#but right now i just fucking need to pour this out somewhere that's louder than just screaming into my pillow

[strangefable]

just have to crylaugh when a perfectly random innocuous thing slams into you like a fucking freight train and reminds you that no, actually, you're never going to stop being traumatized about your dead parents

[medusapelagia]

04 Back in town

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt: Angst with Happy Ending) and @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt: Zombie Apocalypse) Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve & Hopper, Steve/Eddie TW: AU zombies, body horror, injuries, blood, whump, presumed dead character Words: 1221

Steve always knew that he would die alone, fighting some monstrous creatures.

Since the first time he hit a Demogorgon with a nailed bat in Jonathan's Byer living room, he never stopped fighting.

What he wasn't expecting was having to fight people he knew.

Maybe Jason Carver and his brother Christian weren't exactly his best friends, but finding their rotting corpses chasing him while he was looking for supplies in the back of Malvad wasn't exactly on his wishlist.

Steve jumps on a rusty car's roof, holding his backpack tight and looking for an escape. He still has Hopper's gun, but the noise would only attract even more zombies, so he grabs the switchblade from his back pocket and clicks it open, still looking around, weary. If there's something he has learned, it's that towns are way more dangerous than the woods: too many blind corners where zombies can hide.

Jason Carver is already trying to climb on the car when Steve kicks him in the face and his rotten teeth fall on the ground, bouncing like white marbles. Christian is just behind him, and Steve loses no time: he stabs him in the stomach and pushes him to the ground. That’s not the right way to kill them, but the fastest to get rid of them while he runs toward the old movie theater.

The old signboard where Tommy wrote some slurs against Nancy in another life, is dangling, so Steve runs toward it, planning to use the slope at his vantage to get on the roof. He kisses the black and red guitar pick around his neck for good luck and jumps from the car's roof to the concrete before sprinting toward the theater. The signboard cracks loudly before breaking in half under Steve's weight, but he manages to cling to the ledge of the theater, with his legs dangling in the air.

A sudden burning pain makes him scream, and for a moment his left hand slips and moves instinctively toward his injured leg. Christian Carver is standing under him, reaching out toward Steve's legs with his discolored arms. Steve kicks him hard, freeing his leg from the zombie's hold, and with the adrenaline still pumping in his veins, he pulls himself up on the movie theater's roof, rolling on his back and finally catching his breath.

The Carver brothers are still growling, and Steve knows that the smell of his blood will attract every fucking zombie still in town. He's utterly fucked. And Hopper will be furious. He told him not to go in town alone, but El was sick and even some expired meds are better than no meds at all. 

Steve rummages in his backpack: going to the school's infirmary was a good call, he found some gauze and a few meds, but Melvald was a disaster. He knew it was one of the first places that got ransacked. He grabs a half-empty bottle of water, drinks some, and pours some on his leg. It looks nasty.

Fuck.

With a sigh and trembling hands, he takes the walkie-talkie from the backpack and turns it on. It slowly cracks to life while the growls under the theater get higher and louder. How long till those monsters find a way to get on the roof?

"Hey Hop," he says, pushing the button.

"Steve? Steve, where the hell are you?"

"In town."

"How many times did I tell you-"

"Got El's meds."

"Ok. Ok. Now get your ass back home. It’s going to get dark soon."

"Don't think I will. Christian Carver got me good."

"Steve." 

Steve can hear Hopper grit his teeth, "How long? We could still-"

"I'm in Hawkins and it's getting darker. No reason to risk it. I'll leave the backpack somewhere safe here on the movie theater roof. Come and get in the morning, ok?"

"Steve."

Steve whimpers softly. He has some gauze in his bag but he doesn't want to waste it. He's going to die on that roof anyway and the others will need it more than him.

“Sorry Dad,” he says, before turning off the radio and pulling the batteries out.

No goodbyes. Steve hates those. 

The throbbing pain from his leg keeps him awake, while the sun slowly sets. It’s not a bad way to go, he thinks to himself.

He’s drinking some water when he hears the noise of a helicopter propeller.

He must be hallucinating: gas is long gone. But the noise gets closer and closer, and a bright yellow light blinds him for a moment. A rope falls from the helicopter and someone dressed all in black climbs down with ease. The unknown man gets closer to him, and Steve shivers in fear. Maybe he's not so ready to die after all.

The man moves slowly, studying Steve's face before bending next to his leg, "How long?" he asks, staring at the bloody injury.

"Hours."

"Shit! Shit! Shit!"

The voice seems so painfully familiar.

"Ok, we can still take you to Owens and-"

"Eddie?'' Steve asks, confused. The last time Steve saw Eddie he gave him his guitar pick before leaving with his band to make it big. And then the world split in two and people were turned into zombies.

"Hey, big boy. You always had a wicked sense of humor. Now that I finally found you, you play me a trick like this?"

"Sorry, Ed. Didn't mean it."

Eddie grabs the bottle of water, helping him drink a few sips.

"I'm going to take you away from here," Eddie says, helping Steve stand, who whines loudly even if Eddie helps him hold his weight. He tightens the rope around Steve's middle and holds himself with his arms while the crew on the helicopter pulls them up.

As soon as they are on the helicopter someone yells, "Are you fucking crazy? He's infected!"

"I wasn't gonna let him die on that fucking roof alone, ok Gar?" Eddie replies, while a dark-skinned man, Jeff if Steve’s memory isn’t wrong, points a flashlight on Steve's leg.

"There's no bite." He whispers, pulling the skin while Steve grits his teeth and Eddie and Gareth keep bickering in the back, "Hey, morons! There's no bite! Just a very nasty scratch!"

"Are you serious?" Eddie jumps next to Jeff, staring at Steve's wounded leg. The cuts are deep and need a very thorough cleaning, but if there's no bite.

"I knew you were a lucky son of a bitch, Harrington!" Eddie says in a jubilant tone, hitting Steve’s shoulder who whimpers and immediately asks for forgiveness.

“El. I have medicine for El in the backpack.” Steve tries to explain, while Jeff is still trying to clean the cut as well as he can.

“We’ll find them and we’ll take them home. For the moment all you have to do is rest and recover.” Jeff says, wrapping Steve’s injured leg.

“Home?” Steve asks, confused.

“Dear Steve Harrington, you’re now a member of the Nina Project Community.” Eddie grins, sitting on the floor so that Steve can rest his head on his legs.

Eddie brushes some sweaty strands of hair away from Steve’s head with his fingers, “Don’t worry, Stevie. Everything will be fine.”

And if Eddie is still alive and he found a safe place to call home, maybe there’s still hope.

[angelkhi]

hi! i loved your fic about abby so much! really one of the best I've ever read <3

can you write hcs about abby and how supportive she would be with her girlfriend being a volleyball player? like.. help her before an important game, the sexual tension when they argue after reader lost a-and all

thank you for everything!

i hope i did this justice! thank you so much for the ask and the kind words!! <3

prefacing this by saying my knowledge of volleyball (and most sports in general) are ranked somewhere between -0 and 0%. (i’m a formula 1 girlie i like cars going zoom)

this is generally sfw but it gets a bit smutty as per (minors do not interact i know where you live i’ll make your parents take your phone away😡).

pregame!abby who gives you snacks and water, feeding you information on the other team (which you’re sure is not allowed).

pregame!abby making you a playlist to hype you up, sneaking silly songs in there to make you de-stress a little.

pregame!abby sitting you on her lap, hyping you up in front of your teammates, whispering in your ear how good she’s gonna fuck you if you win.

wholesome pregame!abby who kisses you on the forehead, who tells you “go get em baby” before every game. (she can’t resist swatting your ass as you leave).

pregame!abby getting all handsy with you, riling you up before the game so you can take it out on the other team.

pregame!abby letting you re-braid her hair when you get all nervous and fidgety before a game.

game day!abby who wears your gets mouthy with the ref over every tiny incident, standing off to the side arms crossed.

game day!abby who cheers louder than anyone else, shouting “that’s my girl” every time you score.

game day!abby trash talking the other team, pretending it’s someone else when the ref looks her way (she’s on her final warning).

game day!abby giving you pep talks between sets, making sure you rehydrate, reassuring you when your team is down a few points.

postgame!abby letting you sit silently in the passenger seat, hand on your thigh. after a loss she knows you’re disappointed in yourself even though it was a team effort, but she also knows coming at you glass half full will just piss you off.

postgame!abby doing little things, running you a bath, stocking up on your favourite snacks, ordering your favourite takeout, putting on your favourite movie even though she thinks it’s dumb.

postgame!abby who’s been waiting for you to snap, knowing that at some point all of that self depreciation and anger is gonna come pouring out.

postgame!abby knowing that you’re not angry at her, nor do you mean to take it out on her but she’ll take it if it makes you feel better.

postgame!abby refusing to touch you until you fix your attitude, making your moods even worse. it’s a game of cat and mouse, who will cave first? (she knows it’s you)

postgame!abby doing everything she can to get under your skin, lingering touches only to deny you later on, sitting you on her lap lips tracing your neck, fingers skirting along your hips until you reach a breaking point, then nothing.

postgame!abby finally having enough of your bratty behaviour, pinning you down against the plush sofa, completely overpowering you, crowding you with her scent and her touch not giving you what you want until you ask her.

postgame!abby who definitely edges her pretty girl until she’s quite literally on her knees begging for it, and then overstimulating you until you’re a blubbering mess. she’s so in tune with you, she knows it’s exactly what you need to release that tension. to finally talk instead of pushing her away.

postgame!abby who praises the shit out of you. yeah you both get off on it, but right now she’s all about rebuilding your self esteem and a little bit (a lot) of praise never hurt anybody.

postgame!abby with the sweetest aftercare, bathing you, wrapping you up in the comforter, hydrating you, feeding you, letting you talk. telling you how proud she is no matter if you win or lose.

just sweet abby and her volleyball girl <333

[tempportal]

@dvarapala / continued from here

"Can't you just drop it?!" Somewhere in the very back of his brain, it occurs to him that maybe he said it a little bit louder than he strictly needed to, and certainly a whole lot louder than he's ever said anything to her before — he's always tried his best to protect Udyati from him, to smooth and soften his sharp edges for her, to give her that one microscopic piece of his personality he can call good, but now he's all teeth and claws and burning, white-hot, knife-sharp rage, because she just won't stop pushing him. "Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, it's not as simple as oh, she's not my version of Dolores, so I don't give a shit about her? Of fucking course I give a shit about her! She's my wife! You think I care what universe she comes from?!"

Five doesn't remember exactly when he pushed back his chair and got to his feet, or when his hands clenched themselves up into white-knuckled fists, but he can feel the smooth hardwood floor under the soles of his shoes, and he can feel his own blunt nails digging into the soft skin of his palms, and he has to pull in a very deep, slow breath, and tell himself to calm the fuck down, before he can uncurl his fingers.

"Look," he says, finally, and far quieter than he expects from himself right now, all the fury draining from him in an instant, "it's not a matter of whether I owe her anything or not. And it's not a matter of whether I want to help her or not. It's that—it's that I—I know she's not my Dolores. I know that. But she's—she's exactly like her. All the things she says, and all the things she does… her eyes, and her smile, and the way she walks, and that weird sense of humor she has, and the way she rolls her Rs—it's all exactly like the Dolores I knew, down to the smallest detail, and I—I can't—"

Five swallows hard, trying his best to pretend he can't feel the red-hot flush in his cheeks, probably glaringly obvious to Udyati thanks to the sunlight pouring in through the window on the other side of the room. It's a testament to how much he trusts her that he hasn't ducked his head down or turned away to hide his face from her yet. It's a testament to how much he trusts her that he hasn't just teleported away into another room and neatly sidestepped this whole godawful conversation, actually.

"I can't be around her." It comes out just a little too much like a confession, and maybe that's what it is. "I have to stay away from her. Or I'll fall in love with her. And I can't do that."

[lunamists]

Not Just Flowers Wilt [BKDK]

//Cw: Throwing up, blood, fighting, miscommunication, death mention/near death, internalized homophobia, happy ending dw :3//

--

Izuku shakily looked down in the toilet where bloody cherry blossom and daisy petals floated on top of the water. His eyes widened as he looked at them, unable to stop more than came up and coughed their way out of his throat along with more blood. He gripped the seat as he started to shake and sob.

It made his chest and throat tighten more but he couldn't help the pure emotions that poured out of him as he looked at the flowers and thought about the conversation he just had with his best friend Katsuki Bakugou.

Well, he didn't know if he could call him that right now.

--

"You're trending." Izuku hummed to him as he looked at his phone.

Katsuki tilted his head, moving to look over his shoulder. "Click it, it's probably something stupid." "Who'd you cuss out?" Izuku joked making Katsuki playfully hit his arm. "Click it, dumbass!" Izuku smiled and pressed it.

The first post showed him all he needed to know. Izuku's eyes widened seeing the pictures. He tried so hard to keep his hand from shaking or even just dropping his phone all together from seeing it. He felt sick. "Fuck...the paparazzi saw that?" Katsuki groaned nonchalantly, running his fingers through his hair.

Izuku didn't know what to say. He just knew his chest burned and he felt like throwing up. Could you blame him? He just saw a picture of his best friend kissing another pro. "K-Kacchan?..What is this?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

He felt like he was going to cry, he couldn't speak much louder without potentially breaking. "It was nothing. She kissed me." He shrugged. "I didn't expect a picture to be taken of it though. PR is gonna kill me." He laughed, shaking his head.

"I suspected she was starting to flirt with me. That was the first time she acted on it though. I-" "So it didn't matter." "What was that?" Izuku stood up from his seat, looking up at him with glossy eyes. "It didn't matter. None of it mattered did it?"

