once more causing you to jolt. “Answer me.”

You whimpered at the sting, your skin turning a bright red. “No speaking unless asked…”

He spanked you again on the same buttock, eliciting a moan from you this time. “See? Ya know the rules so why do ya not listen?” He tutted you, hitting your other buttock. He sighed, placing his thumbs on the folds of your pussy, spreading them and teasing a finger at your entrance. Just circling it around, not entering you. “Yer such a bad girl.”

You whined, trying to push back on his fingers, desperate for something to ease the ache in your core. He pulled back once again, slapping your pussy. The action sending a wave of pleasure through your body though it was harsh, a quiet mewl slipping out your mouth. Your arms were slowly getting tired of holding yourself up, moving down to your elbows which made your back arch. He grunted, running a hand down your back and into your hair before suddenly gripping it, pulling you up harshly against his chest. You cried out in pain, his lips against your ear while his fingers remained gripped in your hair. “Yer not listening again. I told ya to hold yerself up, so do it.”

He threw you back down, your eyes teary as you placed your hands down again to hold yourself up. His hands found place on your hips again, the rough feel of his palm against your skin made you shiver. One hand left you to grab his cock, teasing it around your clit. “Ya wan’ me to fuck ya, don’cha?” He murmured teasingly after hearing your impatient whines. He chuckled, finding your desperation amusing. “This is wha’ ya wanted, isn’ it?” He slapped the tip of his cock upwards against your clit, your wetness only fueling the sensation further.

“So fuckin’ wet,” he murmured, circling his tip around your entrance. The longer he teased you, the more you were willing to speak up. You moved back on him, his cock slipping into you slightly before he hissed and pulled out.

“Jesus fucking christ can you just fuck me already?” You snapped, earning a spank from him once again. You groaned, already sick of his teasing. “Daryl if you don’t—”

He suddenly shoved his whole length into you, the stretch painful as he started thrusting in and out of you hard. Not giving you any time to adjust to his size, crying out. “If I don’? Yer just gonna find someone else to fuck ya?” He growled gruffly, his hips snapping against yours.

Pleasure soon overpowered the pain, a loud moan ripping itself out of you. He groaned in response, squeezing your hips as he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside you. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, making an erotic symphony that heightened the both of your arousals. “Not gonna answer me? You’d jus’ let anyone fuck ya huh?” He grunted, the tip of his dick hitting closer towards your sweet spot.

You cried out once again, tears of pleasure brimming at your waterline, shaking your head at his question. Your fingers gripped onto the bedsheets below you, your biceps burning which made you just want to drop down onto the bed while he fucked you senseless. His fingers found themselves in your hair again, tugging you upwards so your back was against his chest, growling into your ear.

“Wha’ was tha’? You’d let anyone fuck ya, righ’?” He grunted, thrusting up into your sweet spot, eliciting a loud whine out of you. “Yer such a filthy slut, ya know tha’?” He bit at your neck, leaving a mark that was going to be hard to cover.

You clenched around his cock at his words, shaking your head slightly while he tugged your head back further against his shoulder. “No…” You moaned weakly, the pain from him pulling your hair was even more arousing than you thought. The tears in your eyes spilling over and down your cheeks.

“Yeah yer mine… This pussy?” He mumbled, reaching down to rub your clit in time with his thrusts, your back arching as you cried out in ecstasy. “This pussy is mine, only mine ya hear me?” He let out a primal growl, tugging your hair once more.

“Yes! Yes Daryl only yours!” You cried out pathetically, your walls clamping down on his cock as it moved in and out of you at a punishing speed. He grunted approvingly, releasing his grip on your hair which caused you to fall over, landing straight onto your face into the pillows. His hands then gripping at your ribcage, just under your breasts as he pounded deep into you, hitting that same spot over and over again. “Fuck… Oh shit, Daryl..” You whined into the pillows, the bed creaking under the movements.

He pulled you up again, his hands still under your breasts while he whispered in your ear. “Ya gonna be a good slut for me now?” He grunted lowly, you nodded vigorously as moans continued to escape your mouth. “No one can fuck you like I can.” And with that he held you just enough to push himself deeper into you, making sure you feel every inch of his cock invading your tight heat.

The small space of your bedroom soon shifted into a safe, intimate haven in which you two created. Full of your moans and his grunts, skin slapping against skin, while the bed rocked under your movements. You felt a familiar feeling building up and you knew you were close, clenching around him as your moans got whinier and breathy.

He groaned, feeling your walls tighten around him, thrusting deeper into you. You whined at the feeling, anticipating the soreness you’d feel in the morning. “Daryl…” You whined, “I’m gonna cum.”

He growled, pulling you up against his chest again, a hand near your throat while the other moved between your thighs. “Ya really think ya deserve to cum?” He groaned, his breathing a little ragged from his own orgasm building up. His fingers moved to play at your clit again, tugging it as he thrusted sloppily into you. “Go on.”

You mewled softly, turning your head to his. He grunted, his lips meeting yours messily. Shoving his tongue into your mouth and exploring the depths of it while bringing you both closer to the edge. You bit his lip, earning a whimper from him as your walls clenched around his cock, reaching your climax. His hands jumped up to your breasts while you screamed in ecstasy, pulling your nipples while speeding up his pace.

Your back arched, the pleasure getting overwhelming as he continued to delve deeper, abusing that sweet spot inside of you. “Fuck! Daryl too much!” You cried, reaching back and grabbing his hips. But it didn’t stop him.

“I told ya, ya aren’ gettin’ out of this easily,” he grunted, his hips maintaining his pace while you felt something else squirt out of you. The slippery liquid slipped out of your pussy, slithering down the base of his cock and onto the bedsheets. A rough moan tearing through your throat before collapsing down onto the bed, feeling him pump his cum into you.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, stilling inside of you as he emptied out inside your cunt. He chuckled, pulling out of you and letting the rest of your body fall onto the now wet sheets. “Haven’t seen ya do that before,” he sighed, patting your ass before falling down next to you. “Ya got wha’cha wanted?”

You looked at him tiredly, the tears on your face dried, your voice too hoarse to even respond. Settling for a gentle nod and a small, “I win.” He chuckled, shaking his head before leaning back and closing his eyes. He was also extremely exhausted.

You lay there, unable to move and felt his cum slowly drip out of you. It almost felt uncomfortable but you couldn’t be bothered to get up and clean yourself, wanting to lay there and sink into the sheets. You sighed contently, scooting closer to him and burying your face into his chest. He grumbled, his arm wrapping itself lazily over your waist. You smiled to yourself, closing your eyes as you felt the rush of satisfaction. Sure you were going to feel absolute pain once you woke up, and maybe you wouldn’t be able to walk or speak for a while. Nevertheless you had finally got yourself fucked rough by a jealous Daryl, who was no longer mad and pushing you away. The issues led up to something amazing for the both of you. Maybe you should get him angry more often.

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’ve never had a particularly strong desire to get high. Altered mind states have always been somewhat unappealing to me. The only drug I’ve ever enjoyed taking was a prescription strength muscle relaxant that loosened all my knots at once and sent me into the boneless slumber of jello. Top marks.

But I have dabbled with pot. As I’m wildly sensitive to smoke my only recourse was to try edibles and anyone could’ve predicted this was a recipe for disaster. So here’s the story of the first time I got high.

Connor was a major stoner. He was a high energy guy who loved hiking, had his shit together, and absolutely loved getting high and relaxing. One day he decided to make pot brownies. Connor was an amazing cook in his own right but he came into my life at a time when I was eating mayonnaise sandwiches and started giving me real food so I viewed him as a paragon of cookery. He made amazing desserts. And he didn’t make a batch of no pot brownies.

I’d never had one of Connor’s brownies, before, but dear god I wanted one when they came out of the oven in a waft of rich chocolatey smells. They were fudgey and perfect and all that I wanted in the world was to eat one. I watched him take a bite, burning with envy and desire.

Being high seemed like a small price to pay if only I could sink my teeth into the warm splendor of brownie. I came up to where he was sitting on the couch, slightly behind his left shoulder. “Hey. I want to try a bite,” I told him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” I was sure as fuck that I wanted that brownie in my mouth.

Connor was sat facing the tv and held up his hand without looking so I could take a bite. I am not a creature of modest bites. And I wanted that brownie. I took a huge bite, carving into the interior of the brownie, leaving Connor with a only a rim.

He pulled his hand back and saw the brownie crime I had committed and gave a resigned chuckle. “Well this is going to be fun.”

On one other occasion in my life I’ve tried an edible and there was a brief relaxed period before things went horribly wrong that made me think, this is probably where most people stop and enjoy themselves.

But on this occasion, the massive bite of brownie didn’t drift me slowly up through layers of being high. It skyrocketed me into high space with great prejudice. I have no memory of a middle point, I wasn’t high and then I was suddenly so high I couldn’t function.

I’ve heard people talk about paranoia. I didn’t have that. Some people mention nervousness, no, none of that for me. My mind was simply gone. A thought would blip to life on one side of my brain and fail to travel through the fog to find its conclusion. I couldn’t think. I wasn’t really experiencing sensation. I was nothing in the void.

When Connor realized I’d been staring wall eyed at nothing for too long he said, “How are you doing?”

It took a long time to process the words and even longer to slur out, “I can see everything.”

I don’t remember him getting up and leaving, or waiting, or anything really. Thoughts flickered and died in my mindscape, meaningless and alone.

Then Connor put headphones on me.

I was unable to conceive of anything as wonderful as music surrounding me, and thus began the only nice part of the trip. I might have experienced ego death but at least I had the ethereal sounds of Pure Reason Revolution to wrap myself in.

I’m not sure how long the nice phase lasted. But eventually something started going wrong in my mouth. My throat became uncomfortable enough to pierce the haze I was in. It was almost numb, and impossibly dry. I drank water to no avail. Finally I conceived of the solution. “Ice cream!” I demanded of Connor.

He went to grab some and I was dismayed that when I took a bite the sensation in my throat intensified. “It made it worse,” I complained.

“Made what worse?” Connor asked, because of course I hadn’t actually told him why I’d wanted ice cream.

When I told him what was happening he said, “Oh, of course ice cream is going to make cotton mouth worse.”

“Well then why did you give it to me!” I complained. He smiled fondly at my irrational grumping and got me more water.

Finally I’d had enough. Music couldn’t erase my discomfort, I was getting frustrated I couldn’t think but I was still high as balls and I wanted the night to be over. Connor suggested I go to bed so I climbed up into my bed and lay there, uncomfortably high.

I couldn’t sleep. My throat was so cottony, a side effect I hadn’t known existed and I thoroughly loathed.

Then I thought: I could masturbate! Connor had talked about enjoying that while high. I’d give it a shot. My body however was wiser than my head and was having none of this plan. It refused to respond, stubbornly insisting that now was not the time.

I doubled down, refusing to give up on this horrible idea and in a bitter struggle, and against my body’s own wishes, I produced an orgasm that rated a 0 on the pleasure scale. Something happened but it was like a resentful flex of muscles that stopped immediately.

Furious with the overall experience of being high I buried my head in pillows and finally slept. I told Connor the next day about my attempt and he facepalmed so hard. “Why didn’t you just go to sleep! You were way too high to enjoy that.”