Katsuki looked at him confused for a second. "What? The kiss with her? I mean mostly no, I mean I was starting to think about it I guess but-" "No! Not that!" Izuku snapped. His chest was starting to burn more and it was getting harder to breathe. "Then what Izuku? I'm not a damn psychic." Katsuki rolled his eyes. "The...the dates we went on? Did none of those matter? I thought we...were going somewhere..?" Izuku let his voice break and some tears fall. "What dates? Izuku what are you talking about?"

"The dates we went on! You took me to the amusement park! We went and got ice cream another time! You asked me out to that café you know I like, you-wait.." Izuku whispered, bracing himself and looking back at the picture of Katsuki and the other pro. His eyes darted over the image despite it being harder to see due to the tears but he saw what he needed. "You..You took her there.." Izuku dropped his phone back down onto the counter, looking back at him. "O-Our special spot you-you took her there!"

"..Izuku calm...calm down, this isn't worth it. You're not looking at this correctly. I didn't take her on a date or anything, it was just in the area and we were hungry. But neither did I take you on dates." He shook his head, crossing his arms. "You..but you..you got me so much stuff..you treated me so..sweet..those..that wasn't..?" "No, Deku. I never said they were dates." Katsuki said, seeming to get annoyed at this conversation. "And I can take anyone else anywhere I want to. You don't own that spot."

Izuku's heart broke more at his words as he stepped back. He couldn't ignore the bile creeping up any longer or the tears that were already escaping. "You just do that shit for fun then, huh?" Izuku laughed without humor. "Well fun fact Katsuki! That shit wasn't just fun for me!"

"What are you so upset for? That was your mistake thinking that was what it was." "Get out." "Wh-" "OUT." Izuku yelled before coughing. Katsuki looked at him worriedly, reaching out for him but Izuku just slapped his hand away. Katsuki left in a huff, slamming the door on his way out leaving Izuku to instantly dart to the bathroom.

--

That brought Izuku to where he was now. He knew what this was, he knew why it was happening. It was bound to happen eventually. He got his hopes up that Katsuki might actually like him back with the "dates" they went on but apparently Katsuki wouldn't ever dream of being like that with him. That thought made him cough up more petals and sob harder. Katsuki never wanted him the way Izuku wanted him. It was stupid he ever thought he did.

-

Izuku let the weeks pass, his condition starting to get worse to the point he was on a medical leave from hero work until his sickness got better. No one knew about his Hanahaki. They just thought he caught a bug or something. No one knew Izuku spent nights sobbing until he fell asleep from how tired he was until the pain woke him up and kept him up as it had before he even fell asleep in the first place.

It was like his permanent spot was leaning over the toilet waiting for more petals to be thrown up.

He hasn't spoken with Katsuki since the fight. The picture stayed trending until new pictures of him and the other pro came out. Each one Izuku saw broke him even more and made it even harder to breathe and even move. Izuku tried to keep up with the petals that now littered around his house from how many he was throwing up. Soon the petals turned into full flowers.

He did this to himself.

Izuku looked at his phone seeing a new notification not from any social media this time but from the Class 1-A group chat.

They were planning a dinner meetup for all who wanted to come. Izuku always attended these, it'd be weird for him to not go to it. As long as he made it to the weekend it'd be okay.

--

Izuku stumbled his way into the restaurant instantly seeing his friends and making his way over to the table. "H-Hey guys!" He put on the best smile he could. They all said their respective hellos as he sat down and joined their conversations. The table filled up more in due time with his old classmates making the room more full and lively.

He had to admit he missed this. They hadn't had a dinner in months.

Well, he missed it at least up until Katsuki showed up. He instantly felt his throat tighten and bile burn his chest. The only free seat was next to Izuku and the moment he sat down it got worse.

They both didn't say any word to one another, just stayed in their own conversations. Izuku started to quiet down himself and just limit himself to listening so he didn't risk petals falling onto the table without his control. He excused himself from the table when the burn became too much and he quickly had to make his way to the bathroom to empty his already empty stomach.

The flowers continued to fall out of his mouth. This is the worst its ever been. He didn't know what to do. He coughed heavily letting out more flowers. He took a deep shaky breath, wiping his face and shakily standing up, stumbling back slightly as he leaned against the stall wall. He just had to get through the rest of dinner. He'd make it through it, right? He wiped the blood off his mouth with the tissues before flushing the toilet and making his way out of the stall. He looked at himself in the mirror for a second, noticing how pale and weak he was starting to look. His freckles were hardly visible anymore and the dark circles under his eyes had gotten worse.

If any of his friends noticed they didn't say anything about it which he's thankful about. He didn't want them to worry about something that was his fault. Izuku tried fixing his hair a bit before walking back out to the table and taking his seat.

A couple of his old classmates nodded at him in acknowledgment before going back to their conversations. After a couple of hours the group started to disperse, saying their goodbyes upon having to head out. Izuku was about to leave and walk through the pouring rain that had just started before he was stopped by a voice behind him.

"You're not actually going to walk through the rain, are you?" Izuku turned to Katsuki who stood there before just nodding, starting to walk again before he stopped him once more. "You're going to get sick. Let me drive you home." Izuku frowned, he wanted to say no, he knew it'd hurt him more if he stayed by him for much longer. Yet he just allowed himself to be led out to his car and be driven home.

The drive was silent mostly and the air was tense. Izuku couldn't talk and Katsuki wasn't sure where to begin. Katsuki tapped on the steering wheel, something he did when he was nervous. "You were quiet during dinner." He whispered. Izuku just shrugged in response. "...Are we ever going to talk about it?" Izuku just shrugged again. "Izuku, I need more of a response than that, I know you're upset at me but I can't...do anything if you won't talk to me." Izuku looked at him for a second before he let out a cough and quickly clutched his aching chest. He couldn't breathe.

It hurt, it hurt so bad. He coughed a bit more, trying to hold it back as much as he could. "Did you lose your voice suddenly or something? When did you get sick?" "K-Kacchan, just take me h-home." He was able to get out, looking more out the window to distract himself. Katsuki was silent before just sighing, not saying anything else the rest of the drive. It was only a few more minutes but they were agonizing for Izuku. He was scared, he couldn't stop coughing every once in awhile. His breathing was getting worse, his throat was closing up.

He didn't want this to end with Katsuki near. One of the last few coughs was when Katsuki pulled into his driveway. This cough left his hands full of flowers. His eyes widened as he looked at Katsuki who was already staring at him in shock and pure fear.

"Izuku-" He shook his head, quickly unbuckling himself and unlocking the doors and stumbling out of the car trying to run into his house as fast as he could. He fumbled with the keys as Katsuki got out of the car as well. He unlocked the door and stumbled inside going to close the door behind him but he didn't have the strength to shut it all the way as he ran to the bathroom, Katsuki yelling after him right behind him.

"Izuku! Fuck, talk to me! What's going on?!" He yelled, running into the bathroom.

He was going to talk but the sight made him freeze and his breath hitch. Izuku was hunched over the toilet which was filled with flowers and blood to an extreme as he sobbed tears that could barely form from how dehydrated he was.

Katsuki fell to his knees beside him, placing a hand on his back which made him tense up and throw up more. "Izuku..oh..oh my god.. When?! When did this start?!" He was openly crying himself now, letting the fear take over of watching his best friend practically die before him. "A..A few weeks ago.." He whispered, voice low and weak. "After o-our fight.." Izuku saw no point of lying at this point. He was going to die anyway, he'd rather die with everything laid out before him than die regretting he didn't say anything.

"W-What..what are.. What are you t-talking about Izuku..you..a few weeks?!" He whispered harshly, watching Izuku look over to him. His eyes were so dull. He looked like a shell of the person he once was. "I don't.. This isn't... Why didn't you get the surgery Izuku!" He sobbed, hugging him to his chest, ignoring the flowers that fell on his lap. "We were supposed to stick together Izuku! Why didn't you let yourself live the moment this started?!" Izuku let himself chuckle weakly, his body continuing to grow more limp in his hold.

"I-I'm willing to die if it meant I got to continue loving you.."

Izuku fainted after he said that, his body too weak to continue staying awake. Katsuki frantically held his arm, feeling for his pulse. It was weak, so so weak. But it was still there.

"You idiot... You f-fucking idiot!" He yelled knowing Izuku couldn't hear him. But it wasn't Izuku he was talking to but himself. "He needs to stay.. He needs to know h-how you feel about h-him.." He whispered, dialing for an ambulance.

--

Izuku woke up to bright lights and an unfamiliar room and loud noises all around him. Where was he? He was supposed to be dead. Why wasn't he..? "Good morning." A familiar rough voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he looked to his side slowly. There Katsuki sat, a worried expression on his face. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

What had stuck out the most was the hold he had on Izuku's hand and how gentle yet tight it was. Not to mention the fact that he was shaking as he held his hand. "H-How are you feeling?" Katsuki asked him softly, like if he spoke any louder he'd break him. "I'm...just tired..." Izuku frowned, looking down at his lap as he started to take focus on where he was.

The heart monitor and the flowers that were on his bedside table. Katsuki took him to the hospital. He didn't feel the hurt in his chest anymore and he could breathe normally again. What did he do? "I figured you'd be tired.." Katsuki chuckled before standing up. "Do you want me to call the doctor and let him know you're up?" Izuku slowly shook his head, he needed a moment to process.

"Why am I here Kacchan?" He was silent for a moment before a gentle squeeze was felt on his hand. "Because I wasn't going to let you die."

"Don't tell me you-" "I didn't." Izuku's eyes widened, he didn't have him get the surgery. So how was he still here? The only cure was the surgery... Unless..? "Izuku, look at me." Izuku did so but had a difficult time keeping his eyes on him as multiple emotions flooded through him at once. He was still alive. He didn't get the surgery. How was he still alive? Why doesn't he feel the pain of the flowers within his chest taking over his entire body as he lay there with the man he loves. How can he still love him?

"I just want you to listen. Don't...don't worry about a response right now...okay? Just...listen. If you need me to slow down I will, okay?" Izuku nodded which allowed Katsuki to begin talking.

"That day we fought.. I had so many things running through my head I didn't know...what to even do.." He whispered, starting to run his thumb over Izuku's knuckles. "I...I've been so..confused recently and I just..I took it out on you cause..I didn't know..how to go about it.." He whispered, his eyes darting away. "You've always confused me and after our...dates...I was just even more confused.." Izuku looked at him confused, "You said what we were doing weren't dates?" "I was trying to convince myself more than convincing you."

"But...why?" Katsuki looked ashamed. In either his actions or himself Izuku wasn't sure. It was probably both. He knew he was trying to figure out how to say what he wanted. So he gave him the time he needed. Once he figured it out he took a deep breath, "I didn't.. I didn't like this part of me.. I..I don't know how to feel towards myself about liking anyone let alone that person being you." Katsuki's hand started to shake, Izuku mustered what he could to squeeze his hand.

"I did so much to you growing up because of how jealous I was of your strength and over time I tried so hard to bury what I felt for you. I tried dating people I didn't like just so I could run from my feelings like a fucking coward." Katsuki looked at him, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. "Even after all of that, it's still you I want to wake up to each morning and treat with so much care.. The care that you deserve.." Izuku felt his heart grow full as he listened to him continue.

"That kiss with that girl? Meant nothing to me. If anything I felt disgusted after it!" That made Izuku quietly chuckle. The first spark of emotion he's had in weeks. "I took her to that cafe cause of how much it reminded me of you.. I..I can't run no matter how much I tried."

Izuku nodded, leaning his head more on his pillow. "It's hard to accept something that's so different about yourself.." "I'm still struggling, Izuku.." "I am too..I understand." Katsuki sniffled, wiping his eyes, "I hurt you.. So much.. More than words can describe, Izuku." He took a deep breath, sitting down to become eye level with him. "If somewhere in there.. You can forgive me.. It doesn't need to be now.. You don't even have to care about this at all...but...If you could ever forgive me? I'm so sorry, Izuku, I'll spend forever making up for this hurt that I caused you. I.." Katsuki paused, meeting his gaze. The gaze that already looked so much more full of life. He felt a wave of familiar emotions hit him as he smiled. "I love you, Izuku." Izuku looked at him, processing everything he said.

On one end he understood everything, he was the same way when he found out he liked boys and especially Kacchan. On another end he was hurt. He almost lost his life. Something he accepted would happen in the beginning of all this but now that he was here it felt so surreal. Yet as his heart filled with warmth he missed feeling for what felt like eons he knew what his answer was. So he opened his mouth to speak.

--

"Are we cooking or doing takeout tonight?" A voice asked over the phone as Izuku hummed quietly in thought.

"Cooking! Can you make us katsudon?" He giggled, looking through the cabinets seeing if they had all the ingredients. "You got to get some things while at the store for it." "How did I just know you would want katsudon." "You know me so well!" He giggled.

"Whatever, I'll see you when I get home, alright? I love you." "I love you too! Stay safe!" Izuku said before the call disconnected and he started his wait.

-

"Kacchan!" He smiled, instantly hugging him as he walked through the door. "Hey Bunny, missed me?"

"Of course I did! You were gone for so long! How was patrol? Oh! Sorry, let's go put the bags in the kitchen." He hummed, taking some of the bags allowing him to talk as they walked to the kitchen. The house was soon filled with laughter and jokes between the two as they started to make the katsudon. They teased and taunted each other getting into small play fights which usually resulted in food getting somewhere it most likely shouldn't be. But they had fun, even if it took longer than it should for their food to be made and they were both covered in little tidbits of the ingredients. They just laughed it off, having a debate of who would take a shower first.

Once the home they shared quieted down some and they fell into calm conversations.

They sat happily enjoying the dinner while hands that bore matching golden rings on them were intertwined between the two of them. Izuku will forever be grateful for everything that happened. They had downs but the ups made him happy being here today with him by his side.

--

END

[fox-the-artist-fruit-canid]

More incorect quotes babyyy!

---

Mis, about Toxik: Apparently we’re getting someone new in the team.

Cherry: Are we stealing them?

Saeri: New or used?

Mis: Wonderful responses, both of you.

---

Eco: Yo is Mis sleeping or dead?

Sai: Hopefully dead, I hated their guts.

Kira: Yeah, so did I.

Mis: Okay first of all, fuck you-

---

*Mis's helping Sai out after they get injured, while the others are watching*

Eco: How does Sai look?

Kira: A little better than you, actually.

---

Mis: Is stabbing someone immoral?

Sai: Not if they consent to it.

Kira: Depends who you’re stabbing.

Eco: YES?!?

---

(The saga of the crackship continues)

Cherry: Why are your tongues purple?

Mis: We had slushies. I had a blue one.

Toxik: I had a red one.

Cherry: oh

Cherry:

Cherry: OH

Saeri:

Saeri: You drank each other's slushies?

---

Arax: Listen, I can explain...

Kira: You’re making $500,000 and you’re only gonna pay me $30,000?

Sai: You’re getting 30 grand? I’m getting $1,000!

Mis: You guys are getting paid?

---

*Mis is cooking*

Sai: Any chance that’s for me?

Mis: It’s for Eco and Take. I’m planning on making some bad choices tonight, and I need them on my side.

Kira: I never realized the forethought that went into being a disappointment.

---

Mis: You are now one day closer to eating your next plate of nachos.

Sai: That's the most hopeful thing I've ever heard.

Kira: But what if I die tomorrow and never eat any nachos?

Eco: Then tomorrow is nacho lucky day.

---

Eco n take: You know those things will kill you, right?

Sai, pouring another glass of whiskey: That’s the point.

Kira, smoking a cigarette: We’re trying to speed up the process.

Mis: *Nods while eating raw cookie dough*

---

Mis: *Screams*

Sai: *Screams louder to assert dominance*

Eco: Should we do something?!

Kira, observing: No, I want to see who wins this.

---

Mis: On a scale from “damn Daniel” to “fre sha vaca do”, how are you feeling?

Sai: In between “it’s an avocado, thanks” and “how did you defeat Captain America”, but as a solid answer I would say “I don’t need a degree to be a clothing hanger”. How about you, Kira?

Kira: Probably “road work ahead”.

Eco: I speak many languages, and this is none of them.

---

Eco: I think we're missing something.

Sai: Teamwork?

Kira: Cohesion?

Mis: A general sense of what we’re doing?

---

Mis, setting down a card: Ace of spades

Sai, pulling out an Uno card: +4

Kira, pulling out a Pokémon card: Jolteon, I choose you

Toxik, trembling: What are we playing

---

Mis: We need more help. Maybe I should call my friends.

Sai: ... Your what?

Mis: My friends.

Kira: Are they saying “friends”?

Eco: I think they're being sarcastic.

Take: No, no, no, this is delirium, they've cracked from being awake all night. Hey, Mis! All of your friends are in this room.

Mis: I have other friends! You asked me to make new friends, I made new friends! It was a task. I complete tasks.

---

Mis: Are we really going to let Take keep Toxik?

Eco,Sai n Kira: We kept Saeri.

---

Take: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the items you have lost throughout your life

Sai: Self-esteem, haven't seen you in years!

Mis: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this!

Eco: I knew I lost that potential somewhere!

Kira: My moral code, is that you?

Take:

Take: I was just gonna show you this cool trunk my mother left me but do you guys need a hug?

---

Take: You're a loose cannon, Mis.

Mis: No, I'm not. I'm a cannon maybe, but a loose cannon? Is that what you think of me?

Kira: I think you play by your own rules.

Eco: No way, they think rules were made to be broken.

Take: Those are all attributes of a loose cannon.

Mis: No, I'm just a reckless renegade. Sai is a loose cannon.

Sai: *smashes a chair*

---

Eco: Is having a p[cuak]nis fun?

Sai: It has its ups and downs.

Mis: Sometimes it’s a little hard.

Kira: It’s a pain in the ass.

Take: Oh, Jesus, fuck, guys, come on.

---

Kira: We’ve been conducting an ongoing study to see what Mis will and will not eat.

Sai: Grass? Yes!

Kira: Moss? Yes!!

Sai: Leaves? Ohh, yes!

Kira: Shoelaces? Strange but true!

Sai: Worms? Sometimes!

Kira: Rocks? Usually nah.

Sai: Twigs? Usually!

Kira: Take's cooking? Inconclusive!

Eco: How did you… test this?

Kira: You just hand them stuff and say ‘eat this’ and if they eat it, they eat it.

Eco: ... I don’t know how to feel about this.

Take: IS THAT WHERE ALL MY SPARE SHOELACES WENT?

---

Mis: I’ve done a lot of dumb stuff.

Eco: I witnessed the dumb stuff.

Kira: I recorded the dumb stuff.

Sai: I joined in on the dumb stuff.

Take: I TRIED TO STOP YOU FROM DOING THE DUMB STUFF!!!

---

Mis, trying to convince Toxik to join the chaos insurgency: You know... I thought it'd be good to have someone come along who's really... strong!

Y: And loud!

Koi: And grumpy!

Saeri: And oblivious to reality!

Toxik:

---

Mis: You kidnapped nix and ninf? That’s illegal!

Saeri: But Mis, what’s more illegal? Briefly inconveniencing them, or destroying our dreams?

Mis: Kidnapping announcers, saeri!!!

Y: Mis, listen, whatever I may think of you right now- these guys are counting on you to inspire them!

Mis: What, to kidnap people?!?!

Y: To work together!

Mis: TO KIDNAP PEOPLE?!?!?!?!

Koi: Mis, we all agreed an announcer is a not a people.

---

Mis: What did you guys get in your yearbook?

Kira: 'Prettiest Smile'

Eco: 'Nicest Personality'

Sai: 'Most likely to start a bar fight'

Take: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

---

Mis: Favorite horror movie?

Sai: It

Kira: Saw

Take: Annabelle

Eco: High School Musical. after watching it I spent all my middle school years terrified that the entire school would start singing something and I’d be the only one who didn’t know the lyrics

---

Mis: That's it, we're gonna go out and find what we need!

Eco: To the city?

Mis: Yeah, no matter what!

Take: Well- How exactly do you propose we do that, exactly?

Mis: I... I don't know!

Kira: Oh come off it, be serious!

Mis: I am serious!

Kira: You're insane!

Sai: Why, if only we were all wiener dogs, our problems would be solved!

Everyone:

Mis: What???

Sai: Or maybe it was a basset hound!

Kira, panicked: YOU'RE ALL INSANE!

---

Take: What does 'take out' mean?

Sai: Food.

Eco: Dating

Kira: Murder

Mis: IT CAN MEAN ALL THREE IF YOU'RE NOT A COWARD.

---

Sai: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me?

Kira: It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it.

Mis: Three of us saw it, Kira. How do you explain that?

Kira: *points at Take* Sleep deprivation. *points at Eco* Paranoia. *points at Mis* Delusional personality disorder.

---

Mis: So uhhh... my question is: my friend keeps on going into the pantry and grabbing handfuls of fettuccine... uncooked...

Sai: I would hope they're not grabbing handfuls of cooked fettuccine!

Take: In your pantry!

Mis: Yeah... and eating them raw, and they keep calling them 'chips'. ... How do I make them stop?

Sai: Is your friend here?

Mis, motioning to Saeri: Yeah.

Sai, to Sai: You're a monster! Words MEAN things! >:(

Kira: Does anybody remember- I haven't been to Olive Irk in many moons- but they DO have a like- fettuccine bottle that you can just- grab em out of and chew-

Kira: HOLD ON. WAS THIS A PRANK YOU GUYS PULLED ON ME WHEN WE WENT TO OLIVE IRK AS KIDS?!

Kira: NO, STOP. EVERYBODY SHUT UP. DO THEY GIVE YOU RAW FETTUCCINE TO CHEW ON IN THE LOBBY OF THE OLIVE IRK

Everyone else: No.

Kira, to Sai and Take: YOU FUCKIN BASTARDS

Sai: YAAAAAAAAY!

Take: THE PRESTIGE!

---

Mis: I’m an idiot.

Sai:

Kira:

Eco:

Take:

Mis:

Sai: If you’re waiting for us to disagree, this is going to be a long day.

---

Mis: Where's Sai, Kira, and Eco?

Take: They're playing hide and seek.

Mis: Where?

Take: I don't think you get how this game works.

---

*mis is in the hospital due to his health being a bitch*

Mis: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast?

Sai: Several traffic violations.

Kira: Three counts of resisting arrest.

Eco: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks.

Take: Also, that’s not our car.

---

Mis: What’s something you guys are better than Sai at?

Kira: Mario Kart.

Take: Yeah, video games.

Eco: Emotional vulnerability.

---

Mis: Good responses for being stabbed with a knife?

Sai: Rude.

Kira: That’s fair.

Eco: Not again.

Take: Are you going to want this back?

---

Mis: There are seven chairs and ten kids. What do you do?

Take: Have everyone stand.

Eco: Bring three more chairs!

Kira: The most important ones can sit down.

Sai: Kill three.

---

Mis: Nothing in life is free.

Kira: Love is free!

Take: Adventure is free.

Eco: Knowledge is free.

Sai: Everything is free if you take it without paying.

---

Sai: Looking left cause you don’t treat me right

Eco: Looking right because you left

Kira: Looking up cause you let me down

Take: Looking down cause you fucked up

Mis: What is wrong with you guys

---

Mis: Bye Eco! Bye Kira! Bye Sai! Bye Take! Bye Eco!

Kira: You said ‘bye Eco’ twice.

Mis: I like Eco.

---

Mis: Good morning.

Eco: Good morning.

Take: Good morning.

Kira: You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit.

Sai: MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS

---

Kira: Poison is a magic transmutation potion that turns people into corpses.

Sai: This knife is actually a magic wand.

Take: Meet me in the Denny’s parking lot for a wizard duel.

Mis: *cocks gun* Magic missile.

Eco: What the fuck is wrong with you people.

---

Mis: Anyone d-

Take: Depressed?

Kira: Drained?

Sai: Dumb?

Eco: Disliked?

Mis: -done with their work... what is wrong with you people ...

---

Mis, Kira, and Sai are sitting on a bench

Toxik: Why do you guys look so sad?

Mis: Sit down with us so we can tell you.

*Toxik sits down*

Kira: The bench is freshly painted.

---

Cop: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle.

Mis: Shit.

Kira: Wait, three?

Cop: Yeah?

Sai: OH MY GOD ECO FELL OFF!!!

---

Kira, banging on the door: mis! Open up!

Mis: Well, it all started when I was a kid...

Sai: No, they meant-

Eco: Let them finish.

---

Mis: Self care is actually getting into fights with randoms in dark alleys.

Eco: No, self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath, or putting on a lot of makeup if you like it, or taking a nice warm nap!

Sai: Self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you!! Self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists!! Self care is the fear in your enemies’ eyes!!!

Kira: Lmao self care is taking your birthday cake just so I can eat the frosting.

Mis: If you touch my birthday cake I’ll make you eat your hands.

---

Mis: I just ended a four year relationship.

Toxik: Oh, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?

Mis: Hm? Oh yeah, I’m fine. It wasn’t my relationship.

*Y and Koi fighting from across the room*

---

Toxik: Have you seen a person named 'mis' around here?

Domino: Ugh, yes. They made a horrible mess of the blood fountain.

Arson: It looks fine to me?

Dragon fruit: IT USED TO BE WATER!!!

---

Mis: I think Eco was right.

Kira: I'm surprised they haven't marched in here to say 'I told you so.'

Sai: They wouldn't do that.

Eco: You're right, Sai. For once in your life, you're 100% right. I would never say that.

Eco: *turns around, the shirt they're wearing says 'Eco Told You So' on the back*

---

Mis: Tonight, one of you will betray us.

Kira: Is it me, Mis?

Mis: No, it’s not you.

Sai: Is it me, Mis?

Mis: It’s not you either.

Eco: Is it me, Mis?

Mis:

Mis, mockingly: Is IT mE Mis?

---

Lex: Why are Mis and Toxik sitting with their backs to each other?

Take: They had a fight.

Lex: Then why are they holding hands?

Take: They get sad when they fight.

---

Mis: *Gently taps table*

Kira: *Taps back*

Sai: What are they doing?

Eco: Morse code.

Mis: *Aggressively taps table*

Kira: *Slams hands down* YOU TAKE THAT BACK-

---

Mis: *Trying to fill out legal paperwork stuff* Were you guys born AMAB or AFAB?

Eco: Bold of you to assume I was born at all.

Kira: all 5 of us were created inide a lab.

Sai: I just straight up spawned lol.

---

Take: Dammit, Mis!

Mis: What?! It wasn’t me!

Take: Sorry, force of habit. Dammit, Kira!

Kira: Not me either.

Take: Oh...Then who set the house on fire?

Sai: *whistles*

---

Saeri: Truth or dare?

Mis: Dare

Saeri: I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room

Mis: Hey Toxik

Toxik, blushing: Yeah?

Mis: Could you move? I’m trying to get to Range

---

Eco: Isn’t it weird that we pay money to see other people?

Mis: Plane tickets?

Sai: Concert tickets?

Kira: Prostitution?

Eco, holding their broken frames: Glasses.

---

Mis: Wake me up…

Kira: Before you go go!

Sai: When September ends…

Eco: WAKE ME UP INSIDE-

---

Kira: Everyone, synchronize your watches.

Sai: I don’t know how to do that.

Eco: I don’t wear a watch.

Mis: Time is a construct.

---

Mis: I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no clue what to put in them. Suggestions?

Kira: Put spaghetti in it.

Mis: I'm currently taking suggestions from literally anyone but you.

Sai: Put spaghetti in it.