I grumbled and agreed that it was very stupid. I tried to weigh the single bite of brownie I had with the absolutely wretched hours of discomfort and while it didn’t quite balance it was still pretty close. It was a really good brownie.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#387

“Hey Michael, do we really need to go through all this? You know why you are here, right?… Yeah you are here to be an intern, but did your dad tell you what you would be doing?… Jesus! He didn’t! Well shit! I’m just going to be blunt; there’s no reason to be coy here….

“Do you recognize me?… We met a few years ago at the company Fourth of July picnic. Yeah, I’m the Chief Security Officer of the company your dad works for. When your dad was in my office, going over this very last-minute two-week business trip to Vegas, he was saying that he was worried about you being alone for all that time. I reminded him that you are of age and should be responsible to be alone. He started going on and on that he was worried about you getting in with the wrong crowd. I laughed and said you spend most of your afternoons in the back theater of Ruby’s bookstore taking dick after dick and that the wrong crowd would be all the tradies who work the docks.

“Ha ha. If your dad didn’t know you were a sperm burper, he does now. The panicked look on your face says that you didn’t tell him. Oh well not my problem. He didn’t seem too phased by it though.

“A bit later we were talking about the expansion of our sites in Amsterdam and Munich. He started dropping hints that he wanted a promotion. I started to laugh. I told him that the Executive team, especially the CEO, Bryce Mullins, doesn’t think he’s upper management material. Your dad asked what he could do to change Bryce’s mind. I told him point blank, ‘Offer Bryce your son to fuck.’

“Oh yeah, we were talking about you. I bet he didn’t tell you all that when he said you that you could get an internship with us, now did he?… I didn’t think so. Yeah, if your dad allowed the CEO of the company to breed your cute little ass, he might just get that promotion and raise.

“And it’s not just Bryce, but me too…. What? You think I would conduct an interview for a legitimate intern at my private residence wearing a pair of swimming trunks?… Seriously, you would think that? Bryce and I go back decades to when we were both in the Corps. We would pick up a faggot like you just off base and take him to our motel room and fuck that cunt good. After the Corps, we met Ben Tutwiler who shares our affinity of using and abusing boys like you. The three of us formed this company. He’s the Chief Operating Officer, and he’s going to fuck you this week as well. Although, it will probably just a few times. He’s grown closer to his own faggot.

“Yeah, our company is founded by three fag fuckers. About five or six years ago we brought on our fourth fag fucking executive, our Chief Financial Officer Gary Roberts. Now you probably don’t realize this, but he’s already fucked you a few times. He’s a frequent patron of the same Ruby’s bookstore as you. How do you think we first heard about you being a cum dump whore? In case you were wondering, he’s the one who holds you head firmly in place while he instructs the men to back their asses onto your tongue.

“…Oh that got a smile out of you. You know who he is, hunh? Good. The four of us have specific tastes in our faggots. And each one of us will… interview you.

“We start now. Get naked faggot.

“…You can instantly follow orders. That’s good. Should you get hired as our intern, you won’t be wearing much around here. Come to think about it, you won’t have many possessions.

“Hell, like any other intern you work for free. Don’t worry, we’ll pay off your debts, which isn’t much.

“Nice body. You shaved? That’s a bonus. You will be kept hairless; Bryce will insist on it. Nice ass. Bend over and show me your cunt. Goddamned! You’re wearing a plug? I love it. Shit it out….

“Oh wait a moment, you’re loaded up! When was the last time you got fucked?… Lunchtime? At Ruby’s? How many loads are in you now? You don’t know!

“HA! I fucking love it. You come to what you think is a legitimate job interview, with your cunt loaded and plugged up. That’s fucking great. Take it out but clamp down. I want those loads to ferment in you a little longer…. Good. Good. That’s an interesting plug. It’s very stumpy. Perfect size for it to go in your mouth. You do realize that anything that comes out of your cunt should be cleaned off in your mouth? No, don’t lick it, just hold it in place.

“Follow me. Here let me give you something to look at, my ass. I may be fifty-nine, but my ass is still beefy like a 30-year-old who works out three hours a day. I don’t see you, but I know you are thinking about eating it. Don’t worry, like Gary, I love getting tongue fucked. You will be licking my shithole several times a day along with every other sweaty part of my body.

“OK. This pool house will be where you are going to be for the next couple weeks. I purchased this estate because of it. I put a lot of money into this space so that the four of us have a place to go to use faggots however and whenever we want. Mostly it will be you. Sometimes on game day, Ben will bring his boy over and both of you will serve and service us. It usually ends with a fuck fest of four on two.

“The two bedrooms are converted into a play space and a gym. You’ll sleep in the walk-in closet on a cot. The closet also doubles as a sling room when needed.

“Don’t be intimidated by all the sex furniture we have in here. Most of the time it goes unused, except for parties. The fuck bench is probably what you will spend most of your time on. Gary will definitely have you under the rimseat here or there’s another one in the bathroom. Ben will have you on the St. Andrew’s cross. That cupboard over there is nothing but various ropes, chains, leather restraints, plastic ties, rubber, and so on. If there’s a way to tie you up, Ben has it here.

“Speaking of which, here help me put these wrist and ankle cuffs on. You’ll have these on the entire time. It’ll make securing you into different positions easier. Ben likes to see them on the faggots we have here. He has had them on his boy for as long as they have been together. Here, let me put the padlocks on; we will be the ones to control when they come off…. Good. You’ll get to try them out on the St. Andrew’s cross over there.

“On your knees and lean forward. While Ben will like tie you down, Bryce likes to control you. This collar symbolizes that. When a faggot cunt is collared, it knows that it is not in charge, that it is owned, and that it is merely an object for real men to use. And that click of the lock now cements everything.

“I can see you are excited about this. Your pecker is leaking. You know what? So is mine. Look at it. I want you to beat off. This will be the first and last time you are cumming while here. So make it good. A pecker cage will be going on after you shoot.

“Then I’m gonna use your cum as my lube. Get your knees spread wide. Fuck this is beautiful. I have a faggot to play with for the next few weeks, maybe longer. Three of my best buds will share in your holes. You really have me leaking back here. I’m enjoying the view of your ass and back, thinking how good my arm would look going up your cunt.

“But I need to do this first. Hold your head still. This is a strap that will hold that plug in your mouth.

“Damn! That arm is going a mile a minute. Somehow let me know when you are close to cumming. I want to know the exact moment.

“Just think about your time here. You will be serving four men pretty much non-stop. Other men will be brought by. We may work you at the same time, but more often than not it’s done one-on-one.

“I want to fuck that cunt of yours, but I want your load first. So hurry the fuck up. My cock is ready to explode.

“From you grunts, you about to cum?… Good. Remember to collect it in your hand. I want you to cum on the count of five. One… Two… Three… Get ready. Four… And FIVE! Shoot!

“…Ha Ha Ha! You weren’t expecting that ball kick from behind, were ya? You faggots never do. Did you get any cum in your hand?… No? That sucks for you.

“What’s wrong? Your neck? Ohhhh. I forgot to mention. That collar is wired up. We can deliver painful shocks to you at any time. In case you were wondering, the shock was probably delivered by Bryce who is also in Vegas. This place is wired up with over one hundred cameras with microphones. Like any one of us, he has the ability of watching and probably was. I’m surprised he hasn’t said anything; the speaker system can broadcast orders to you, from anywhere in the world, and from any one of us.

“Roll over on your stomach and get your ass up in the air. I don’t give a shit that you are in pain from my ball kick and a shock from your collar. I want your cunt. You know what? I need a spreader bar first…. This one will do.

“I have nearly forty years in security and surveillance. There are sensors all over my property. You are to stay here or the pool area unless I give you permission. The collar will not allow you to go any further than this building, the pool, and the sauna hut. Oh, and that collar is waterproof. When I need you up in the main building, I’ll have the sensors turned off for that area.

“Monitoring faggots is so easy these days. I have been surveilling you for the past couple of months. Oh yeah, I know everywhere you went since Gary first connected with a bookstore cum dump whore, one that just happened to be the son of one of our employees. I ran a full background on you. I was able to hack into your phone, and I observed. I know the older men you try to connect with on Grindr and Scruff. I see the porn you watch. And you watch a lot of daddy porn, cruising porn, gang bang porn, ass eating porn, and so on.

“I know where you go. You hit the bookstore at lunchtime on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. On Fridays you stay back there to hit the after-work crowd. On Mondays and Wednesdays, on your way back from your community college, you hit the rest area.

“During this time, I did an extensive background check on your dad just as I did on you. Your dad has some issues with workplace security that are being addressed today by Bryce in Vegas. Trust me, your dad will not interfere in your internship. This was all planned, faggot. Every moment you thought you had a choice, we chose it for you.

“Now the spreader bar is in place set to painfully wide. Since you didn’t catch your load, I’m going in dry.

“With your wrists clipped behind your back, you aren’t going anywhere.

“Are you crying? You are. And you look panicked! Feel like you have no control over anything? Good!

“Fuck it’s not going to take me long to cum. I’m ready to burst.

“Jesus! You are loose! And sloppy! The cum stew feels good. Oh man.

“Not going to take long at all…. Oh faggot, you are made to be a cum dump faggot whore. This cunt belongs to me.

“Get ready. Get ready. Here I cum. Fuck! Fuck! Fuuuuccccckkkkk!

“Shit! That was good. You got my load added to the cum stew you’re brewing.

“Your gaping hole could be tightened up. Clamp down on me…. That’s it? We’ll need to start cunt training on you. Get those pussy muscles back to providing pleasure.

“Hold still. I got to piss…. Oh man. Does this feel good. It feels right. You are a natural toilet. Gary said he pissed down your throat a few times. Toilet service will be expected of you. Mostly Gary and I are into it, but Bryce and Ben will use your mouth on game day.

“I’m gonna pull out. You need to keep this slop in you. Clamp down. It’s going to be tough, but do not spill one single drop. You do, you will regret disobeying me.

“You are a sight. I’m gonna lift up the spreader bar to the motorized pulley. Suspended upside down should keep that sludge in. The butt plug gag needs to come out. My cock needs to be cleaned off, and your mouth is at the right height.

“That’s it. Swirl your tongue around. Just like that. Faggot, you’re going to do fine here.

“Ok. I got to do some paperwork in the main house. I’ll be back in a while. If you need to be let down, respectfully call out. If one of us is watching you, we can let you down remotely.”

This story continues in Story #389, Story #394, and Story #400

[luvsickhanji]

if han jisung were your boyfriend - hc

note: this is just a small headcanon of how i imagine han jisung as a boyfriend, it's my first post, so i would appreciate your thoughts and feedback!

genre: smut, kinda fluffy

warnings: mentions of: oral receiving (f), pet names, creampie, switch!jisung and maybe a perv!jisung if you squint... f!reader

wc: 659

clique aqui para a versão em português

⭑

first of all, you guys met at a coffee shop, or maybe you were childhood friends who ended up falling in love at one point in your life

you started dating after many attempts at a perfect date - jisung seems like the type of person who tries his best to do his best, and for him, your relationship wasn't any different. you went to the movies, went out to dinner, went to a park amusement, but at the end, you both were too shy to say "i like you" to each other and ended up waiting for the other to say it first

but he asked you to be his girlfriend when you least expected it. nothing cheesy or lame, he just blurted out "hey, do you wanna date me?". you just knew that he was calculating the words on his mind, but he unconsciously chose the simplest.