Mis: I'm currently taking suggestions from anyone but you two.

Eco: Put spaghetti in it.

Mis: I'm no longer taking suggestions.

---

Mis: Can I be frank with you guys?

Kira: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help.

Sai: Can I still be Sai?

Eco: Shh, let Frank speak.

---

Mis: Eco, I'm sad.

Eco: *Holds out arms for a hug* It’s going to be okay.

Kira: Sai, I'm sad.

Sai, nodding: mood.

---

Eco: On the count of three, what's your favorite cake? One, two, three-

Eco and Kira, in unison: Chocolate cake peanut butter frosting with chocolate chunks!

Sai: Our turn, Mis! One, two, three- vanilla!

Mis, deadpan: I've never had cake, what is cake.

---

Mis: Toxik isn’t answering their phone

Cherry: I’ll call

Mis: Saeri and I have both tried six times each, what makes you thi-

Toxik: Hello?

---

Mis: I really like this whole ‘good guy, bad guy’ thing you guys have going on.

Saeri: It’s not an act, it’s just that I’m nice and Toxik isn’t

---

Mis: WHY. why did you give Toxik a KNIFE?!

Saeri: I’m sorry. They said they felt unsafe.

Mis: Now I feel unsafe!

Saeri: I’m sorry.

Saeri: ... would you like a knife?

---

Saeri: Mis and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by and honked at us

Toxik: *Sighing* What did Mis do?

Saeri: They chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and...

Mis: Who wants a steering wheel?

---

DL Dib: Win, my old arch enemy.

DL Zim: ... I thought I was your arch enemy?

DL Dib: I have a life outside of you, Zim

---

Mis: Please bring home PURIFIED water with NO minerals added for taste

Saeri: We got spring water

Mis: NO.

Toxik: with EXTRA minerals

Saeri: it's like licking a stalagmite

Mis: DON'T COME HOME.

Toxik: Mmmmm cave water

---

Mis: If Saeri and I were drowning, who would you save?

Toxik: You two can’t swim?

Saeri: It’s a hypothetical question, Toxik! who would you save?

Toxik: my time and effort.

---

*The squad is having dinner together*

Mis: Saeri, can you pass the salt?

Saeri: *Throws Toxik across the table*

---

Mis: What time is it?

Saeri: I don’t know; pass me that saxophone and we’ll find out

Saeri: *Plays sax loudly and extremely out of tune*

Toxik: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXOPHONE AT TWO IN THE MORNING

Saeri: It’s 2 am

---

Mis: I’m kind of crushing on someone, but I’m worried about telling you who it is, because you’re not going to like it

Saeri: Just rip the bandage off.

Mis: It’s Toxik.

Saeri: Put the bandage back on.

---

Mis: Toxik and I are having a baby.

Saeri: That's gre-

Mis, slamming adoption papers on the table: It's you, sign here.

---

Mis: In my defense, I was left unsupervised.

Saeri: Wasn't Toxik with you?

Toxik: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.

---

Mis: I trust Saeri.

Toxik: You think they know what they're doing?

Mis: I wouldn't go that far.

---

Mis: Tell Saeri about the birds and the bees.

Toxik: They're disappearing at an alarming rate.

---

Mis: Here’s a fun Christmas idea. We hang mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you have to FIGHT whoever else is under it.

Saeri: Mis no.

Toxik: Mistlefoe.

Saeri: Please stop encouraging them.

---

Mis: Sometimes I drink milk straight out of the container.

Saeri: The cow???

Mis: What?

Toxik: Saeri, W H Y?

---

Mis: While I’m gone, Saeri, you’re in charge.

Saeri: Yes!!!

Mis, whispering: Toxik, you’re secretly in charge.

Toxik: Obviously.

---

Mis, texting Saeri: Saeri! Help I’m being kidnapped

Saeri: Where are you?

Mis: I’m with some strange person. In a car. Help.

Saeri: I’ll call Toxik.

Toxik, answering their cell: Y’ello?

Saeri: Where’s Mis? They texted me that they were being kidnapped.

Toxik: Mis? Whaddya mean, they're right next to me-

Toxik:

Toxik: I’ll call you back. *hangs up*

Toxik: THE NEW HAIRCUT ISN’T THAT BAD!

Mis: WHO ARE YOU?!

[Mis hates having his hair and fur being touched and even more cut]

---

Mis: Don't worry, I got a plan.

Saeri: Alright.

Mis: TraitorSayWhat?

Toxik: Excuse me?

Mis: What?

Saeri:

Mis:

Mis: No wait-

---

Mis: If you had to choose between Saeri and all the money I have in my wallet, which would you choose?

Toxik: That depends, how much money are we taking about?

Saeri: Toxik!

Mis: 63 cents.

Toxik: I'll take the money.

Saeri: TOXIK!!!

---

Mis: Naturally, we are on the cutting edge of technology.

Saeri, amazed: Wow...

Toxik, to Saeri: Well what does that mean?

Saeri: I don't know.

Saeri, to Mis: What does that mean?

---

Mis: What do you think Saeri will do for a distraction?

Toxik: They’ll probably, like, make a noise or throw a rock. That’s what I would do.

*Building explodes and several car alarms go off*

Toxik: ... or they could do that.

---

Mis: Hey Saeri,

Saeri: Yes?

Mis: Can a person breathe inside a washing machine while it’s on?

Saeri:

Saeri: Where’s Toxik?

---

Mis: Come on, I wasn’t that drunk last night.

Saeri: You were flirting with Toxik.

Mis: So what? They're my partner.

Saeri: You asked them if they were single.

Mis:

Saeri: And then you cried when they said they weren't.

---

Mis, in a high voice, holding barbie: hey ken! I was thinking about going back to school and starting a career!

Saeri, in a deep voice, holding ken: nonsense, barbie. you’re staying home and having my kids

Toxik: what the fuck are you guys doing?

Mis: playing systemic oppression.

---

Mis: You have to apologize to Saeri

Toxik: Fine.

Toxik: 'Unfuck you' or whatever.

---

Mis: Do you ever want to talk about your emotions, Toxik?

Toxik: … No.

Saeri: I do!

Mis: I know, Saeri.

Saeri: I’m sad!

Mis: I know, Saeri.

---

*The group is getting into the car*

Mis: I’m driving.

Saeri, out of view: Shotgun!

Toxik, turning to face Saeri: Aww! But you had it on the way here-

Everyone except Saeri: WOAH-

Saeri, holding a shotgun: No! I found a shotgun! And I want the front seat! *Pumps gun*

---

Saeri: If I accidentally sat on a voodoo doll of myself, would I be trapped forever in that position, doomed to starve to death?

Mis: How am I supposed to know?

Toxik: You say, as if we don’t use you as a source of knowledge of the occult.

Mis: *sighs*

Mis: You wouldn't be trapped.

---

Mis: Saeri, keep an eye on Toxik today. They're going to say something to the wrong person and get punched.

Saeri: Sure, I’d love to see Toxik get punched.

Mis: Try again.

Saeri, sighing: I will stop Toxik from getting punched.

---

Mis: Would you stab your best friend in the leg for 10 million gold?

Saeri: You stab me, and then when my leg gets better, we buy a big-ass house.

Toxik: You can stab me too, then we'll have 20 million.

Saeri: Good thinking.

---

Saeri: Why are you on the floor?

Mis: I'm depressed.

Mis: Also I was stabbed, can you get Toxik, please.

---

Take: HELP! I TOLD MIS I’D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN’T COOK!

Toxik, pouring milk directly into the cereal bag: And you thought I could help?

---

Mis: In your opinion, what’s the height of stupidity?

Toxik: *turning to Saeri* How tall are you?

---

Saeri, at a restaurant: You guys should get the orange soda, it's amazing.

Mis: Okay

Waiter: Can I get you guys anything to drink?

Saeri: Orange soda, please!

Mis: I'll have the strawberry soda.

Toxik: Me too, strawberry soda.

Saeri:

----

Toxik: So, what, now I’m just supposed to do anything that Mis does? I mean, what if they jumped off a cliff?

Saeri: If Mis were to jump off a cliff, they would’ve done their due diligence regarding the height of the cliff, the depth of the water, and the angle of entry, so yes. If you see Mis jump off a cliff, by all means, jump off a cliff.

Toxik: You jump off a cliff!

Saeri: Gladly. Provided Mis did first.

---

Mis: We need a distraction.

Toxik: Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making weird noises?

Saeri, whispering: My time has come

---

Mis: I can’t believe you live nearby, and you won’t let anyone crash at your place.

Toxik: You people already know too much about me.

Saeri: I know exactly three facts about you, and one of them is that you won’t let any of us crash at your place.

---

Mis: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon?

Saeri: I'm a knife.

Primadonna, from across the room: They're the little spoon.

---

Eco: Mis, can I talk to you for a second?

Mis: Yeah, what’s up? Lemme guess. You and Margo are having problems and you want me to teach you how to kiss?

Eco: What? No, stop that. I know how to kiss. I’ve read books.

---

Mis: Hey, Saeri? Can I get some dating advice?

Saeri: Just because I’m with Primadonna doesn’t mean I know how I did it.

---

Toxik: What if I press the brake and gas at the same time?

Saeri: The car takes a screenshot.

Mis: For the last time, get the fuck out.

---

Mis, negotiating with Lex: We have Toxik. Give us ten thousand dollars and they will be returned to you unharmed

Toxik: Whoa, whoa, wait, you think I’m only worth ten thousand dollars?

Mis:

Toxik: MAKE IT ONE MILLION–

Mis: TOXIK STOP

---

Saeri: Who thinks I can fit 15 marshmallows in my mouth?

Mis: You’re a hazard to society

Toxik: And a coward. DO TWENTY.

---

Mis, trying to ask Range out: Would you like to stay for dinner?

Saeri: WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER?

---

Mis, driving Saeri and Toxik: So how was your day?

Saeri: We almost got surprise adopted!

Mis: What?

Toxik: We almost got kidnapped.

Mis: Oh, okay.

Mis: *slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?!

---

Mis: What's a word thats a mix between 'sad' and 'mad'?

Toxik: Disgruntled, miserable, desolated-

Saeri: Smad.

---

Toxik: Mis and I don’t use pet names.

Saeri: I see. Hey, what do bees make?

Toxik: Honey?

Mis: Yes, dear?

Toxik:

Saeri: Don't ever lie to my face again.

---

Mis: How's the sexiest person here~?

Range: I don't know, how are they~?

Mis, flustered: I-

Toxik, from across the room: I'm doing great, thanks!

---

Saeri: Mis, what do IDK, LY, and TTYL mean?

Mis: I don’t know, love you, talk to you later

Saeri: Ok, I love you too, I’ll just ask Toxik.

---

Mis: They stole from me first!

Saeri: Mhm.

Mis: Stole my heart...

Toxik: It is still illegal to commit murder.

---

Mis: I love you guys, you're the best thing that's happened to me.

Saeri: We're the best thing that's ever happened to you?

Mis: Yes!

Toxik: I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you.

---

Mis: We need to get through this locked door. Saeri, give me your credit card.

Saeri: Here.

Mis, pocketing it: Thanks. Toxik, kick down the door.

---

Mis: Fitness tip: never stop pushing yourself. Some say 8 hours of sleep is enough. Why not keep going? Why not 9? Why not 10? Strive for greatness.

Saeri: Next time you’re working out do 15 push ups instead of 10. Run 3 miles instead of 2. Eat a whole cake instead of just a slice. Burn your ex’s house down. You can do it. I believe in you.

Toxik: There were so many mixed messages in that I can’t-

---

Store Worker: Would a Mx. Mis please come to the front desk?

Mis, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem?

Store Worker: points to Saeri and Toxik

Store Worker: I believe they belong to you?

Saeri and Toxik, simultaneously: We got lost :(

Mis: I didn’t even bring you guys here with me-

---

*Mis and Saeri sitting in jail together*

Saeri: So who should we call?

Mis: I’d call Toxik, but I feel safer in jail

---

And thats all for today folks!

Remember to drink water and touch some grass.

Crow out

[bump1nthen1ght]

Late Night Favor (Shadow Monster x Reader)

Genre: Fluff, Urban Fantasy

Warnings: Explicit content up ahead (18+ ONLY), Oral, Fingering

Word Count: 4000 Words

Summary: A couple of small good deeds leaves you with a late night visitor, looking to repay a debt.

Request: "You unknowingly rescue a shadow monster and bring it home with you, after a couple days of lurking in the shadows of your home and recuperating it shows you just how thankful it is." I had this idea forever ago but was never able to execute it. My opening idea was that a few kids are shining flashlights at something, tormenting it, and you swoop in to save it and chase the kids away. You thought they were hurting a cat or something, but find nothing and head home.

What do you think? Would you like to take it on? I'd be honored if you would 😊

A/N: *Throws this into the street to appease for the fact I haven’t updated Out of the Woods in THREE MONTHS IM SORRY*

It was the perfect weather for a lazy day inside. The pitter patter of the rain on your window had almost lulled you back to sleep during breakfast, and the thunder had provided great ambiance for reading. You hadn’t bothered changing out of your pajamas and we’re enjoying a soap opera binge on the coach when the peace was disturbed.

At first it was just the sound of clattering trash cans, not uncommon from the alley outside your window. But then it was followed by the raucous laughter of teenagers, rocks being thrown against the concrete, and a sharp hissing.

You hoist yourself up and off the couch, meandering toward the balcony, expecting to see a bunch of kids fucking around; Maybe using the cover of the fire escape to hide from the rain and smoke some weed.

Ah, memories.

But instead, you see a huddled group of boys pointing a flashlight into the pile of garbage right by the dumpster. One of them picks up a pebble and throws it into the light beam, causing another hiss and a jerk of movement. The boys laugh even louder, the one on the right nudging the one with the flashlight.

“Dude, do it again!”

Flashlight agrees, quickly moving the light into another corner as the one on the left throws a rock in the opposite direction. A shape of pitch black hisses again, deterred by the rock and scared by the brightness. Your brow furrows.

“Hey!”

The boys jump, looking in all directions.

“What are you three doing down there?” They finally look up at you, messy-haired and bleary-eyed. They shrug and ignore you, one even throwing another rock, bigger than before. There’s a sad yelp as it collides with the blackness.

You grit your teeth, grabbing your jacket off a nearby shelf and yell again.

“Fuck off! Leave the poor thing alone!”

They all laugh insufferably, the way most stuck up teenagers do.

“Or what?”

You shrug on your raincoat, picking up the baseball bat you keep strategically placed by your couch.

“Or I’ll come down and make you, jackass!”

You kick open your  fire escape, slippers already damp, and start marching down the staircases. The boys get the message and run away, still jeering and laughing. Seems you weren’t as intimidating as you’d like.

You shuffle down the fire escape, slowing down as you approach the poor creature. You lower your back and peak under the dumpster.

“It's okay, little guy, I won’t hurt ya.” You set down your bat and crouch, kissing your lips as you hold out your free hand. All you see is a hint of glowing eyes, nervously peering out, before the dark shape disappears completely, hidden by the shadow of the dumpster. You’re tempted to sit down and wait for it, hoping to check if the poor stray was injured, but the wet concrete looks unappealing. The bottom of your sweats are already drenched.

You stand up, sigh, and go back up the fire escape. You unlatch the dusty pet door on your sliding glass balcony and make sure to leave a hot thing of milk and some water just outside. You ponder going out to get cat food, but the well-timed weather report tells you to stay off the streets. Slumping back down on the couch, you keep on eye on your fire escape, hoping that whatever it was, it’s okay.

--------------

The next day is sunny, the rain clearing away any air pollution and leaving blue skies to shine down through your window, waking you up extra early. As you sit down with a cup of coffee, switching on the news before starting work, you notice the empty bowls on your balcony.

You set down the mug, walking over to the door and checking the bowls. Seems that little stray had needed the refreshment, as both were licked clean.

You refill them, making sure to add  cat food to your grocery list.

--------------

After a long day of work, you’re feeling particularly domestic and decide to bake some cookies. Your brain is sore after staring at a screen for eight hours straight, a simple task like this is the perfect thing to keep it from melting completely.

You open up your window, letting the cool night air into your kitchen as you check  on your baking cookies. Wiping flour off your pants, you turn on the radio and throw a glance to your living room.

You had set up a tiny blanket pallet right next to your pet door, the weatherman’s warning of another thunderstorm tonight having you worried for your stray. Hopefully a full belly of milk will convince them that your house is safe enough to find shelter in.

But the afternoon is beautiful, not too cold and not too hot, only the slight tang of metal in the air hinting to rain. With a ding from the oven, you take out the cookies and set them on a cooling tray on your window. The smell of cinnamon and sugar wafts over you as you take a sip of your tea, staring out into the city streets. Small puddles still speckle the pavement, catching the headlights of nearby cars and flashy billboards.

A quick sound, something hitting your balcony door, that jerks you out of your reverie. You set down your mug and slowly peek out from your kitchen, wondering if you should’ve grabbed  a kitchen knife. But it’s just your pet door, flapping back and forth in front of two, now empty, bowls. Aww, seems your stray took a step inside. Too bad you missed it.

The gurgle of your stomach convinces you to take a crack at the cookies. If they were too hot, you could just wash them down with a nice glass of milk anyway. Maybe even put on a sitcom while you snack.

You lightly tap the top cookie; Warm, but not unbearable. Steam rises as you break it open, blowing in the middle and taking a tiny bite.

Fuck, good job _____.

They’re perfectly done, just soft enough to melt in your mouth. You grab two more, holding them in between your fingers as you hold the other half in your mouth. Maybe you could bring the batch into work tomorrow, give your coworkers a nice surprise. That is if you didn't have 10 tonight. But 20 should be just enough-

Huh, that’s weird. There's only 19, including the one still dangling out of your mouth.

You could’ve sworn you baked 20.

Well whatever. Your coworkers can handle not coming back for seconds tomorrow.

--------------

“Ow! Fuck!”

You bite your lip, trying not to yell out more curse words as you rub your stubbed toe. You limp to your kitchen, fumbling for the light switch to avoid another incident. All you had wanted was a midnight sweet snack, was that so difficult? You’d thought you could navigate your apartment pretty easily in the dark, but the pain in your foot says otherwise.

The light flickers as you finally find the switch, reminding you that you’re going to need to change the bulb sometime soon. But that's a problem for another day; Right now, it’s cookie time.

You don’t bother pouring yourself a glass or getting a plate, devouring the treat in three bites and throwing back a quick swig of milk. It’s almost midnight, not like anyone’s watching-

Oh, wait.

You slowly close the fridge door, trying to make as little noise as possible so as not to wake the little stray curled up, asleep. The little ball of black was snuggled into the pallet, tossing and turning. A flash of lightning cracks outside your apartment, washing your living room with light. The ball jerks in shock, the thunder afterwards only frightening it more, forcing it to curl up even tighter.  

You take small and light steps towards the tiny bed, not wanting to approach the scared beast too quickly. The room is lit up again by another lightning strike and the little stray forces it’s body backwards and away from the window. You crouch down real low, the small bits of light helping your eyes adjust to the layout.

“How are you doing, little guy?” You whisper, mostly to yourself, tapping your fingers against your carpet. Part of you wants to pet it, but think it might be better not to. No need to startle it. “Is the lightning scary? You can come to my room if you want, I’ll protect ya.”

Midst the black, you see two little eyes, little blips of light that open with another flash of lightning. But they aren’t yellow, nor are they slitted, nor are they anything remotely animal.

They're like the headlights of a car, blinding white with no definition at all. Not even pupils. You're startled, eye’s widening as the creature lifts it’s head. A long smile runs across their face, full of razor sharp teeth.

“Oh my, that sounds delightful.” They purr, and you find yourself losing your footing and falling back on your ass. Your fingers dig into the carpet as their body slowly begins to unfurl out of a ball and stretch into a massive form, as if their whole size had been hidden away somewhere else; Like it had been literally in the shadows.

You scramble backwards, breath picking up as the creature stretches it’s long limbs, colorless eyes still locked onto you as it stands up and up. It rolls back its shoulders as it sits on its haunches, its form still towering over you even when crouched. You notice the shades of huge antlers sticking out from the side of their head, only adding to their intimidating height.

The creature still has that terrifying smile, all canines and no molars, it’s unblinking eyes still staring deep into your soul.

You’ve heard people do weird things in times of high stress, of strong emotions, good and bad. Like the wires in your brains get crossed when trying to find the right response.

“Uh, do you want a cookie?”

You think you get that now.

The creature chuckles, a soft timbre that echoes unnaturally.

“No, dearie, I have already indulged in your confections. You see,” They creature leans forward, falling to its knees to crawl towards you. If it weren’t for the overwhelming fear constricting your heart, you’d almost think it was seductive, “You’ve done so much for me these past days, I think it’d be only fair if I helped you indulge in a far-” The creature’s face looms over yours, their arms caging your sides as they lick their lips, “-sweeter treat, yes?”

Your eyes search their face, trying to find signs of trickery or malice, maybe even some demonic sense of humor.

As if I’d even know what that looks like.

“Are you-” You catch a breath, now noticing the fine musculature of their shoulders, and the definition of their arms, “Are you propositioning me, like, for sex?”

The creature laughs again, their eyes crinkling up as they throw their head back. But when they look back down at you, you can almost feel the lust radiating off their gaze, details be damned.

“Yes, lovely, I am.”

You take your eyes off their face, a little too overwhelmed to stare directly into their blistering expression. Not to mention the blinding light which has begun to put red spots into your vision.

Instead, your eyes fall upon their thick thighs, the small tail waving behind them, and how unnervingly sexy you find the way their claws are digging up your rug.

You slowly move your head, catching the creature’s eyes.

“I-uh-I guess? Yeah, yeah I guess that sounds good. Um, what was your name?”

The creature smirks, a single claw tipped finger tilting up your chin, as they whisper,

“Nocter.”

--------------

Well, this is definitely the weirdest way I’ve gotten someone into bed.

Nocter’s antlers brush against your stucco-ceiling as it pushes you down on the bed, their shining white eyes staring deep into yours. Their lack of pupils is almost unsettling, but when they run their claws down your chest and pinch your nipples, you find it hard to care. You bite your lip, fighting back an embarrassing whimper as they trace one finger around the bud, pebbling the skin.

“Aww, has it been a while, sweetling?” You roll your eyes, but let out another squeak as they flick their thumb across your other nipple, the palm of their hand pressing against your ribcage.

“M-maybe.” You mutter, digging your finger into your bed sheets as their hands dance across your skin. One pulls up the bottom of your pajama shirt as it nudges one of their legs in between your thighs, pushing their knee up against your crotch.

“Don’t worry,” They push the fabric up to your neck, laying a kiss on the center of your stomach, then your chest, and then your jugular. When they plant one on your jaw, they lean in real close, “I’ll make sure to treat you right.”

Nocter’s long tongue splays against your jaw, licking a stripe up your cheek as one of their hands moves from your chest to the waistband of your shorts. They slip a couple fingers underneath, lightly petting the area right above your crotch. They’re such a tease, and you love it.

Nocter pecks the side of your face, over and over, while their hand moves further and further down your body at an agonizing pace. Their hot breath sends goosebumps down your neck, washing over your face as they exhale with every kiss. You catch them off guard when you turn your head toward them, catching their lips-mid peck and eagerly sticking your tongue outward. They purr with delight, their thin almost-lips quickly devouring you.

A long string of saliva connects the two of you as you detach, taking the time to shimmy out of your shirt. You pull them closer, your hands digging into their shoulder muscles and fingers just brushing over the long ridges on their back. They chuckle once again, pulling their fingers out your shorts and merely digging their palm into the fabric of your crotch.

“Eager, huh?”

“Shut up,” You mumble in between kisses, “This is for me, isn’t it?”

“Ohoho,” kiss, “Someone’s showing their feisty side a little early.” kiss, “What happened to my benevolent, saintly saviour?” kiss.

You pull away from their lips, quickly latching onto the crux of their neck and taking a nip. “S’not fair.” You say, taking a deep whiff of their skin as you suck and bite. They smell like brimstone and a bonfire, not quite what you 're expecting, but not unpleasant. “You can’t tease me like that and not-” Your cut off as the pad of one Nocters fingers presses up against your entrance, the fabric only amplifying the sensation as they begin to tease it.

“Deliver?” Nocter finishes, sinfully smug. You throw them a glare. “I’m a good guest, scout’s honor.”

You roll your eyes right before they lock you into another kiss, rubbing the pads of their fingers up and down your crotch. They use their hand to push you backwards, sinking deeper into the mattress as they situate their knees under your thighs. One they pull back from the kiss, your face and lips thoroughly debauched, your legs are splayed up on their pelvis and they easily slip off your bottoms. Nocter takes a whiff of your underwear, the crotch now slightly damp, giving you a wink before they throw it over their shoulder.

You jerk your hips slightly upward, and Nocter tuts.

“Patience, sweetling.” They roll a hand down your abdomen, fingers splaying onto your stomach, nails just teasing the skin. With a kiss to your inside calf, Nocters hand ghosts across your entrance. You can’t help biting your lip, the heat and their touch sending your mind into a frenzy.

They continue a path of kisses down your leg, now pressing their finger right up against your hole. They only pause to suck on their index and middle fingers, coating them with a heavy and blue-tinted saliva. Once they’ve reached the middle of your thigh, nipping at the apex, they sink into you.

Nocter’s fingers are long, articulated and move with sure movements. They start off slow, scissoring you open, simpering as you dig your nails into your bed sheets. The pads of their fingers push against your walls, just grazing sensitive spots as they make a slow ‘come hither’ motion. Your hips jerk forward, humping into their palm. They smirk against your skin, nipping another love bite as they retract their fingers until only the tip remains. You catch your breath, holding it until they sink back into you, shoving their fingers forward with far more force.

You whimper as their fingers pull back, only to follow with quicker thrusts. Nocter’s aim is pin-point in finding the most pleasurable spots inside you, the feeling only amplified by the pinpricks of their teeth into the fat of your thigh. The tip of their tongue licks hot trails of spit tantalizingly close to your hole, which clenches around their bony fingers. The slick sound of your juices, the skin of their palm slapping against yours, is downright pornographic.

Your legs try to clamp around their shoulders, the overwhelming stimuli triggering an instant reaction, but Nocter pins your right leg down to your bed easily, never losing focus on fingering you. The tips of their claws trace the inside of your leg, the hard edge of their wrist digging into fat.  Your fingers reach to grip around something, anything to keep you grounded as the knot in your stomach grows tighter and tighter. They find their way around Nocter’s left wrist; You’re almost afraid you’ll leave bruises, before remembering how sturdy every part of their body seems to be.

You let out a whimper as the crests of an orgasm seem to overwhelm you, nearly gasping as Nocter quickly removes their fingers. In any other state of mind you might have made a comment, look down and wonder why they’ve stopped. But the heat in your belly compels you to grip their wrist tight and to throw your hips upwards. With a desperate breath, you plead,

“P-please! Please, don’t stop.”

Nocter doesn’t chuckle, doesn’t make a sly remark about your neediness or your lewd movements. They lean forward, giving another kiss right below your navel, and pet your wrist.

“Of course, dearie.”

With a wink, they lean down a lick a long stripe up your hole, giving one last kiss to your leg before plunging their tongue inside.