(and this is your side of the story, things you superficially knew)

because he was obsessed with you all this time, since when he heard the barista call a oat milk latte and your name at that coffee shop. he shyly walked up to you to ask for your name and number. he asked about you, and spoke charming pick-up lines:

"hey, i saw you from afar and i couldn't take my eyes off you… you echo like a sports car in an empty tunnel, what's your name?"

since then, he couldn't stop stalking you on social media and hoping for you to respond to his messages asap

he thought you were really hot, and the more he got to know you, the more he wanted to be able to touch you. he felt like you had a reciprocal feeling, but he was afraid he was wrong about it. and that's why he waited until the 5th date to kiss you and ask you to be your boyfriend.

and it was that night that you took him to your apartment, and you had sex until the sun came up… and this started to be a custom in your relationship

when you and jisung have sex, it’s always all night. maybe it's the inconsolable longing he feels for your body, or it's your desire to have him inside you. the reason didn't matter after all, you guys were too addicted to each other to wonder why.

and your connection is so perfect, that whenever one of you comes up with a new idea, the other agrees immediately.

in my opinion jisung is fascinated by four things: cowgirl and your boobs, hips and thighs. he loves cowgirl because he loves worshiping you (and your breasts), when it's you in control, this man gets crazy, he gets loud and he gets out of orbit. and that's why most of the time he prefers to be on top, (he doesn't want to end it in less than 2 minutes).

"hey baby, let's try this position?"

"of course, hannie"

"ji, can i tie you up and try this?"

"absolutely baby, as long as i can touch you later" (he loves touching you, especially using his fingers)

when you guys don't see each other during the week, you text A LOT. every minute you're writing to each other, and it's no surprise that you have a dirty talk saying how much you miss each other and how you wish you were fucking right now. what a dirty mouth (fingers?) he has...

he is a praise guy. he loves giving you compliments and he also loves receiving them.. calling you princess, kitty, baby, honey, sweetheart... all of that pet names. he just in love for the girl that you are.

and to finish this quick introductory thought, jisung is the type of guy who loves giving oral, he loves eating pussy, your pussy (and he's the best doing it). plus you two came to a consensus that you both love creampie. nutting in you ends the night perfectly.

[ninzied]

and that's how it works

a co-worker au. based on the prompt: kiss out of spite. ~2.4k.

Alex can’t stand him from the start.

He tries not to actively dislike any co-workers, as a general rule. It takes effort, and time, neither of which he wants to spend on this guy—unless said work has been affected, which, Alex has to admit that it hasn’t.

But there’s something about him that rubs Alex the wrong way the moment they get introduced.

He’s hard-working, Alex supposes, and the quality of the work isn’t lacking. He’s punctual, and to-the-point in his emails. None of those things are an issue. He does make a habit of helping himself to Alex’s office supplies, but a few missing staples and running out of printer paper don’t exactly justify a grudge.

The guy’s personality is, objectively, annoying. He has the worst taste in ties, which to Alex says a lot, and he can’t go more than five minutes without alluding to his pedigree in some way (Alex knows this because he and Nora have made a drinking game out of it at work functions).

Still, it doesn’t explain the weird surge of resentment he gets every time he looks at the guy. And not understanding it might be the most annoying part of all.

He just wishes he knew why.

.

Alex works in the legal department, but the coffee’s way better in HR down the hall, so most mornings he’s using their break room. Most mornings, and at lunchtime too, and in the afternoons more than once until Nora starts cutting him off, which. Fair.

Apparently he’s not the only one who’s discovered HR’s superior coffee, though, because he’s always there too, and always at the same time as Alex. Seriously, can he not? It’s bad enough that they share a cubicle. Now Alex has to suffer the insult of watching him fucking microwave his coffee like some kind of sociopath, too?

“Are you following me?” Alex demands to know one morning, a little ridiculously. He’s aware that HR is not the best place to be throwing accusations around, but he’s kind of had it with this guy. “Because—”

At that exact moment, the door is opening, and Henry Fox is walking into the room.

“Oh, hey,” says Alex.

Henry glances at him the way he always does, that is to say, a little bemused as to what Alex is doing here. But Henry had been his point person when he was hired six months ago, so he must know Alex works here, right? Besides, he’s been coming to drink their coffee every day of those past six months now, and he knows Henry knows this because their breaks usually overlap and the way Henry barely says two words to him half the time is starting to feel kind of personal.

“It’s Alex,” says Alex, because, well, just in case.

“Yes, I’m aware,” says Henry. After a beat that’s long enough to get awkward, he says, “Err. Right then.”

And then he smiles and waves at Hunter, who isn’t even supposed to be here either, and walks over to take the seat Hunter has saved him like they’re all in fucking high school.

Hunter says something smarmy about a new art gallery or what-the-fuck-ever he went to last night, using a slightly too-loud voice that’s clearly meant to be overheard. Alex grits his teeth.

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to go,” says Henry. “What did you think?”

Alex scowls. Fuck, he fucking hates Hunter.

.

“So how’s the transfer going?” asks Hunter one day.

Alex jerks involuntarily and splashes hot coffee all over his hand. “Motherfucker,” he says, and then, because his filter is fully shot now anyway, he glances over at Henry. “You’re transferring? Like, jobs?”

“Oh. Um. No. Departments,” says Henry. Alex supposes that’s all he’s getting—four whole words must be some kind of record—but then Henry continues. “To editing. Starting first thing next week.”

“Oh,” says Alex. “Cool. That’s…a big move.” Literally. That’s, like, whole floors away. He opens the freezer door with his good hand, and wonders what the coffee tastes like up there in editing, if it would be weird to find out sometime. He grabs a fistful of ice.

“Yes,” Henry is saying. “It will be quite the change, and I—wait. Sorry.” He stands abruptly, and Alex stares in surprise as Henry comes over and stops right in front of him. “Please put the ice down.”

“Um,” says Alex. “O…kay?”

“You should use lukewarm water,” says Henry. “Cool, at best. For your hand.”

“Oh,” says Alex. “Right. Thanks.” He turns to the sink, feeling weirdly aware of the fact that Henry is still standing there. “It’s too bad,” Alex says before Henry can decide to sit down next to Hunter again. “Kind of a big loss for HR.”

Henry’s brows knit back together. “Is it?”

Alex shrugs. “To my knowledge, no one else personally escorts new employees to their cubicles on the first day of work. Like you did with Hunter here, for example.” He levels Henry with a grin. “I was there when you showed him around, in case you don’t remember.”

Henry’s expression is inscrutable. “I do,” he says.

Alex makes a point to not look away. “Guess that wasn’t a thing back when I started.”

“Ah,” says Henry. He’s flushing for some reason now. “No, I suppose not.”

Alex considers him. He can’t decide if Henry’s playing dumb, or if he really doesn’t remember that he’d been the one to help hire Alex. Then he decides he doesn’t care, because both options make him feel like something on the bottom of Hunter’s shoe, which he hates.

“Think I’m gonna head back.” Alex looks expectantly at Hunter, who only lifts his mug like he’s still planning on being a while. Fucking fine.

He can still see the two of them through the glass pane in the door when Nora walks by with a stack of folders.

“You okay?” she asks, in a tone that says she’s guessed the answer.

“Fucking no,” says Alex anyway. “What are they even doing? Talking?”

Nora sneaks a peek through the window. “Appears so,” she deadpans. “Talking in the break room. Unbelievable.”

“I know, right?” Alex scowls, then realizes he’s left without his coffee, which makes him scowl even harder.

Nora sighs, then slips her free arm through his. “Let’s walk.”

“Do you think Hunter likes him?” asks Alex. Because—not that he’s spent a lot of time on this—Alex thinks that Hunter does, and nothing is worse than the thought of Henry liking him back because he doesn’t know any better.

Maybe Alex should say something.

Nora is looking sideways at him. Alex isn’t sure why. “I think what Hunter likes is people with a pedigree,” she says. “Anyway, what’s not to like? Henry’s a snack.”

“What?” says Alex. Objectively, Henry looks a bit like an Adonis, but, “That is so beside the point. And just because Hunter’s like Harvard royalty or whatever doesn’t give him the right to come in here and trick people into liking him when—”

“When you were here first?” Nora supplies.

“What?” Now Nora is really missing the point. “This has nothing to do with me, or with Henry. I just meant, like, you know. In general.”

“Right,” says Nora. “I must have misunderstood.”

.

Alex keeps going back to the break room, of course. The coffee’s still better, and he can keep bothering Nora even though she’s transferring soon too (to marketing two floors down, the traitor). None of those things have changed just because Henry is no longer there every day.

The one thing that does change, Alex notices with a dark kind of satisfaction, is that Hunter does not go back to the break room. In fact, he starts bringing his own coffee each morning (Starbucks, which seems very on-brand). If anything, Alex only has more reason now to escape to HR and not spend any more time around Hunter than necessary.

About a week after Henry’s transfer, Alex realizes he’s used the last of the break room’s cinnamon. Again. Goddamn it, he thinks. He’s just spent the morning in back-to-back meetings, he’s getting his coffee hours later than usual, and now this?

He rifles through the cupboards for a second and then a third time just in case there's a rogue bottle somewhere. “Fuck me,” he mutters.

“What’s the occasion?” comes a voice from the door, and Alex turns to find Henry leaning against it. His arms are crossed, and he’s doing that chin-tilty thing that apparently means Alex has zero control over what comes out of his mouth.

“What are you doing here?” Alex blurts.

Henry raises an eyebrow. “I could’ve been asking you the same thing for the past six months or so, but I haven’t.” He uncrosses his arms and comes over. “Would you believe me if I said I came here for the coffee?”

“No,” says Alex, with absolute certainty. “You don’t drink coffee.”

Henry blinks. “I could,” he argues after a moment, then straightens a little. “In fact, maybe I planned to start today.”

“Uh huh.” Alex gestures for him to have at the machine. “Do you even know how to use it?”

“Can’t be that difficult,” says Henry. He gives the machine a dubious look, and Alex doesn’t mean to but he starts to laugh.

“Here, I got it. Was about to make some for myself anyway.”

“Ah.” Henry looks abashed suddenly. Even the tips of his ears have turned pink. “Suppose you’ll be wanting this, then.” He pulls a ground cinnamon bottle from his pants pocket.

Alex shakes his head in disbelief. He could actually kiss Henry right now. “How did you—?”

“Well, you were running low last I was here,” says Henry, like that’s a totally normal thing to have noticed when Alex has never seen him touch the spice rack once. “Figured you'd be out by now, so I nicked some from the break room upstairs. No one’s been using it there anyway.”

The shock on Alex’s face makes him backtrack. “Sorry,” he says, flushing an even deeper pink now. “I—didn’t know you’d be here. You’re usually, um. Earlier. I can return it, if you’d like.” He says all this in a rush.

“No, it’s great,” Alex says emphatically. “Don’t you dare take it back.” He’s still staring a little, but that can’t be helped. Henry knows how he likes his coffee. And Henry had planned to restock the cinnamon without Alex ever knowing.