You didn’t think it was possible for them to reach even deeper inside you with their tongue than their fingers, but the sparks which fly in your core say otherwise. The ridges of Nocters tongue brush against your walls as they flick the appendage back and forth, the tip pressing forward with controlled motions. It doesn’t thrash back and forward haphazardly, but reaches for those sensitive spots and plays with them.

“Oh, f-fuck!” You yelp, feeling an icy-cold liquid run down your ass. From the sound of smacking lips and muffled moans, it must be Nocter’s saliva. They let out a groan, pushing their jaw forward as their eyes clenched shut. The hand on your leg pinches skin as it tightens up, the other pressing your hips down, but the pressure they apply is phantom at best. Nocter seems to revel in your pleading humps for more, meeting each movement with a thrust of their jaw, the base of their tongue stretching you open.

The two of you keep that rhythm for what feels like an eternity, but is probably only a couple of minutes. Sweat drips down your chest and off of your belly, your legs muscles on fire as you continue to push upward and into Nocter’s face. You start feeling that impending wave begin to crest again, with your limbs shaking and your throat hoarse.

“Nocter, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna-I’m so close!”

This time, Nocter doesn’t let up on their pace, reaching one hand down to deliver a hard slap on your ass and forcing a yelp out of you. Your speech devolves into slurred curses and your hands move to touch them, to find some grasp in reality. Nocter continues to suck and tongue-fuck your hole as your thighs clench around their head. Your humps are tiny and weak, your lower half barely holding itself up.

The knot gets tighter, a firecracker fuse about to blow in your abdomen. In the heat of the moment, your hands find their way to Nocter’s scalp and grab onto the base of their antlers. Their moan rumbles through you, right before you yank their head forward, their tongue hitting the deepest part of you as you shutter and-

“I’m cumming!”

Another moan vibrates against your hole as your body shudders and jolts, your hips still pressed firmly against Nocter’s face. But in the next moment, a heavy weight falls over your body, slumping you down onto the bed. Your chest heaves, eye’s fuzzy as Nocter’s tongue ‘pop’s out of you.

Your gaze wanders over your stucco ceiling, droplets of sweat rolling down your neck as you try and catch your breath. You can feel Nocter’s large hands rolling a massage into your thighs, their own heavy breathing brushing over your crotch.

A fuzzy shape of pure black comes into your vision as Nocter hovers over you, their body hovering just an inch above yours. They give you a small peck on the cheek.

“Feel good?” They whisper.

All you can do is nod, your shaky hands wandering over their back. There’s no sign of sweat on their skin, but you can feel the heat running off of it as they nuzzle into your neck.

As your fingers dance over the ride of their back, you can hear the rumble of a low purr coming from their chest, but they stay hovering over your body. You press your hands into their back, applying weak pressure to encourage them to relax.

“It seems I’ve repaid my debt.” Nocter murmurs into your ear, pushing themselves up onto their hands, pulling even farther from you as their eye’s look around your room. You keep your hands wrapped around their waist, stopping them from fully getting up. They look back to you, white eyes slightly widening.

“Would you-” You take another deep breath, “Want to stay? For the night?”

Nocter stares at you, the black void of their face almost unreadable. But when they run a claw down the side of your face, it burns with affection and longing.

“Would you want that?”

Your room is nearly pitch black, only the lights of the street peeking in between your curtains. Nocter’s body seems to absorb all light near it, their hot body like a heating pad. But their eyes are so bright, so full, so mesmerizing; Like a full moon on the dark city sky.

“Yes, I would.”

Nocter’s nods, their expression barely changing, but you think you can see a hint of a smile amidst all the black. They let their body relax, pressing their chest against yours as they sink into the sheets and nuzzle back into your neck.

You can smell the sweat coating your body and feel the way you stick to the sheets. Frankly, the both of you kind of smell.

But it doesn’t stop you from snuggling into Nocter’s body, eye’s heavy as you peacefully fall into sleep.

[wandaownsthisass]

Late Night Appetite -- Wanda Maximoff x Reader

a/n: So this is porn w/out plot. Established relationship & Wanda is coming home horny and missing reader. Just straight up smut honestly - and I'm not sorry about it!!!

-- Had this on my mind for like a week so I hope it turned out ok, let me know if I missed any warnings. Suit I had in mind is pictured below bc I can’t get enough of it.

Words: 1999

Warnings/notes: NSFW. 18+ Only. Swearing, use of powers, strap-on sex, choking, lil praise kink, switch reader.

“Baby? Where are you?” Your girlfriends voice rang out through your shared apartment, the sound of the front door closing behind her.

You’re standing at your dresser, searching for pajamas to wear as you just finished a shower. You had the luxury of the apartment to yourself for the evening, as Wanda was at a local event with the rest of the team. 

It wasn’t long before a pair of arms wrap around your waist, “Mm I missed you. You smell good” 

“I missed you too, and you smell like alcohol” You laugh, taking her hands off your waist and turning around to face her.

You hadn’t seen Wanda all day, so when you noticed what she had chosen to wear, you had to force your eyes from dropping to her cleavage. Wanda was smirking though, knowing all too well this suit was your weakness.

“I may have had a few drinks, I had to do something to keep myself awake. I don’t think they helped with keeping you off my mind though...” 

Wanda’s hands lower to your ass, squeezing gently before you laugh once again, pushing her off you slightly. 

“Someone is horny tonight, why don’t you shower, and I’ll make you something to eat?” You suggest, in which your girlfriend pouts for a moment before agreeing.

“Fine. Better be good though” She kisses you briefly before making her way to your shared bathroom.

Changing quickly into a pair of shorts and one of Wanda’s t-shirts, you make your way to the kitchen and start making some food. You have faint music playing in the background, which Wanda uses to her advantage sneaking up on you. 

A pair of hands firmly grasp your waist, startling you. “Ah! Wans, you can’t do that”

A warm giggle warms your heart before she speaks up, “Sorry I couldn’t help myself”

It isn’t long before a pair of lips attach themselves to your neck, sucking harshly causing you to moan, and you feel Wanda smile against your skin before running her tongue over it. 

“I see you’re still horny” You say, pushing against Wanda to tease her, but it seemed that Wanda had other plans.  As you push back against her, you freeze almost immediately as a hard object pushes back against you.

“Something wrong malyshka?” Wanda purrs into your ear, pinning you fully against the counter now, trapping you.

You clear your throat subtly, the thin fabric of your shorts allowing you to feel every inch of the toy. 

“I take it you’re not in the mood to eat anymore?”

“I wouldn’t say that…just have an appetite for something else is all”

With that Wanda doesn’t waste another second before spinning you around to face her, her right-hand cupping your face gently, running her thumb over your lips. Her eyes are dark, full of lust as she enraptures your lips. You groan, before pulling back taking her bottom lip in between your teeth.

Her other hand is pulling at your shirt, and you take the opportunity of her wandering hands to catch her off guard. Palming roughly at the toy, it’s your girlfriends’ turn to moan, involuntarily bucking her hips into you, “Fuck”

“Do you like that baby?” You tease against her lips, grabbing the toy roughly again.

She kisses you hard, wasting no time to slip her tongue into your mouth. You slip your hands into her sweatpants, pulling hard against the harness wrapped around her hips, pulling her into you once again. 

Wanda breaks away for air, staring at you intensely, the moonlight being the only thing lighting up the kitchen at this point. The glistening of her skin mixed with the lighting warms your heart, your eyes dropping down to her lips and she smiles back as your thoughts enter her mind.

“I love you” She whispers.

“I love you too”, your eyes flick up to hers again, “Now please take me to the bedroom”

“As you wish”

You yelp as Wanda effortlessly picks you up, with the assistance of her powers, and carries you towards your shared bedroom. Your back hits the comforter lightly as she lays you down. Grasping onto Wanda’s shirt tightly, you yank her towards your body, kissing her messily as your desires start to overwhelm you. 

Wanda picks up immediately, your shorts discarded within seconds and you groan as she pulls away from your lips, running her hands slowly against your stomach before coming to rest at the edges of your thighs. Her thumbs rubbing circles on the insides of your thighs for a moment, before spreading your legs apart roughly. 

She growls, “You’re so wet for me already”

You whine, pushing your hips up slightly, hoping she’ll take the hint.

“Patience baby girl, let me appreciate you”

“I need you Wanda”

She cocks her head, her fingers suddenly running through your folds, “And what happened to me being the horny one? Hmm?”

You can’t answer, the feeling of her fingers against you being too much to handle. Luckily, she doesn’t tease for much longer before two fingers enter you roughly.

“Shit” You gasp, your head slamming back into the mattress. Your hips rock immediately, following the rough movements of your girlfriend, her fingers exiting completely before slamming back into you.

The familiar tightness rises quickly in your belly, and you’d normally be embarrassed at how turned on you were but the sight of your fully dressed girlfriend fucking you was the only thing on your mind.

“Come for me” She commands, curling her fingers, hitting the spot perfectly as you come undone. 

Your eyes peel open at the right moment, watching her glistening fingers enter her mouth, eliciting a deep moan from the redhead.

She doesn’t give you a second to recover before climbing on top of you, discarding your shirt somewhere on the floor, and reaching down towards her own pants. She slides them down enough for her to pull the toy out, and you make eye contact briefly before a loud moan falls out of you, the dildo driving into you roughly. Pausing for only a second, letting you adjust, she layers your chest with kisses, murmuring hushed words in foreign tongue against your skin. Your hands curled into the blankets below you for something to hold onto, preparing yourself for what was to come.

“I’m going to make you feel so good” She says quietly, before her hips pull back and thrust into you, hard. A grunt forces itself out of your body from her sudden movement, your back arching against her immediately. 

Wanda didn’t pause again, instead continuing her movements again, and again, each time entering you with more force, your hips falling into rhythm with hers. One of her hands snaked its way to your throat as she repositioned so she wasn’t lying on top of you, instead allowing herself to see all of you as she fucked you into the mattress. “You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat”

Your eyes were shut as you moaned again, “Wanda, god you-“ 

Her grasp tightened as she kept up her relentless movements, you could hear how wet you were, the dildo slipping in and out with ease.

“I what baby? You’re such a good girl for me, you have no idea how hot you are right now”

You could feel yourself getting close, your pussy tightening with each thrust of Wanda’s hips into you. You were loud, Wanda’s name and moans pouring from your lips, you thought you couldn’t handle anymore of her before her grasp released from your neck, one traveling down to your nipples, palming roughly. You gasped at the sensation, your eyes opening to see Wanda’s lustful eyes replaced with a deep red, her other hand was raised for a moment as red wisps flowed from her fingertips towards your pussy. You felt a tingling sensation on your clit, as you watched her fingers dance, “Fuck, I’m-I’m so close”

It didn’t take much more; a few more deep thrusts, the overstimulation of your clit, and her lips now attached to your breasts, you came completely undone. You moaned Wanda’s name a final time, louder than before, and came hard, clenching around the toy as she continued her movements. She kept up the pace for a moment, as her head fell into the crook of your neck, her own hips beginning to lose their rhythm. You knew her body too well, aware she was about to come, you lowered your hand to her hips, your palm coming down roughly across her cheek. You did it twice more, making sure this time the contact was a little harder, leaving bright red marks in reminder. 

She moaned your name, praising you as her hips faltered and pushed up into you as she came. You ran your hand through her hair, pushing it away from her glistening skin, kissing her neck as she rode out her orgasm.  

You both lied there for a moment, before Wanda raised her head, staring down at you. Your hand was rubbing her back under her shirt, scratching lightly against her skin. 

“How are you doing up there?” You say, your voice hoarse.

Wanda smiles, kissing you gently. “That was hot” She answers, giggling against your lips.

“Oh, we’re not done baby”

Her brows furrow before she lets out a yelp, you flip Wanda on her back straddling her hips effortlessly. You crawl downwards, pulling her sweatpants off fully of this time, “Y’N what are you-OH” 

You don’t give her a second before wrapping your lips around the toy strapped to her hips, humming as you taste yourself. Drawing out the movements, Wanda watches you intensely, propped up on her elbows, her hand coming down to aid you, grasping your hair tightly. 

“You look so pretty like this” She praises, and you release the toy with a pop before licking from the base to the tip, eyeing her as you do so. 

You’re aware she can’t feel any of it, but you feel proud as you watch Wanda’s head fall back and groan. You’re rubbing her thighs softly, and pull away from the toy, reaching to undo the harness. She helps you do so, and it isn’t long before the dildo is thrown onto the ground, replacing the toy with her pussy, your lips enclose around her clit, sucking harshly against her. 

“Y/N, fuck”

You don’t let up, licking broad strokes up and down her pussy, tasting her on your tongue you moan against her, which causes her hips to buck up into you. You moan again as your hair is grasped roughly, pulling at the nape of your neck as you continue your attack. You continue your relentless movements for a little more, before Wanda’s body tightens and you clean her up as she comes undone on your tongue.

Wanda pulls you back up to her, and you kiss her again, her tongue slipping into your mouth, tasting herself on your lips.

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk after that” You say, falling against her body. 

“Good. You need to remember who you belong to”

“As if I would want to belong to anyone else, only you can make me come that fast baby”

You’re kissed again, sighing into her lips this time. Her hand reaches down, stroking your face with her thumb. 

“Now about that food?”

You roll your eyes, slapping her lightly across her face she catches your wrist immediately; her soft eyes turning dark as her grip tightened, “Careful printsessa, keep this up and you won’t be coming as easily next time”

Quirking your brow, you stare back, “Whatever you say Wanda���

You knew you made a mistake, but in moments like this you couldn’t help but push her buttons. And you did just that. 

A flash of red released from her fingertips as your hands flew back, pinning you down against the mattress. 

“You have no idea what you’re in for kotenok”

[eddiemunsonssoulmate]

Let's make this moment worth the while

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You and JJ never liked each other. Kook vs Pogue. He annoys the shit out of you and yet you're trapped with him in the basement of the Cameron mansion.