Henry clears his throat, looking around them. “You didn’t bring Hunter with you today,” he notes.

“No,” says Alex immediately. “God, no. And I don’t bring him anywhere, he just. Shows up. Honestly, I can’t stand the guy.” Shit. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that.

“Oh, thank Christ,” Henry says, looking immensely relieved. “Now that I don’t work in HR anymore, can I just say how little I enjoy his company?”

This is way better news than when Henry had first reached out to Alex with his offer letter and starting salary. He grins. “You can. In fact, please say more.”

Henry looks rueful. “I really shouldn’t.”

“It’s just that—” Alex sobers a little. “He was the only person you seemed willing to talk to.”

“It was easier, for me.” Henry takes a breath. “I feel less shy around people whose opinion of me doesn’t matter as much.” He pauses, something meaningful in the way he looks sidelong at Alex now. “I do want to be better about it.”

Alex nods, considering this. He tries hard not to smile. Probably not hard enough. “I can work with that.”

.

“You do realize neither of you work in this department,” says Nora, pulling food from the fridge.

Henry sips the tea Alex has just made him. Coffee, turns out, had been a lost cause. They’re both leaning against the counter, elbows not-quite-touching but getting closer to it every day, by Alex’s estimation.

“Do any of us, at this point?” Henry muses.

Nora shrugs. “Fair.”

“Just don’t tell You Know Who,” says Alex.

“Who’s You Know Who?” Hunter asks from the doorway. He has a confused smile on his face as he looks from Henry to Alex back to Henry again. Normally the sight of Hunter fills Alex with the most profound irritation, but now he’s feeling kind of pleased.

That’s right, he thinks smugly at Hunter: Henry is mine.

Huh. Suddenly things make a lot more sense now.

“Hey, did you get my email about the museum opening this Friday?” Hunter asks Henry, and Alex bristles instantly. Did Hunter not get the look Alex just gave him?

“Ah,” says Henry awkwardly, and it would be endearing if he didn’t also look so deeply uncomfortable. His awkwardness now is so different from the bashful kind of awkward he used to be around Alex; honestly, Alex can’t believe he’d never been able to tell between the two until now. “Actually, I’m—”

“Going,” says Alex, “already. With me.”

Henry looks at him in happy surprise. “Really?”

“Really,” Alex says firmly. And then, because he likes how dumbstruck Hunter looks right now, and because Henry doesn’t pull away when Alex puts an arm around his shoulders and he really, really likes that too, he does the only thing left that makes sense to him, which is to lean in and kiss Henry. He kind of feels like he might die when Henry kisses him back.

Fuuuuuuck.

Henry’s eyes are still closed when Alex leans back. He’s dimly aware that Nora has shooed Hunter out and closed the door behind them. He’s more acutely aware of how Henry licks his lips, then opens his eyes with an oddly vulnerable expression and says, “Alex, please tell me you didn’t just kiss me for Hunter’s benefit.”

“What? No. I mean—not exactly.” Fuck. Why can’t he use only the words that he needs? “The answer’s still no, but I might’ve used it as an excuse if I’d kissed you like two weeks ago. But that’s not why I kissed you just now, and it’s not why I’m going to kiss you again.”

“Oh, you think you’re going to kiss me again, do you,” Henry says with a hint of a smile, lifting his chin in a kind of challenge that Alex does not intend to back away from.

“One-hundred-percent,” he says, then pauses. “Unless you plan on reporting me to HR.”

“Honestly,” says Henry, “I might have to report you if you don’t.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Alex says, very seriously, and he pulls Henry back in.

[sturniololoco]

hi i know you just did a sturniolo little sister fic but could you do one where she gets into a fight at school because someone was talking shit to her about her looks or something and she won the fight or whatever but she was in a lot of trouble and matt picked her up from school then like something sweet with everybody and maybe a little bit more with matt cause matt is like my comfort person ?

Fight

Sturniolo Little sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo Triplets

Warnings: blood, fighting, etc.

SLS’s POV

All I remember thinking was I’m about to beat this bitch up.

So that’s what I did.

Usually a wouldn’t let a dumb bitch calling me names bother me. But when she compared me to my famous triplet brothers, then called me names right after?

That set me off.

“I can tell the rest of the family got the good looking genes. Look at her then look at her brothers! No wonder she’s only in three of their YouTube videos!” A girl in the hallway said to a bunch of giggling girls.

I throw my books to the floor and walk over to her, breathing heavy. Most of her friends scurry away, shrieking dramatically, but two stay.

I get right up close to her face, pushing her into the lockers. At this point we had an audience.

“What the fuck is wrong you? You-“ I start to say, but then I’m being smacked with a 610 page biology text book, the corner hitting my eye, while the rest practically breaks my nose.

One of the girls stupid friends tried to help her. I stumbled back, turning away from the girl against the locker to see you hit me. The girl, who was now behind me, frantically ran into a nearby classroom.

“Oh you really shouldn’t have fucking done that.” I say, immediately pouncing on her and taking her to the floor.

She was helpless, trying to slap at my bloody and bruised face. I grabbed her hand and put them behind her back, pushing her head into the floor.

I was about to tell her who the fuck she was messing with, when all of the sudden, arms were around my waist pulling me of the girl.

I look up to see Mr. Howard, my Chemistry teacher, who also happens to be the varsity football coach.

“Get to the office Sturniolo! No detors!” He barked at me, letting me go. I kicked my books while walking down the hallway to the office, yelling,

“She’s the one who fucking started it!” And I stick my middle finger up, not even bothering to look back at the girl, crying on the floor, worried about her skirt that I got my blood on.

-

“SLS/N, I know you’re a good kid. You’re on the all A’s honor roll, you’ve never gotten detention, and you’ve never been sent here before this. What happened that got you so upset?” My principal asked me as I sat across from him.

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” I mumbled, chewing my nails because I knew how much trouble I was in.

“Then I’m afraid I’m going to have to suspend you for three days and call your brother to come pick you up.” He said, giving me a sad but knowing look.

“Fine, but I’d call mat if I was you. He’s the only one who can drive.” I say, picking up my stuff and walking straight out of his office to wait for my brother.

-

Matt walked in, looking upset and down cast, but when he saw my bloody nose and black eye, his face contorted into a look of complete shock. I didn’t stand up.

He signed me out and quietly thanked the lady at the front desk. He then walked over and needed in front of me. I averted his eyes as I felt the tears stabbing at my own. He must have noticed because he said,

“Hey it’s okay kiddo, we’ll talk later.” He the stood, slung my back pack over his shoulder and grabbed my hand as we made our way to the car.

-

The car ride was pretty quiet, except for my occasional sniffles as the pain from my nose and eye began to set in. I didn’t realize where we were until Matt pulled into the Mcdonalds parking lot and put the car in park.

He got out of the car and rationed me to follow him, as he walked towards the front door. As he held the door open for me, I pulled my hood up, to cover my bloody face.

Matt went up and ordered while I got us a booth all the way in the back, and pulled out my phone.

12 Snapchat notifications and 16 text. All about the fight. I put my phone down and tried to stop the tears threatening to spill, when Matt came back with two chocolate milkshakes and two large fries.

He sat across from me and we began eating, but I still averted eye contact.

“Look at me SLS/N.”

I looked up and he gave me a sad smile.

“you know we have to talk about it, so we might as well get it over with.”

I sighed and began telling him the story. About how the girls at school would always compare me to my brothers and call me ugly names.

“It just gets really hard sometimes when you feel like you have strict expectations to live up to, ya know?” I say, some of my tear slipping to make streaks of blood down my face.

“hey I completely understand. I know what it’s like to be compared to Nick and Chris. It’s the only way people could ever tell us apart!” He says earning a small chuckle from me.

“you just need to learn not to get to fired up about it, and just know that people will be mean, but they don’t know the real you, and how perfect you are. No one compares to you because everyone’s unique. And I am so proud to have you as a sister, and so are Nick and Chris.”

I nod, knowing I wouldn’t be able to talk without sobbing.

“And speaking of Nick and Chris, I haven’t told them yet. But If you want, I can talk to them instead of you having to explain everything again. Sound like a plan?” He says.

I nod again, thankful that I wouldn’t have to go through this again.

-

We pulled into the drive way, and before I opened the car door to go inside, I had to take a deep calming breath, knowing I’ll be walking into a dozen questions.

“Hey, you got this kiddo!” Matt says grabbing and squeezing my hand lightly, before walking up and opening the front door.

-

As soon as I step foot into the kitchen, Nick is all over me.

“Oh my fuck, SLS/N! What the fuck happened?” He yelled, picking me up and sitting me in the island, then sprinting to the bathroom for a wash cloth.

“I beat a bitch up.” I say plainly, earning a laugh from Matt. Chris comes up to me and gives me a fist bump.

“Damn sis, you look tough!” He says ruffling my hair. I giggle.

“Christopher!” I hear Nick scold as he walks back in the room. Chris puts his hands up in mock defense.

Nick gently wipes most of the blood off my face, the gives me a sock filled with ice to put on my eye and nose, which were now purple.

“Okay, now spill. What the fuck happened?” Nick says. I look at Matt, who quickly stands from the couch and says,

“Actually Nick, come in here, I need to talk to you and Chris for a sec. Why don’t you go hop in the shower bud.” Mat says.

I give him a quiet okay and hop off the counter and head to the bathroom, taking my ice-sock with me.

-

Getting all that blood off my face and out of my hair felt so good, no matter how dark blue, green, and purple my nose was. I threw on a pair of sweats and one of Chris’s Fresh Love hoodies, before walking down stairs and to the living room.

Matt, Nick, and Chris were all sitting on the couch, getting ready to watch a show.

Matt motions me over to sit with him, so I grab a new sock of ice, a blanket from the basket and snuggle up with him.

“I think I could get used to this for the next three days.” I joke, snuggling close into Matt’s chest. He chuckles and rubs my back comfortably.

I slowly feel myself driving off, due to the long days events, but not before I hear my brother let out a soft,

“I love you kiddo.”

I hope this is what you were asking for! ❤️

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (17)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Characters: Natasha Romanoff, Jake Jensen

Warnings: established Stucky, caring mobsters, pregnant reader, fluff, implied needy reader and Bucky, candy theft, polyamory

Indecent Proposal (16)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

Two months after Bucky and Steve found out about Rumlow’s plan to get information about them using the nurse, said man disappeared.  

No one cared about Brock Rumlow's disappearance. One day, he left town and never got seen again.

People may think Steve and Bucky took care of the annoying thorn in their flesh, but the truth is that they didn’t touch one hair on his head.

“Still nothing?” Bucky watches Natasha stuff the money he brought to her into her bag. Another good investment for the mobster, money for her retirement to Natasha. “Be honest, Nat. Did you take care of him?”

“I told Rumlow that his little stunt with the nurse went too far. He had the order to stay away from your…” she wrinkles her forehead still not understanding your relationship with the mobsters. “Fiancé.”

“We didn’t kill him,” Steve pushes off the wall to look at the pictures on Natasha’s desk. “Even though, we planned on taking him down. Rumlow had it coming.”

Natasha frowns deeply. “If none of us took him down… What happened to him? This doesn’t make sense at all.”

“What if he fucked with the wrong people over?” Bucky scratches his scruffy chin, wondering if the man obsessed with him and Steve annoyed the wrong person. “We can’t be the only people he messed with.”

“I don’t know,” Natasha sighs and rubs her tired eyes. “He’s a good cop.” She rolls her eyes when Steve makes a retching noise. “Believe it or not, he’s not a complete psycho. Rumlow is good at his job. I don’t know what you did to make him lose his mind.”

“We did shit to your little buddy,” Steve grunts. “If someone made him disappear, I owe him one. This way, I didn’t have to get my hands dirty.”

“This must be very funny to you, Rogers,” Natasha wrinkles her nose. “He was a good man and a good cop. It’s too bad he got lost in your web.”

“We didn’t lure him in,” Bucky snaps at Natasha. He glares at her, making sure she knows they did come here to chat. “One day your friend decided he must bring me and Steve down. Does he even know that we maintain peace? No one dares to harm citizens since we took over the throne.”

“I get it,” she huffs. “You are the kings of your kingdom of shit.”

“Careful—” Steve snarls at the redhead. “Our fathers build this kingdom with blood and terror,” the blonde steps closer to Natasha, sizing her up. “Bucky and I changed the old ways. We took their empire and changed it for the better.”

“What do we do about Rumlow now? If he’s dead, people will start asking questions. It’s no secret that he was obsessed with us.”

“I will try to keep you out of this,” Natasha steps away from Steve. She doesn’t want to rile him up even more. 

“You’ll keep us up to date,” Steve points his index finger at the redhead. “We need to know every detail of his disappearance…”

“Doll, what are you doing,” Steve laughs. You threatened to cut Bucky’s cock off because he dared to steal a chocolate bar from your secret stash. 

“He stole from me!” You pout. “Bucky stole my favorite chocolate bar. It was the last one with hazelnut.” Faking a sob, you look at Steve. “You should scold him.”

“I was hungry after you wanted a taste of Bucky,” the brunette grins. “And you got a whole drawer filled with the sweets. Candies, chocolate bars, all the good stuff. Steve, she’s got a sweet tooth.”

“Not only a sweet tooth,” Steve smirks. “She’s a naughty little minx too.”

“Hey! I’m not little,” you kneel on the bed to glare at Steve. Not months ago, you trembled in fear in front of Steve, and now you talk back and tease the mobster. “You better watch your tongue, or I won’t show you the latest ultrasound picture!”

Bucky watches you and his husband bicker. He smirks and chuckles. The brunette leans back and enjoys the show. “Steve, she’s getting cocky. What will you do about it?”

Steve cocks a brow. His features darken and he smirks at you. “I will spank her cute ass if she gets even cockier.”

You laugh at Steve’s words. He wouldn’t dare put his hands on you. Both men are deadly and strong, but with you, they are soft and gentle. Even if you are a brat and a needy slut sometimes.

“The doctor will be here in half an hour,” Bucky stretches his legs and yawns. It was a long day. Jensen and Bucky tried to find out more about Rumlow’s disappearance over the last hours. “Let’s not fight over stolen candy.”

“I did not forget you stole from my stash, punk!” You poke your index finger into Bucky’s thigh. “You are on thin ice, Sir.”

“Sir, huh?” Bucky licks his lips. “Steve, how long until the doctor arrives.” He looks at his husband.

“Buck. No,” Steve shakes his head. “Last time the doctor almost caught us red-handed.”

“Hmmm…good times,” you nod and sigh dreamily. “Very good times.”

“Your fiancé is healthy,” the doctor murmurs while scribbling down a few notes, “everything looks good. There is nothing to be worried about.” He looks up from his notes. “We should talk about the results of the ultrasound we took today now.”

He clears his throat and looks at you. The elderly man gives you a soft smile. “Can I tell them?”

The doctor chuckles now. “Of course, my dear.”

“Alright,” you clap your hands before grinning at Steve. “I will blow your mind.”

“Please tell me she’s not pregnant with a Tasmanian devil,” Steve mirrors your smirk. “I bet she is. It would explain her bratty behavior.”

“Stevie, let Y/N talk. I wanna know what she wants to talk about,” Bucky grabs your hand. Anytime you have an ultrasound examination he turns into a softie. “Go ahead doll. We are listening.”

You take a deep breath. Suddenly you’re a little nervous. “I-doctor can you tell them?” You chicken out and drop your gaze.

“Fuck! Is something wrong with the baby?” Steve presses one hand to his heart. “Please tell us.”

“Doll…” Bucky holds your hand a little tighter. The usual tough man looks helplessly at his husband. “Stevie?”

“The baby and your fiancé are healthy,” the doctor hastily says. “We got no bad news for you. It’s rather, good news for you and your fiancé, gentlemen.”

“Good news,” Bucky nods at Steve. “Did you hear…good news. Phew.” He sighs deeply. “Thank fuck.”

“What is the good news?” Steve rumbles. He stares at your swollen belly, awaiting an answer. “Doctor?”

You take a deep breath and look at both men. You don’t know if the news is good to them or not. “We—we are having twins!”

Part 17.2

[catsfor2]

hit me, part 2

wc: 2.5k, largely unedited warnings: swearing/language, talk of homophobia, physical injury a/n: omg hey. this part takes place directly after part 1. things are starting to happen...!also idk shit about shit so don't come at me for the medical stuff if its wrong :) tags: @elliewilliamsmunch@intrnetdoll@me-and-your-husbandur-husband@3zae-zae3@milahnoz@elliescumm@dragonasflowercrown

part 1

part 1.5

"So...where are we going?"

"It's a clearing. In the woods." Ellie's hands lazily slide around the steering wheel as she speaks. You could daydream while staring at Ellie for hours. It's relaxing to watch her drive.

"Hm. Are you gonna...kill me there? Or something?" You joke.

"Still deciding."

"Oh my—are you seriously still mad?"

She says nothing, pretending to be engaged with driving.

You let out an irked breath.

"Okay—Ellie, I'm sorry. I was wasted out of my mind. And you look really different. Like, not just in your face. Everywhere is different." You confess, fiddling with the stickers peeling off of her dashboard.

"So do you. I still managed to fuckin' figure it out."

"I—I think I almost did? I remember looking at you and feeling really—confused, mostly. I didn't understand why I liked this stranger so much." You say, vaguely remembering how clingy and overt you acted last night.

"You were confused? I was fucking confused," her head swivels to yours. "a lesbian? That's what you are now?"

"Don't—don't say it like that. I came out like everyone else. You just weren't there to hear it."

Ellie lets out a choked laugh.

"Oh, Bullshit."

"Excuse me?"

"I wrote you and called you for fucking months. Nothing. A letter a fucking day. Are you listening? Do you know how many letters that is?"

You stay silent. Your hands ball up where they rest on your lap.

"Fuckin' say something! I even asked Dina for your number but you cut her off too! Is there a reason you basically fucking died?"

"I wasn't home, Ellie."

She stills, her shoulders relaxing a touch. She adjusts back towards the road before clearing her throat.

"At...at sixteen? What happened?"

You recall you, sixteen, sobbing and frantic. Tearing apart the letter Ellie wrote to tell you that she left. Wondering why it felt more like a breakup then your actual one did. Cursing yourself over and over and over again for only being sixteen. Your parents cursing Ellie for corrupting you.

"I feel like you can connect the dots." Your voice is just barely loud enough to hear over the droning tone of the car. The only focus you had at this point was trying not to cry in front of Ellie.

"Oh, fuck, y/n. I'm—I'm sorry. Did those fuckers kick you out?"

"No," you sigh. "I just knew I had leave. They're...crazy. I don't know. I'm fine now."

Her knuckles flex and tense over the steering wheel. Her teeth start to bite at her lips. There's a couple more seconds of quiet before she speaks up.

"I wish I would've been there."

You pause, not totally expecting what she said.

"Yeah," you breathe, gazing at the side of her head. "I wished that too."

And that wasn't a lie. Your family instilled a lot on you, mostly turning you away from religion. But then? You were desperate. Painfully, achingly desperate. And completely alone. After you left home, you prayed every single night. A genuine prayer, on your knees and everything. You even bought a $1.50 pocket bible from goodwill. All to aide in your bedtime routine of begging God to make Ellie come back.

She never did. You've been an atheist ever since. You weren't sure if her being here now changed anything.

The silence marinates for a short while longer until you feel the rocky texture of a gravel road beneath the car.

"We're here," Ellie states, throwing the gear in park. She takes a glance at your feet. "and you should've worn better shoes. We have walking to do."

You both hop out of the car.

"Like you couldn't have told me before we left?" You scoff.

"It's more fun to fuck with you later. C'mon," she grabs your hand, tightly clutching it in hers. "there's coyotes and shit around here. Don't be fuckin' stupid and stay close."

You try to will the warmth away from your cheeks. You've never held Ellie's hand before. Even if this doesn't really count as holding.

"Yeah, got it." You force out.

She leads you into the trees, hand warmly on yours, briskly following a mental path she's clearly walked many times.

"I almost got arrested over here," She sighs, far too casually.

"What?!"

"Damn—I said almost, chill." She assures, laughing at your shock.

You lightly slap her shoulder.

"I don't care! Almost getting arrested is still crazy!" You chide, eyes wide and judgmental.

Ellie's always been pretty...rebellious, but a part of you always thought that she'd be smart enough to avoid anything truly consequential. I guess she still is, you think.

"Lemme explain, ok. I was high as fuck, minding my business, when I saw some kids shootin'—a wolf, I think? Maybe a coyote—I saw them just...fuckin' up this poor thing with a—a BB gun."

"Oh my god..." You say, "What did you do?"

"I didn't do shit at first—I thought they'd stop. But they were like—about to kill this thing, I swear to God. So, I...ha..." Her face breaks into a wide smile. "you're not gonna like this,"

"...What. Not gonna like what."

"I pulled my gun on 'em."

"Ellie!"

"It wasn't even loaded, y'know I like to have it with me just in case..."

"They're kids!—"

"Asshole kids. Ok? And it fuckin' worked so—"

"I thought you said you almost got arrested?"

"Jesus—I did. You keep interrupting me—"

"Sorry." You quip, also realizing you just interrupted her with your apology.

"It's—it's fine. Anyway, those fucks called the cops on me after they ran. I found out cause the fuckin' pigs stopped me and asked if I'd seen an 'armed gunman in the area,'" She says, imitating a deep 'cop' voice. "dumbasses had no clue it was me."

You watch as she laughs, amused at her own story. Suddenly, your foot gets caught under a thick root and your arms fly out in an instant.

Ellie's hands hit your shoulders, grasping them upright, causing you to sharply crash into her chest.

"Oh—shit, sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going." You gasp out, trying to regain your balance while loosening your grip on Ellie's coat.

"No, it's those fuckin' shoes," she rebukes, hands still resting on your shoulders. She immediately takes them off you when she notices. "we're almost there anyway. Try not to kill yourself before then."

Your hand burns at your side, palm itching. Is she going to grab it again?

"Where's 'there'?" You ask, glancing around at the wall of trees and shrubbery encircling you both.