Warnings: Smut, lowkey hate fuck

Available on: AO3

Part of: Passion lies in screams of ecstasytic dreams

This wasn’t something you had planned or expected.

Not at all.

He was standing in front of you, fuming with anger. His face had a hint of red, his jaw was locked tight and a strangled growl left his throat.

For a moment he looked almost feral there.

“Calm down, Maybank,” you said with an annoyed huffed, looking at the locked basement door above you. He acted like this was your fault when it was clearly his.

You could hear the music and voices from above.

A normal party at the Cameron mansion. Music, alcohol, drugs, Kooks and Pogues mingled together.

Just like in this small basement where Ward stored his wine. You had been here with Sarah a couple of times. You should have known she had planned something. The second you had entered the door to the mansion earlier, there had been this smug smile on her lips but she wouldn’t tell you why.

And now here you were with the boy you hated with a burning passion. You knew the Pogues and got along with them okay-ish. Pope was the best one to deal with, you knew Kiara for quite some time, John B was okay, he was Sarah’s boyfriend after all but JJ? No fucking way. He was crazy, reckless, infuriating and for some reason, really hot when he did stupid things.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he growled back at you after a long moment and turned around, going up the stairs to knock against the door once more.

You could swear the music just turned up just a little bit louder.

“Fuck!” he yelled, slamming against the door with his fist one more time before going back downstairs.

“No reason to get so angry, Pogue. They’ll need new wine eventually.” You leaned back against an almost empty shelf with a sigh, shaking your head. This was stupid and had been planned.

‘Oh y/n, can you get some more wine? The bottle is already empty. There’s the Romanee Conti 1945 somewhere in the right corner, that would be amazing.’

You could still hear Sarah’s voice in your head, it had sounded strange earlier, way too sweet, way too nice and now you knew why.

“Why did they send you down anyway?” You tilted your head a little to the side and looked at the boy who had sat down on the steps of the stairs, glowering at you.

“Red cups but I don’t see them anywhere here,” he grumbled from where he was sitting. His comment made you laugh, which only made him glare more at you.

If he would have been here before, he would know there wouldn’t be a single red cup around. Probably John B’s idea to make up this ridiculous excuse.

You kept your words to yourself and sat down, leaning your head back against the shelf.

Silence wrapped itself around you two and you held his stare for a moment before looking to the ground.

You didn’t even know why you hated him so much or why he hated you the same way. Nothing bad had happened between you two when you met for the first time, Sarah introducing you to the Pogues. She was your best friend and wanted you to get along with her new friend group, which you did...except JJ.

His vibes just didn’t fit with yours, you guessed. Two different people from completely different lives. It should have been a normal dislike, a normal ‘We don’t get along’ but for some reason you just needed to see him and you got angry. His stupid smirk, the way his hair fell into his hair after the rain had poured down, the way his jaw clenched when someone made him angry, the way his throat bobbed briefly when someone mentioned his father.

“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath, hating yourself for even noticing these little things about him. You didn’t even spend that much time together, barely knew anything about him and yet it felt like you already knew more than you wanted to know.

When you looked up you saw that he was still looking at you, leaning back on the stairs, his jaw still tight.

“What?” you snapped at him, not feeling comfortable with him staring at you the way he did.

“I’m just wondering,” he started and there was an edge in his voice that made you stand up the moment he did.

He walked toward you, coming to stop right in front of you, putting his hand on the shelf behind you, caging you in.

Your body tensed, you didn’t like this one bit. Men trying to get power over you was always a bad sign but you’d handle him. It was just Maybank after all.

“Wondering if this wasn’t your plan all along,” he finished his sentence, his face way too close to yours. You felt your cheeks redden a little bit, feeling the heat from his body.

You’d be a liar if you’d say he wasn’t attractive in his own, stupid way.

“Why would it be,” you hissed and put your hands on his chest, pushing him back a little, your jaw tightening when he stumbled back a little. “Do you think I enjoy being here with you in this small ass basement? Tourist girls might swoon over you and you think you’re the greatest around these parts but I’m not one of them.”

A smirk appeared on his lips and he took a step forward again, once again invading your personal space.

“At least they have a good time,” he said with a chuckle and you rolled your eyes, turning your head so you wouldn’t have to look at him.

You knew the stories about him. Picking up tourist girls, sometimes two at a time, spending the night together and then never seeing them again.

“Yeah that’s what they think because they’ve got nothing to compare,” you huffed out, arms folding over your chest. From the corner of your eye you saw his body going a little tense, knowing you’ve hit his ego with what you’ve just said.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about anyway,” he suddenly replied with a shrug. “Not like you know what’s down there.”

You couldn’t help yourself but look back at him, looking right at his stupid grin. Your look turned into a glare which only made him grin more.

“God, you’re really getting off at making me angry.” You threw your hands up in the air, wanting to go around him to slam your fist against the door yourself but he blocked your way.

“Let me through, Maybank,” you hissed in anger but he once again put his hands up on the shelf behind you, caging you with his full body.

“Maybe I do.” His voice wasn’t low and had something in it that you couldn’t quite place. “But I know you do too.”

He would not win this, not with this smug grin on his lips.

His body was pressing more against yours, his leg between yours, his face only inches away.

You couldn’t stop the heat that was starting to pool between your legs. Fuck. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction but the way he stood here, so close with no one else around, his heat radiating off his body, his face so close.

“You might be right,” you suddenly blurted out without thinking and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him into an aggressive kiss.

JJ gasped in surprise as if he didn’t expect to get this reaction out of you but answered to the kiss with the same aggression.

The kiss involved a lot of biting and nibbling, two people trying to dominate the other only to pull back for a breath at the same time.

His eyes had darkened, his lips were swollen but it only took him a moment to recover.

He put his hands under you, lifting you up against the shelf behind you, pressing your back into the old wood while you wrapped your legs around him.

What a fucking bastard.

Now this felt more like this was his plan after all but who were you to deny getting the sexual tension and hatred out for once.

You started to fumble between the two of you, trying to rid the both of you of your pants. His slipped down easily, just swim trunks and boxer shorts but you had at least tried to look good here.

He noticed your struggle and put you down for a moment so you could push your pants down, kicking them off. You were about to pull your knickers down too but he already hoisted you back up.

“What the fuck,” you whispered in surprise but your legs wrapped around him already.

“Might need to dress quickly if they decide to check on us. Wouldn’t want them to find us like this,” he growled against your lips and you huffed. He initiated this and now he didn’t want to be found like this? Bastard.

“Yeah, probably for the better,” you agreed and kissed him again, your lips almost hurting already from the vicious way you two attacked each other.

The blonde boy shifted a little, moved his hips while holding you tight and with a swift movement, he had moved your knickers aside and slipped inside of you.

You moaned into the kiss which he only took as an invite to push his tongue inside once again while he filled you to the brink.

The tourist gossip was no lie. He was indeed quite packing, you felt the sweet stretch, the balance between pain and pleasure. He wasn’t ripping you apart but you were also feeling quite a bit of filling.

You moved your arms up to hold up on the shelf behind you, the wood digging into your back when he started to thrust into you. It was as if he wanted you to feel how much he despised you, every push on his hips forceful and almost bruising but you didn’t mind. You wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

You could feel your tits swinging quite a bit, only dressed with a bikini and a small top above while he kept up his merciless pace.

For some reason you hadn’t thought about him having that much strength to hold you up and push inside of you with that much force.

Not that you had thought about him doing this to you before. Not at all.

A groan left your throat in frustration when you realized that you were too good at lying to yourself when it came to him. Another groan followed when he hoisted you up a little bit more, almost letting you fall back on his dick, hitting the sweet spot that made you see stars.

“Fuck, you feel better than expected,” he growled and leaned forward to kiss your neck, leaving small bites. Not biting hard enough to bruise but so that you would feel them for the time you were in here.

“You expected this?” you asked with a smug tone in your voice but your only answer was another deep, painful thrust inside of you that made your back arch forward.

He had anticipated this, thought about it like you did but he was very angry about it. Seems like you two were not so different when it came to that. Two sides of a coin, maybe.

His bruised lips kissed and nibbled across the soft skin on your neck and shoulder, his hardness tickling your insides the right way.

Your moans filled the small room, the air getting more heated and sticky but thankfully the music above was way louder than the two of you.

This would be your secret. No one needed to know this. You would go out of here later as if nothing had happened.

Your breath got short and irregular, it was feeling as if he was thrusting the air right out of your lungs with the pace he had picked. He clearly had experience doing this. You hated thinking about it.

One of your hands sneaked between the two of you, rubbing against the bundle of nerves, only driving you higher up, your mind fogging.

A growl left his throat when he noticed what you were doing and you could swear he was only forcing himself in harder, deeper and even faster. It was brutal and you were sure he would leave bruises over your body.

The way his hand gripped your hips hurt, the shelf pressing into you, his hips snapping against yours.

Your body started to twitch when you came closer and you were almost falling when you heard his voice. “Don’t you dare to finish before me.” It was almost a feral growl that spoke, not really sounding him like. He was out of breath, sweaty and almost desperate to spill his seed inside of you.

Normally you would have done it anyway, who was he to tell you what you had to do? But this time, you stopped listening to him. Something about his attitude towards you in this moment made you listen to him.

You hated it.

Then you moved your hand up to his face, the two fingers you had used to rub yourself running along his cheek before tapping it against his lips.

He glowered at you before opening his mouth, taking your fingers inside and swirling his tongue around them, licking your wetness off them without stopping to look at you.

You moaned at the obscenery in front of you and a low moan left your mouth. His body was twitching around you and you could start to feel yourself apart.

“Now come,” he whispered around your fingers, still licking them more tenderly than expected.

He pulled almost out completely, leaving you empty and whimpering for a moment before pushing back inside of you in one long, brutal movement, making you see stars as you fell apart around him.

You didn’t hear how a few bottles fell from the shelf, shatting beside you, all you could hear was a loud moan filling the room and you could feel yourself blushing when you realized it was yours.

He gasped and growled when he felt how your walls were clenching around him and soon enough you felt the hot cum spilling inside of you. It was warm and comfortable and you hated that you felt this way.

JJ leaned forward briefly, putting his forehead against yours before letting you back to the ground.

You almost fell forward, not able to stand, your legs shaking from the brutal abuse your body just had to deal with.

You’d be a liar if you didn’t say you loved every second of it.

“We made a mess,” you mumbled when you finally saw the broken bottles on the ground. Ward had stored so much expensive wine here, this would at least be 500 bucks or above. Not that you cared, you didn’t like this man. “We did, especially you,” he chuckled and you turned your head to glare at him but he was just pointing at his dick that was dripping with your wetness, following the drops of cum, sweat and your own juice down to the ground where you could also see a wet spot.

Your face turned crimson red from embarrassment and you looked away, trying to straighten your knickers only to realize that his cum would drip right into them when you kept them on now.

You shot him a glare and he seemed to know exactly what you meant because that smug grin was back on his lips, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I fucking hate you,” you groaned and picked up your pants, already feeling how his seed was dripping out of you and into the fabric of your panties.

“I know you do. Felt good though but then again, it never happened, right?” he asked with a shrug before putting his pants back on too.

Right when you two were dressed again and you were about to reply to him, the door opened and you saw Sarah and John B standing there.

“Oh there you are! I was looking for you!” Sarah said and walked down to you, wrapping you into a hug only to pull back and look at you with a knowing grin.

It was hard not to know. The small room smelled of sex, sweat and wine, your hair was a mess, your lips bruised. It took one look of someone with three brain cells to know what had happened here.

You glared at her. “I didn’t find the wine,” you said and she laughed, walking up the stairs with you.

“That’s fine, it seems like you’ve found something else,” your friend replied with a snicker and you groaned at her, shaking your head but couldn’t help but laugh.

[princehrry-writings]

Legal Guardian

ugh this took way too long lol, but here it is!!! i forget exactly that sparked this but i thought it was a cute idea.

warnings: injuries (nothing major), hospitals, cursing, harry being a protective dad 🥺, talks about adoption and legal guardians, crying

wordcount: 2481

harry styles x reader, stepdad!harry x reader, stepdadharry x oc!stella

masterlist

Stella gets hurt and Harry is the only one there- but he has no legal jurisdiction…

.

.

.

It all happened really fast. Harry can’t even recall how it started, but he knew very well how it ended. A sobbing Stella strapped into her car seat as he raced to the emergency room, frantically calling Y/n who was in a different state on a work trip.

The 5 year old didn’t understand what was going on, she just knew she was hurting… really bad. And that she wanted her mommy and daddy.

The traffic seemed to be working against him, getting in his way at the most inconvenient times, all the while he was trying to console his weeping daughter, crying out “Daddy it hurts so bad!” effectively shattering his heart into a million little pieces.

Stella had been playing happily in the backyard at home, showing off her wonderful dance moves to Harry who watched with an adoring smile on his face, taking little videos to send to his fiance, when suddenly she was laying on the ground, clutching her ankle, and crying for him to come get her. He rushed into action, not having seen her take the fateful step into what must have been a hole in the ground or something.

Screeching into the hospital car park, he stops somewhere he obviously wasn’t supposed to but he couldn't care less. His mind was racing. What if she broke her ankle? Or tore a ligament? What if she has to get surgery? All of this is what he worries about as he flings the back door of his car open, trying his best to appear calm for his daughter (but it’s not really working), and scoops her carefully into his hold, bringing her inside and shouting for someone to please help him.

A few nurses rush to his side, asking him different questions and asking for someone to “Page Dr. Robbins, tell her we need a peds consult.”

Stella is whisked away from him and before he can start to follow after her, a hand is placed on his chest, stopping him in his place.

“Sir, we can’t have you in the room with her. You’re not on her file as a legal guardian!” A doctor tells him. In that moment, he sees nothing but red, steam pouring out of his ears.