"You'll see. Just stay close." She repeats like before, clutching your hand once again.

You tighten your grip, wanting to show Ellie you're listening.

"Good. Let's move."

The two of you walk for about a mile or so more, before the view steals your eyes and you both freeze.

"Oh—wow, Ellie. This is really pretty," you breathe, entranced by the piercingly vibrant colors and towering mountainous structures.

Her head is turned toward you, taking in your reaction to the sight, instead of the sight itself.

She's must've seen it so many times, you think.

"Yeah, you like it? I knew you would." She tells you, unable to keep the satisfied grin from her face.

"Shut up. I'm still mad you didn't even let me get ready this morning."

"There's nobody here. Who're you fuckin' getting ready for?" She barks, arms wide and gesturing.

I still wanted to get ready for you, Ellie. But obviously you don't say that.

"Whatever. You just did it to be a dick." You mutter, plopping yourself down onto the boulder in front of you.

"Yeah, I did. It's funny when you're mad. You're like a cat." She laughs, sitting down next to you.

"That's toxic. You shouldn't make people mad just cause you find it funny." You chide, crossing your legs over the rock.

"Guess I'm toxic, then." She sighs, carelessly throwing pebbles at your head.

"Was that the plan? Sit on a rock and be mean to me?"

"Truly adorable that you think this is mean—"

"Well it's not nice, that's for sure." You huff.

Ellie shifts so that her body faces yours. Her legs spread out wide, elbows comfortably resting on her thighs.

"I don't think you want me to be nice to you."

Your mouth parts open in surprise, eyes now burning into Ellie's.

"Well that's a lie. I'd love for you to be nice—"

"I think you like when I'm mean to you. I think you...prefer it, actually." She juts, a confident smile forming.

"Yeah, and who told you that, Dina?" You question, crossing your arms as a breeze starts to make you shiver.

"Nobody told me anything." her head quirks to the side. "I can just tell."

It was difficult to keep your composure. There were some things Ellie seemed to know about you that you didn't even know yourself. It was terrifying, embarrassing, and flattering all at once. Your face feels like its melting. You stay silent.

"Oh—am I right? I've totally got you, haven't I?" She asks, enjoying fully the power she seems to have over you and your emotions.

"No." You bite, unwilling to try and say anything else.

You hated how often Ellie was right.

She takes a ball of black fabric from her pocket, tossing it in your lap. It's a hat.

"Put it on. It's cold."

A swarm of bats fly over the both of you, chaotic and eruptive.

"It's gonna be dark, Ellie."

"I know, I know. I was, uh—saving the best for last." She quips, hopping off of the rock to stand in front of you.

It felt kind of awkward this way, Ellie fully standing while you sat. You had to look straight up to meet her eyes. It put your head in whirl.

"What, the tattoo? I saw that already."

"No. Something else," She grabs your hand and places it on the bottom hem of her top. Your heart beats a little faster.

"Lift up my shirt."

Your eyes widen as your hand fidgets. You wait for her to keep talking. She doesn't.

"Um...like all the way?" You struggle to find words. "Or—"

"Lift up," her hand grasps yours, guiding it up. "my shirt."

Fabric shifts and the pale flesh of her abdomen comes into view. Her belly is lean—all hard edges and dense muscle. What catches your eye is the long, winding, angry scar tracing along her hip.

Your brain goes into overdrive.

Traumatic injury, surgery needed... most likely...flexor or... IT band tendonitis? Maybe, what, Bursitis? Something...invasive—a tear? Labral tear? Iliopsoas tear? What the fuck was she doing?

"Street fighting." She states. "It's my job."

Your face is blank. You shakily stand.

"Uhhh—you, you better be fucking with me, Ellie." You stutter out. Unconsciously, you move to trace your finger along the scar, feeling the warped, healed skin. "I mean this is...this is serious. This is...surgery."

"Don't I fuckin' know it," she moves her shirt back down, covering the scar. "took me out of the ring for like, eight weeks."

"Jesus—Jesus Christ. How long have you been doing this!?"

"Not much longer than you've been in school, really."

"So, not long. Is what you're saying." your fingers rake through your hair. "This is...this is fucking crazy."

"It's not that—"

"Dina's okay with this? Really. I really don't see how she could be okay with this, like, at all." You argue, cutting her off.

"She wasn't. I had to convince her."

"And how often do you go to the doctor? Once a week? Or do you pretend like you know how to patch yourself up?"

Her face slightly reddens.

"I—I learned how to do it myself. I know how."

"Oh sure. Did you google it? I'm sure google will save you from a life threatening injury."

"Ok, most of them are not 'life threatening'—"

"You don't know that! Not certainly, at least! Not certain enough to be safe!" You exclaim, voice full of anger, but mostly, fear.

She places a hand on your shoulder, gripping it tightly. She doesn't talk until you meet her eyes.

"Hey. I am fine. The hip thing was a fluke. Honest. Most of the time nothing fuckin' happens." She assures, her other hand rubbing up and down your arm. You must've looked more upset than you'd realized.

"Ok."

"Just, 'ok'? Are we...good now?" Ellie asks, blue eyes still deeply connected to yours.

"Um...yeah..." You say, partly hesitating. Ellie watches you closely.

"I wanna go with you."

Her face lights up in...shock?, you think, a pleased grin shaping her mouth.

"What—really?"

"If you really want to do...this," you bite your lip. "being there is what would make me feel...better...about it."

"Yeah? That's...I mean, I think that's great," She says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "my own cheerleader."

You step backwards, letting Ellie's hands slide away from your body.

"No, not a cheerleader. A fucking medic. So I'm not sitting home worried about you—dying. I can just be there to help if stuff goes wrong."

"I'm happy either way, princess." She gleams.

As the sun sets, it gets harder to make out the shape of her face. The woods are also quieter, amplifying the subtle sounds of you and Ellie. You wonder about the details of your plan.

"Do I have to pay to get in? How does this...work?"

"No, you're set. Pretty girls get in free—it's a club rule. Y'know, good for business and everything."

You thank the sky for it's darkness, as Ellie is unable to see the rosy hue reaching your cheeks.

"Oh. Okay...good to know."

Ellie steps up, and now familiarly, encloses your hand in hers.

"C'mon. It's too fuckin' dark to stay any longer."

You walk out of the clearing, back into the dense foliage of where you came. Your grip tightens.

"So...have you had girlfriend?" Ellie blurts.

"Um, weird question, but," you look away. "no."

"Just...trying to gauge how good of a lesbian you are. Pretty bad, it seems."

"Oh, fuck off. I've been focusing on...school." You retort, fully knowing how lame it sounds.

If you were being honest, it was just nerves. You didn't have to try for a boyfriend, he basically wouldn't even take 'no' for an answer. But with girls? It was like you froze.

"Hey I'd give you some tips but...I don't think they'd really...apply for you, y'know?"

"No, I don't know. Explain it." You demand.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm trying think of a way where it makes...sense. And won't make you mad."

"I won't get mad Ellie. Just say it." You encourage, now more curious than anything.

She stops walking and turns to you.

"Well, it's like...the roles. The roles you can have."

"What...roles...?"

She huffs a laugh before continuing, and positions her hand to point to herself.

"I'm the type that flusters the girl. The...fluster-er, right?"

She walks forwards, getting so close that you can smell the scents of the forest soaked up in her clothing.

"And you," She says, her finger poking your collarbone. "...are the girl that...is flustered. It's a...a dynamic, yeah?"

Your skin heats and all you can do is gaze at Ellie, who's completely enthused with this discussion. She stays quiet, watching your face intently, despite it being so dark.

"You're making stuff up again. I don't even—I don't even know why I let you talk." You utter.

"See? You're doing it already! It's the fuckin' dynamic princess—you know I'm never wrong." She gushes, pinching at your checks and making them even redder.

"This so stupid. And don't call me that."

It was like the world stopped. As soon as you said it, you could see Ellie's brain distinctly remembering you, in that whiny drunken voice, begging. You won't ever forget it. And neither will Ellie, for completely different reasons.

You knew exactly what she was going to say, so you try and stop her.

"Don't. I don't care what I did yesterday. Just—don't."

She sighs, clearly dropping it. Thank god. Her teeth bite the inside of her cheek.

"Whatever you say, princess."

You don't even acknowledge it, just rolling your eyes as you walk ahead. Stray branches brush over your legs and thighs, feeling like gentle scratches. You slow a bit, waiting for Ellie to join you.

And hold your hand again.

Stepping ahead of you to lead, Ellie does just that. The warmth makes you smile, and you let it own your face, bright and wide. You didn't care. It was dark enough.

"Alright. Stay close."

"I know, Ellie."

[zepskies]

Hey! I was wondering if the requests are still open? I’m so obsessed with BMD💗✨ I was wonder how Ben would react to his gf having cramps during her moon cycle✨

Tysm for sharing these awesome stories with us hun🫂💗✨Hope you’re healthy and happy💃🏻❤️

Hey there!

I'm so glad you love BMD. 🥰 I’m slowly but surely working through my inbox of requests! And because I’m currently on my “moon cycle” as I’m writing this [last week. I was suffering for four days], I just had to do this prompt. So thank you for it, lovely!

And you're so very welcome. It's my pleasure. I hope you're healthy and happy as well!! ❤️❤️

AN: This one is set in the Break Me Down-verse, but can be read as a stand-alone. Considering where we're going next in "Strong as Blood," I thought it'd be good to release this first lol.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Word Count: 2,700 Tags/Warnings: Period talk, of course. Hurt/comfort, fluff, grumpy Ben.

Imagine: How Ben reacts to his girlfriend having cramps during her period.

You really were going to die this time.

The thought was both a conviction and a deranged mantra as you stood hunched over the bathroom sink. Nausea and pain warred for dominance as you pressed a clammy hand over your forehead.

Jesus Christ, end me please. I beg of you.

Meanwhile, your boyfriend was in the bedroom getting ready for work. Both you and Ben worked at Supe Affairs now, with Butcher and the rest of the team.

You were one of the top agents in the Surveillance department, while Ben was considered a “contractor,” catching rogue supes and dealing with the remnants of Vought.

He was just about to undress from his shirt and sweatpants and start getting his supe suit on, when he heard the toilet flush in the bathroom…for the third time now. He realized then just how long you’d been in there.

He went over and knocked on the closed door.

“Hey, you planning on going to work today?” he said, with a teasing note to his voice. “Or making breakfast, for that matter?”

“Not now, Ben,” you replied, barely stifling a groan.

A frown tugged at his lips. “What’s wrong?”

“Debating if I’m gonna start my day by throwing up last night’s pot roast,” you replied sourly.

Ben’s brows crunched when he heard the strain in your voice. But at the same time, he couldn’t help smiling.

“What, are you pregnant?” he asked.

He heard your dry huff from the other side of the bathroom door.

“Most definitely not,” you said. “But at this point, I’d much rather be knocked up.”

Ben didn’t like the sound of that. He twisted the doorknob and let himself in, just to see his girlfriend locked up with pain. He read the misery written across your face. You were still in your pajamas (one of his old shirts that hung almost to your knees).

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he repeated gruffly. He rested a heavy hand on your back, between your shoulders. You let out a breath.

“Move that hand lower?” you requested. “My period came early this month. Hit me out of nowhere with a vengeance.”

His brows crunched a bit, but he obliged you, moving to your lower back. His hand was warm, as usual, and the weight of it was a small relief as he rubbed back and forth into your aching muscles.

You let out a deep breath and briefly closed your eyes. Finally, the nausea was starting to pass. And if you dawdled any longer, you were going to be late for work.

“Okay,” you breathed. “I need to get ready.”

You tried to straighten up, even though what felt like your entire lower body protested.

“You can barely move,” Ben said. “How’re you gonna work like that?”

“The way all women have managed to do for centuries,” you tartly pointed out. “With a buttload of painkillers and a heating pad under my desk…speaking of, where is that thing?”

You moved past him to look for said object. You knew you put it somewhere…

Ah! You found it in the top drawer of your nightstand. You plugged it in just to make sure it was working, but to your frowning suspicion, it didn’t turn on.

“Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me,” you said. You pressed the “on” button several times, but it didn’t light up. You touched the fluffy heating pad on both sides, but it was still cold. “Damn it. Don’t tell me this thing’s broken!”

You were about ready to tear the thing apart with your bare hands, when a sudden cramp spasmed in your lower belly. You inhaled sharply and held a hand there with a wince. Your back bent forward on reflex, and you grabbed onto the nightstand to steady yourself.

“All right,” Ben said. He took the defunct heating pad out of your hand and guided you to sit down on the edge of the bed. He went over to his side to grab his cell phone where it sat on his nightstand.

When you twisted to see what he was up to, you raised a suspicious brow. “What are you doing?”

“You’re not going to work,” he said. His tone was matter of fact, and your brows rose even higher.

“What? Ben—”

He ignored you when whoever he was calling finally answered the phone.

“Yes?” came Grace Mallory’s steady, but slightly incredulous voice. Ben never called her, nor did he want to. But he didn’t have your manager’s number and didn’t feel like scrolling through your phone to find it.

“She’s not coming in today,” Ben said, without preamble.

"Ben," you tried. Again, he ignored you.

In his ear, Grace spoke your name, both a question and a clarification.

“Yeah, she’s sick. Get someone else to fill in,” he said.

Grace sighed. “…All right, but just so you know—”  

Ben hung up the phone before she could finish. He then tossed it onto the bed. You shot him a wry, questioning look.

“What did she say?” you asked.

“It’s fine. You’ve got the day off,” he said. “Just relax.”

You sighed. Going above your manager to call Grace wasn’t the protocol for taking PTO in the slightest, but you couldn’t help but smile.

You beckoned him over with a hand. "Come 'ere."

A smirk tugging at his lips, Ben came back around to your side of the bed. You pulled him down by his shirt until he sat next to you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck in a hug. Maybe it was a small thing, but sometimes your boyfriend surprised you with the ways he showed that he cared.

“Thanks, baby,” you said softly. You carded your fingers through his hair, rested them at the back of his neck.

“Mhmm,” Ben nodded, rubbing your back again. “I gotta get going.”

“If you must,” you sighed. You pulled away enough to see his face, and something occurred to you. “Oh, can you get me some more feminine pads on the way home? And some Midol, and a new heating pad?”

Ben raised a brow at you. This was where he drew the line. He wasn’t about to be caught dead browsing through pads and tampons in some pharmacy aisle. God for-fucking-bid, some kid would be there with a camera phone. He’d learned about the internet, and it was worse than the tabloids used to be.

But you read the pullback in his face. You implored him with your eyes, and your gentle fingers in his hair.

“Please?” you asked. “I’d do it for you.”

Ben’s frown deepened.

“I’m not the one with the…” He gestured at you vaguely. “Monthly problem.”

You grinned a little. The way he reluctantly phrased it amused you. Despite his deplorable sense of humor, and often vulgar language, not to mention his blatant love of pussy, you supposed his fragile male disposition wouldn’t allow him to say the words.

Period.

Menstrual cycle.

Bleeding from the vagina.

“Exactly,” you countered, and you leaned up to once again snuggle your face into his neck. “Please, baby. You don’t know how much it hurts right now. You really want me to go to the store like this?”

Ben held you back with a terse sigh. You were somehow ready to go to work a minute ago, yet you couldn’t drive around the corner to the drug store?

“Fine,” he groused. His voice was nearly a growl, but you still smiled behind his back. You laid small, sweet kisses into his neck. When you leaned back, you pressed a lingering kiss to his lips.

“Thank you,” you said between kisses. Ben just shook his head when you were done bribing him with affection.

“Yeah,” he dully replied. The things I fucking do for you, said his tone.

He finally withdrew from you to continue getting dressed, leaving you to crawl back under the covers and try to find a comfortable angle to lay down. You used all the pillows on the bed, even dragging his toward you. That one you rested your head on, as it still smelled like him.

Ben watched you settle in out of the corner of his eye, like a cat curling up in her bed. A smile tugged at his lips when you sighed in relief and turned on the TV.

He didn’t see so much pain in your features anymore. You seemed in a better mood, relaxed as you held his pillow like an anchor.

So that’s how he left you. However, it wasn’t until he got to the Supe Affairs building that he saw your text pop up on his phone:

Here’s a picture of the pads I like. If you don’t see them, call me and I’ll help you. And don’t forget the heating pad! 😘

He rolled his eyes in annoyance.

By the time he got home that evening with takeout and a plastic bag (filled with the things you'd asked for), he spotted an empty cup of yogurt in the kitchen.

It meant you’d gotten out of bed at some point, at least. He set down the takeout bags on the kitchen counter and made his way up the stairs.

He found you in the same place he left you: in bed, in your pajamas. And you were crying while watching a movie.

Ben frowned. He stood in the doorway in his supe suit with the pharmacy bag.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. You looked up and finally noticed him.

“Oh, hey.” You paused the movie. “I’m okay. It’s just…Marley & Me.”

“What?”

“It’s this true story about a dog…just, don’t ask. It’s ridiculously sad,” you sniffed and wiped your eyes.

He raised a brow at you.

“Sure it’s not just your uh…situation, making you all weepy?” he asked.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You did not just say that.”

Was he really calling you hormonal right now?  

His lips pursed, but he held up the bag.

“Before you start blowing your top, I got your female shit.” He ventured into the bedroom and laid the bag in your lap.

Giving him some annoyed side-eye, you peered into the bag. You nodded in approval at the correct brand and size of the pads you wanted, and a new pack of Midol. You then had to smile, as he even got you a couple of Twix bars. Your favorite chocolate covered candy.

“Admit it, I did good,” Ben said with a smirk. Your side-eye was begrudgingly amused this time.

“Color me surprised,” you replied, but you still treated him with a genuine smile. “Thanks, baby. This is perfect…”

Though you realized something was missing. Ben’s smirk started to fade as he caught on.

“Wait.” You sorted through the bag. “Where’s the heating pad?”

Fuck, Ben thought. He forgot.

His expression slackened, making you sigh in disappointment.

“Okay, it’s fine,” you said, ripping open the box of Midol. This would have to be enough to relieve your pain (but it never was). Even now, your cramps were starting back up again.

Ben nodded in response. You were no longer looking at him though.

He let out a sigh. Didn’t he get credit for fucking trying here?

Without another word, he started unzipping his supe suit and disappeared into the bathroom for a shower.

By the time he returned, you were nearly in full fetal position. The Midol had only put a dent in your pain. The First Wives Club movie from the '90s was playing on the TV, but not even that could make you laugh, let alone relax right now.

You were truly miserable, and Ben saw it as he got dressed in a clean pair of sweatpants and a shirt.

“Hey, you hungry?” he asked. He wasn’t sure about the last time you’d eaten anything.

You paused the movie and moved your head enough to meet his eyes.

“Not really,” you admitted. “You go ahead and eat.”

Oh, he was starving. After the day he’d had, rounding up another telekinetic that tried to trash Midtown to evade capture, Ben could go for about five burgers. But there was a part of him that…didn’t feel right, leaving you like this.

Still, he needed to eat. He went downstairs and grabbed his meatball sub out of the takeout bag. He also took your sandwich along too, just in case the sight of food managed to make you hungry. He brought it all upstairs and sat next to you in bed. Though he was also kind of behind you, the way you were curled up.

You'd felt when his body dipped on his side of the bed. His presence both soothed and annoyed you. The former, because you did love your man. The latter, because he forgot the most important thing you'd reminded him not to forget.

You reached back blindly, eventually finding his hand that wasn't occupied with holding his sandwich. You placed that hand on your lower back.

"Massage, please," you grunted into your pillow. (Well, his pillow, but semantics.)

He sighed through his nose and a mouthful of meatball.

"I'm eating," he replied.

"What, you can't multitask?" you quipped.

Ben's gaze hardened with annoyance at the back of your head.

Still, he found himself reaching over and rubbing across your lower back. He applied gentle, but firm pressure with the heel of his hand. You sighed in appreciation.

“Thanks,” you murmured. Ben nodded and continued to polish off his sub while watching the movie. He usually wasn’t into chick flicks, but Bette Midler was hilarious, and Goldie Hawn was hot as fuck.

“I got you turkey and provolone,” he said. You nodded.

“Thanks. I’m still not hungry though.”

“Are you nauseous?”

“No…just in pain.”

Ben frowned…until he got an idea. He crumpled up his trash and tossed it onto the nightstand for now, along with brushing off the crumbs from his chest. He grabbed a couple of your pillows and propped them up behind him, against the headboard.

You shot him an annoyed look. “Hey!”

“You’re like a little dragon with her hoard a’ gold,” he remarked, smirking. Before you could start getting all huffy, he reached for your arm. “Come ‘ere.”

“What?”

“For once, just do what I'm telling you," he said. His lips twitched at your narrowing eyes. "I’ve got an idea."

With a loud sigh, you reluctantly (and slowly) uncurled and turned towards him. Ben laid back against the headboard, and he guided you to lay on top of him. You often complained that his skin was too hot at night for summer. Sometimes you woke up sweating.

It was a result of the power that emanated from his chest. Ben couldn’t exactly control the heat; at least, not when he was sleeping. But he was sure you were going to appreciate it more when winter came.

Not to mention, right now.

He positioned you just right, with your knee curling around his hip and your head resting against his chest. His large hand once again soothed against your lower back, underneath your shirt, and his fingers massaged into your skin.

You smiled as you realized what he was doing. You felt the warmth emanating from his body as it seeped into yours. Along with his calming touch, it slowly managed to relieve your pain.

After a few minutes, you let out a deep sigh and pressed a soft kiss to his chest, before you went back to resting on him fully. You couldn’t see it, but Ben smiled.

“Better?” he asked.

You closed your eyes with a soft smile. “Yeah. My new heating pad’s working wonders.”

Ben huffed a bit at that.

Just then, your stomach growled fiercely. Your eyes popped open.

You met your boyfriend's wry look, biting your lip. He smirked and reached down into the bag that still laid beside the bed. He retrieved your foil-wrapped sandwich and handed to you. You took it and happily began breaking through the foil.

Ben looked down at you, both fond and resigned. You clearly had no intention of getting off him. Which meant you were about to try and use him like some kind of makeshift man table.

You eventually took a bite of your sandwich, your eyes lighting up as you hummed in appreciation. You glanced up at his raised brow with a happy little smile.

“So good!” you said, still with your mouth full.

Ben restrained the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he thumbed at a bit of crumb on the corner of your mouth.

“Just don’t get mustard on my shirt,” he said.

AN: Lol I hope you liked this! I had fun with it, even though I don't have a body heater for my cramps. 😭

(It's fine. I bought a new heating pad online. ❤️‍🔥)

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[inoreuct]

alternate universe where zoro isn't a swordsman or an actor but in fact a secret third thing (A LULULEMON AMBASSADOR)

okay maybe not lululemon specifically but if it was it’d be hilarious. any athleisure brand, honestly; sanji’s there as a leggings model and there’s talk of a new sports bra model coming in for their next shoot and he’s like oh!! a lovely lady!! that’s wonderful!! and he makes his best chewy chocolate chip cookies (with 60% cacao because he’s cultured) and brings them to the studio— but the new model happens to be late, so sanji’s wandering around on break with his cookies and hoping to be the first one to welcome them before he turns a corner and someone SLAMS into him.

he’s nearly knocked off his feet and he barely manages to keep the container of cookies from going flying because it feels like he just collided with a brick wall. the person grabs his waist to steady him, one hand on his hip and the other around his back, and he feels his tupperware bump against their jaw as his hands scrabble to find purchase on their shoulders.

once his brain's realised that he, in fact, isn't falling and eating shit, sanji looks up and freezes.

grey eyes and green hair and tan skin, long, long lashes, a strong nose and low-set brows and oh, he's so close. sanji's breath catches as fingertips press gently into the side of his ribcage—

and he squawks as he's dropped unceremoniously to the floor, whipping his head around so furiously his neck cracks as the guy just steps over his legs and keeps on walking.

"hey!" sanji shouts, climbing to his feet as he tries to ignore the way he's flushing with anger and something-else-he-will-not-name-please-fuck-off. "who the hell do you think you are?!"

the guy turns back, looking almost bored as he drones, "an employee."

"what, they hired you to haul equipment?" sanji scoffs, and his stomach sinks when the guy flashes him a grin that's sharp enough around the edges to look dangerous.

"no. i'm modelling the new sports bra collection."

and oh. sanji has to put a hand on the wall so he doesn't sit right back down as the guy walks out of view. this can't be happening. he's gonna jump right off the fucking roof.

he stress-eats all his cookies, fuming mad and pacing a groove into the floor, and he’s still licking crumbs off the corners of his mouth as he storms back onto the set. zoro’s already standing there, sports bra on and arms up as the staff fuss around him, making adjustments and asking him about the fit, and sanji’s eye is twitching. that is not a lovely lady. that is an OGRE.

(who just so happens to have muscles for days and the nicest chest sanji’s ever seen in his life BUT THAT IS BESIDES THE POINT.)

and of course they start bickering almost immediately.

this guy’s an athlete, not a model. he’s stiff and stubborn and coarse and sanji learns his name is roronoa zoro, some hotshot kendo champion who’s only here because my sister signed me up, so you can blame her for ruining your day, your majesty, and ooooooh. sanji wants to kick him. sanji wants to kick him so bad.

zoro thinks sanji’s some sort of spoiled pompous brat (honestly at the moment he’s acting like one, he is self-aware, but it’s his defense mechanism okay??) and sanji can’t stand all the snide under-breath snark that zoro’s slipping him after every sentence. they have to film zoro running to prove that the sports bra actually works and sanji pretends to trip and faceplant so he has an excuse for his nosebleed.

they pause the shoot for the day after that; sanji’s off like a rocket and clearly avoiding people so why is the mosshead following him. he speedwalks to the carpark with zoro stuck right to his side and gets progressively faster until he can hop on his bike and pedal away and then zoro starts RUNNING next to him?? and sanji’s like HOW ARE YOU KEEPING UP. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU and he’s pedalling as fast as he can and at this point even zoro’s a little out of breath and he gasps “GO OUT WITH ME” and sanji jams on the breaks so hard he nearly flies off his damn bicycle.

“what.” it’s the first thing that’s out of his mouth. they’ve skidded to a stop in the middle of some small side street; zoro’s earrings are chiming against each other, and the thought that they sound surprisingly sweet crosses sanji’s mind. “what.”

“go out with me,” zoro repeats, hands on his hips as his chest heaves.

sanji blinks. “why?” they’ve been nothing but animous towards each other thus far, and he likes to think that most of his dates actually like him.

the green-haired man shrugs a shoulder. “dunno. i’ve got a good feeling.”

“a good feeling,” sanji echoes, caught between disbelief and some sort of alarmingly fond disdain. “guess everybody’s gotta depend on something, huh, algae-brain?”

zoro just stares at him and says nothing.

“…oh, alright, fine!” sanji yells, throwing his hands into the air. “unbelievable. i can’t believe i’m doing this. seven o’clock, makino’s pizza, and do not,” he hisses, leaning in as he jabs a finger into zoro’s sternum, “be late.”

(zoro is late. sanji refuses to admit he’s disappointed for the entire thirty-seven (not that he'd been counting) minutes he waits, poking unenthusiastically at his milkshake and cursing this stupid guy for playing what was probably a stupid mean joke on him and cursing himself for falling for it.)

(at minute thirty-eight, zoro bursts through the door red-faced, rain-soaked, gripping a bottle of wine by the neck and raking his sodden hair off his forehead. the bell's not even done ringing before he's found sanji and is sliding into the opposite side of the booth seat.)

"sorry," he breathes, leaning against the backrest as he catches his breath. “i got lost.”

sanji’s too warm with the relief rushing through him to ream him out. “is that wine?”

“uh, yeah.” zoro sets the bottle on the table and turns it so the label faces away. “my dad owns a vineyard.”

sanji reads the thin cursive font, looks up at zoro as his eyes go wide, and reads it again. “your dad’s dracule mihawk? he’s one of zeff’s oldest suppliers, how did i never…”

the other man huffs a laugh. “adoptive, which explains the the lack of family resemblance. both me and my sister perona.”

“oh my god. the famous paranormal blogger perona.”

“mhm.”

sanji blinks twice before shaking himself out of it, taking a big gulp of his milkshake. “your family’s wild.”

“tell me about it,” zoro chuckles, scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck. the hems of his pant legs are dripping onto the floor. “how ‘bout you? anybody i’d know in your family tree?”

“well,” sanji begins, thinking. “my dad’s red leg zeff. runs the Baratie?”

“the seafood place? my best friend’s there every week!”

“no.” sanji’s starting to grin as he sits forward. “blinding smile, bottomless stomach, scar on his left cheek—”

“yeah!” zoro exclaims, and it suddenly hits sanji that this guy really does have a dangerous smile because if he keeps laughing like that, well. he doesn’t want to let himself hope quite yet. “damn. how come we’ve never met sooner?”

sanji shrugs eloquently. “wrong timing, maybe.”

it’s quiet for a while after that. they order a pizza to share and a side of cheese fries, and sanji is equal parts impressed and disgusted when zoro manages to shove an entire slice in his mouth at one go by rolling it up. they talk and bicker and joke and sanji ends up laughing so hard he’s rendered mute and slipping off the bench.

when the hiccups die down, he pushes himself up with one hand and sighs. “seriously, though. why?” why are we here? why’d you want to do this?

he doesn’t need to elaborate, though. zoro shifts back against the cracked cushions and tilts his head. “has any ever been able to keep up with you?”

"...no," sanji says quietly, and he can't help the hurt that stings hot and aching in his stomach. the shame that one word carries makes his face warm because he knows, he knows he's a lot sometimes— he’s been told as much by so many exes that he can’t even count them.

he knows zoro clocks the mood shift by the way the other man suddenly looks like he’s floundering a little, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “didn’t mean that in a bad way,” he finally says, the words soft and a little rushed, and he doubles down when sanji flashes him a smile that’s more empty than anything else. “not at all. you’re the only one who’s ever been able to keep up with me.”

and sanji… doesn’t know what to make of that.

he drains the rest of his milkshake and slides out of his seat. “let’s get out of here.”

the park is mostly empty this late, and sanji snags the bottle out of zoro’s hands. cuts the foil with his house keys and works the cork out, moving to stuff it into his coat pocket before zoro gently takes it from him. it’s a red wine, rich and smooth, and it goes down easy; almost too easy. sanji’s home is a walk away and he can drink as much as he damn well wants.

it’s not logical, how he’s feeling right now. zoro had already clarified what he’d meant. and still it simmers in his gut, sour and cold, a feeling that makes him lift the bottle to his lips again. too much. always too much. too much love, too overbearing, how do you expect anybody to keep up, sanji? you’re too much. he goes in for another swig.

zoro’s hand wraps over his. “hey.”

irritation flares behind sanji’s teeth before guilt snuffs it out. the other man’s gnawing at his lip, slowly shifting the bottle down as they stop walking. “i’m sorry. i really didn’t mean to upset you,” zoro mutters, looking genuinely worried, and sanji’s next breath in aches.

“no, it’s— i’m sorry. i’m sorry. this is supposed to be a date,” he laughs weakly, digging his fingers into glass to try and ground himself. “and i’m drinking up all the wine.”

“it’s for you,” zoro rebuts, nudging him with a shoulder. “you’re supposed to be drinking it.”

he doesn’t. they start walking again, the wet cobbled path dappled by light shining through the trees, and sanji tucks the bottle against his front as he loops his arm through zoro’s. “this is a first for me, y’know,” he says, squeezing zoro’s bicep. “i promise i’m not usually this rude.”

“says the man who called me a badly-planted cabbage patch this afternoon,” zoro snorts, and sanji can’t help but laugh. “seriously, though, s’alright. i get it. we all have our sore spots; i just hadn’t gotten the chance to learn about yours.”

sanji pinches his lips together. that, right there— zoro is rough around the edges but he is kind. he stops where it counts. sanji had shown the slightest sign of discomfort and he’d stopped pushing. it’s bold, and crazy, and completely out of line in his own personal rulebook— but zoro doesn’t move away when sanji tips his head onto his shoulder, so sanji swallows to clear his throat.

“do you want it?”

zoro’s lashes cast long shadows on his cheeks as they flutter, and he looks down. “hm?”

“the chance.” it’s a little chilly out; sanji’s coat is enough, but he lets himself curl closer to the warmth radiating through zoro’s padded jacket. it cuts through the dampness that’s still not quite gone. “do you want it?”

zoro’s eyes flick over his face, widening imperceptibly when he realises that sanji’s serious, and the smile that pulls at his mouth is a slow, beautiful thing.

he presses his cheek to sanji’s hair. they’re both smiling when he takes the wine bottle and drinks.

(sanji makes more cookies when they have their next shoot. 70% cacao this time after he learns that zoro can’t stand sweet things, and he teases the shit out of the man about it being relative to both his taste in food and his taste in people.)

(zoro finishes the last crumb, very firmly tells sanji that he is wrong, and kisses him so thoroughly he goes light-headed.)

(and if some of the staff see them canoodling behind the water cooler, well. the chocolate sanji wipes off his mouth is the only evidence.)