“The hell I can’t, I’m her father! I’m not going to let her sit in there all alone while strangers poke and prod at her!” He all but yells at the man. Harry is not violent. He really isn't. But he’s not afraid to lay somebody on their ass when it comes to his girls. With kindness or course. And maybe a black eye.

From the room she was taken into he can hear her crying for him.

“Wan’ my daddy! Daddy!” Harry didn’t think his heart could break any further than it already had but he was proven wrong by the ache in his chest that only grew stronger the longer he was kept away from his lovebug.

“Doctor, respectfully- if you don’t move the hell out of my way, I will move you myself. That is my daughter, and my fiance is in a different state right now on a business trip so I am the only parent she has right now. If you try to keep me from my child I will take legal action against the hospital and sue for everything you’re worth. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Harry is seething, trying to move past the man in the white lab coat and light blue scrubs. Again, he is stopped.

“I will call security, sir!”

“DADDY!” Stella is now screeching, her little voice hoarse from all the yelling and crying.

“Don’t you fucking hear that? She needs me, and you’re telling me I can’t go be with her! What the hell kind of doctor are you?” Harry is in the man's face, pointing at him vehemently. He doesn’t care that people are starting to watch the scene. Doesn’t care that some people have recognized him and are recording the ordeal. Let the people see him fighting for his family. He doesn’t give a rat's ass if his “image” takes a hit. His daughter is on the line and he won’t back down.

“She’ll be fine-”

“No she won’t! Go ahead and call security. My daughter needs me and you’re not going to stop me from being in that room with her.” With that he pushes past the doctor (who must be an intern or something with how he’s handling this situation) and rushes into the room where his baby is screaming for him. He’s at her side in a matter of seconds, wiping the tears from her face, peppering kisses onto her head, petting her wild hair back from her face, just consoling her in any way that he can.

How fucking dare they try to keep him from her, especially when she’s in a state like this.

“It’s ok baby girl, daddy’s here now. I’ve got you. You’re ok, you’re ok!” He mumbles into her hair, doing his best to stay out of the way of the people examining her but still close enough so she knows he’s right there with her.

Little tears still streamed down her face but she was much calmer now, her breathing more even and body less tense.

“Mr. Styles we’re bringing in the portable x-ray to take a look at her ankle, so you’re going to need to wear this.” He nods and takes the vest given to him, putting it over his shoulders like he sees the others do. A similar article is placed over Stella, who is clinging to Harry’s hand, fearing that she’s going to have to be without him again. But he promises he isn’t going anywhere.

As they’re taking the x-ray his phone starts ringing in his pocket and he checks to see that it’s Y/n calling him back.

“H, what’s wrong, is she ok?” Her panicked voice rushes out as soon as the call connects.

“We’re in the ER right now and she’s getting an x-ray to see what’s going on with her ankle-”

“You’re in the room with her right? She’s not alone?”

The little shards of his heart keep breaking into smaller and smaller pieces as her voice breaks.

“Yeah, I’m right next to her. Don’t worry m’love, she’s not alone!” He glared at the doctor that tried to keep him out as he said that, letting him know he hadn’t forgotten.

“I’m gonna facetime you so I can see her.” She said and he nodded, waiting for it to come through. When it did he quickly accepted it, seeing the love of his life’s face on the screen, with her puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks as she wiped away the remaining tears so she didn’t freak out her baby.

“Stell, mumma’s on the phone, she wants to talk to you.”

“Hi baby girl!” Y/n said as soon as Harry held the phone so Stella could see her mom. The little girl's tear stained cheeks looked exactly like her moms, and her heart broke for her baby.

“Hi mumma,” Stella pouted into the camera, clutching onto her daddy as tight as her little hand could. Harry was a little uncomfortable but he would take this over not being in here at all.

“How do you feel, baby? You ok?” She asked.

“My foot hurts and they wouldn’t let daddy in here and I was scared, but he’s here now so I’m ok.” The little girl rambled off. Y/n almost missed how she said they wouldn’t let Harry in the room but when it finally registered, she was fuming. Absolutely, royally pissed.

“What do you mean they wouldn’t daddy in there?” Stella shrugged and looked up at Harry for an answer. He brought the phone back so he could see her after looking around at the doctors in the room, all doing their job and pretending they weren’t listening to this conversation, but a few of them winced when Y/n asked her question.

“Some bloke tried to keep me out of the room while Stella was being examined but she was on the verge of a whole breakdown. It was like Disneyland in Paris all over again.” He said, referencing the time Harry took his girls to Disneyland while they were in Paris and Stella got separated from her mom and dad. She had never not been able to see at least 1 of her parents before. Needless to say… she didn’t handle it very well. Screaming, crying, and hyperventilating (which freaked her out even more- causing her to scream louder and cry harder) ensued very shortly, disturbing every person around her. But it made it easy for them to find her and she spent a very very long time clutching her tiny arms around her daddy’s neck, not letting him set her down for anything. That was an interesting trip to the bathroom …

“Why would they try to keep you out of the room? You’re her father!” Y/n was on the verge of popping a blood vessel. Of course the one time her baby really needs her, she’s hours away.

“Uh, Mr. Styles, I’m so sorry to interrupt! But the x-ray is complete. There’s no break, it looks like a sprain at worst. Also, about why my intern was saying you weren’t allowed in the room, not that I was listening to your conversation, with ped’s cases we typically only allow legal parents or guardians in the room and your name isn’t anywhere on her file or on her records so he was just trying to follow safety protocols. He didn’t go about the situation as well as he should have because we always want to make sure our patient has what they need and that was obviously you- but that is the reason why you initially weren’t let into the room. You’re not a legal parent or guardian. Based on your situation- you’re legally considered a step-parent and that title doesn’t come along with any legal jurisdiction.” Dr. Robins explained, in quite a few words Harry thinks, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Just sits and realizes that while for the better part of a year and a half, he’s been calling himself Stella’s dad but the whole he’s not been anything… not legally anyway.

Y/n realizes this too and makes a mental note to call their lawyers to do something about that.

“That makes sense… Thank you, Dr. Robbins! I have her mum on the phone, but you knew that, so if there’s anything else I legally can’t do, she’ll have to take care of it like thi-”

“Mr. Styles, we won’t tell if you don’t! Anything else that needs to be signed, we’ll just go ahead and have you do it. Save the hassle for everyone.” Dr. Robbins interrupts him and he smiles, silently thanking her.

“Daddy, what's a legal guardian?” Stella asks after a quiet moment.

“A legal guardian is someone who takes care of you because the law says they can. So because I didn’t help mumma make you and I came into your life a little later, I’m not a legal guardian of you. Not yet anyway.” He mumbles the last part but Y/n catches it.

“Does everyone have a legal guardian?” She hiccuped, rubbing at her eyes with the hand that wasn’t clutching Harry’s.

“At one point yeah, but once you get older you don’t need one anymore because you can take care of yourself.”

The girl pauses, thinking about her daddy’s words before muttering “Don’t wanna take care of myself. Wanna stay with you and mumma forever.”

All the little shards of his heart slowly start to piece back together.

“I want you to stay with me and mumma forever too lovebug.” He cooes. Y/n’s eyes light up, her gaze filled with adoration for her little family.

. * .

*

“The documents are all drawn up Mrs. Styles, everything is ready for your husband to sign.”

“Thank you so much Ben!”

. * .

*

“Baby, c’mere. Wanna talk to you about something.”

“Yeah mommy?”

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to quell the tears she could already feel threatening to fall. Her newly wed husband sat beside her on the couch, running his hand along her back and squeezing her shoulder and letting her know he was there if she needed him.

“Do you remember when you and Daddy had that conversation about legal guardians?” The woman asked, pulling her baby into her lap, brushing her hand over the girl's hair affectionately.

“Uhhh, kinda.” She murmured, curling into her mom.

“Do you remember what a legal guardian is?” Y/n rephrased, hoping to jog the girl's memory. Stella nodded and when prompted by her mother explained that “It’s someone who takes care of you until you're old enough to take care of yourself.”

“That’s right baby, very good!”

“And do you remember when we were at the hospital and that doctor was being mean, not letting Daddy into the room with you?” Harry chimes in, scooting closer to his girls. She nodded with a roll of her eyes and a huff of breath, causing a little giggle to erupt from her parents. She really is her mothers daughter.

“Didn’t like him.” She mumbles.

“Do you remember why they didn’t let him into the room?” Y/n asks, knowing she should probably get to the point before her little one checks out and gets bored.

“Cause daddy’s not my legal guardian.” Stella huffs again, rubbing her eyes and nuzzling further into her mom.

“Do you want him to be?”

Stella’s quiet for a moment, tapping her little finger on her chin like she’s thinking hard. “Yeah.”

“Yeah? You want that baby?” Harry asks, pulling her into his lap. The girl wraps her arms around his neck and lays her head on his shoulder, nodding.

“Yeah, Daddy. Want you to be able to come to the doctors with me.” She mumbles sleepily.

The tears Y/n had been fighting off finally broke through, despite her efforts. It’s official. Harry is going to adopt Stella and they would be a family in every sense of the word. No one would be able to take Harry's little girl away from him. All he had to do was sign the paper. Harry felt tears spring to his eyes as well, smoothing his hand along his baby’s back.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that…” He says, squeezing her a little tighter. Y/n snaps a quick picture before she snuggles into them.

“Love you Mommy, love you Daddy.” She murmurs before falling asleep in Harry's arms. Something that isn’t new, but feels different now for some reason. Things felt a little more official and he hadn’t even signed the papers yet.

[gayhoediaz]

five fave fics

tagged by @ekstasisandangst (who is absolutely right, self promo is always the way to go,) and @loveyourownsmiilee 💕

stupid people.

160k | E | Buck/Eddie

New in Los Angeles, and having recently admitted to himself that he's gay, Eddie figures that hiring a sex worker might be a good way to keep his private life cut off from his job and his son. A way to keep things from becoming too complicated.

It works. For a while.

moonlight, nightmares, and tearful confessions

9k | E | Buck/Eddie

“Want me to tell you that I can’t fucking sleep? Ever? That I’m terrified - every single day of my life, because I came back from a warzone, only to be shot in the middle of the day, on a busy LA street, and I had to realize that I’m not fucking safe? Which means my son isn’t safe? Which means none of the people I love, will ever be safe? That it could happen again?”

Buck stays silent - although somewhere, in the back of his mind, some part of him is saying 'Finally.'; is saying 'Thank god. Let him break. Let him break, so that I can break, so that we can break together, and then heal together, and finally - finally - start to leave that day behind us.'

blood in, bleed out

214k | E | Ian/Mickey

The year is 1954. Tony Bennett is on the radio, Marilyn Monroe is on the silver screen, and as Ian Gallagher is about to find out - the Ukrainian mafia is in full swing.

thunderstorms, candlelight, and filthy words in the dark

12k | E | Buck/Eddie

The wind is screaming louder now, the rain pours and pours with no sign of slowing down. The thunder is getting a little bit louder with each time it rolls.

It doesn’t matter. It’s all outside. Inside, it’s warm. Inside, it’s safe.

nightskies, crickets, and whispered words of love

1.9k | E | Buck/Eddie

Buck wants this, he thinks. Always. Forever. Not just this, though - not just a best friend, and his best friend’s child - he wants more. As he stares up at the sky, he lets his mind drift to the thought of soft kisses, and lazy morning sex. Rings. Perhaps even a larger house someday - more children, if that’s something that Eddie would like. He thinks of reading glasses, and aching joints, and stray grey hairs.

It doesn’t scare him anymore. In fact, he’s not even all that worried about the feeling being mutual. It is. He knows it is. They’ve never actually talked about it, but he can sense it. He can sense it in the lingering touches, and the eye contact that nowadays always seems to last just a second or two longer than it needs to. He feels it in the peace they’ve found with each other.

I don’t know who’s done this or who’s been tagged so, if you don’t want to, just ignore this but @fearlessdiaz @mmtions @eddiessluttytanktop @eddiediazes @eddiediass @imsupposedtobewritting @eddiediazisascorpio

[sinner-as-saint]

Purpose.

Mob!Bucky x Reader AU 

Requested. 

Run-through: You have an argument with your boyfriend and you call him out on all of his shit. You’re sassy and rude, and the mob boss can only tolerate so much disobedience. So when you turn around to leave, he doesn’t take it very well. And given you’ve been running your mouth all this time, he shuts you up and shows that sassy little mouth its true purpose... 

Themes: FILTH, smut, daddy kink, dirty talk, oral sex

You and Bucky have been bickering all day. 

Even at the party; anything he would say or do would simply annoy you. This all started this morning due to his grumpy mood which then rubbed off on you and now, by the time you both made it home - you were straight up arguing over random stuff

“You’re being all crazy. I don’t even know what we’re arguing about.” 

“Shut up.”

And it would simmer down for a few minutes, but then you’d be at it again. Arguing over useless stuff for no reason; both of you frustrated and running low on patience. 

“Baby, calm down.” 

“Don’t ask me to calm down, you started this with your shitty mood.” 

You walked into the living room, pissed off and wanting to get away from Bucky but he had been following you around the house ever since you two got home.

“Will you at least tell me what I can do to make it better? Even though I don’t know what I did and you refuse to tell me?” 

“Leave me alone, Bucky.” You went over to the mini bar and tried pouring yourself a drink but Bucky interrupted you even then. 

“No.” His voice was firm and deep. “What the hell is going on right now-,” 

You cut him off by rolling your eyes and moving away from him to grab a glass. You heard him sigh and swear under his breath. Something along the lines of ‘bitch’. And that set you off. 

“What the fuck did you just call me?” 

He sighed again, “Nothing.” He tried walking away but you called out after him. 

“You wanna know who’s a bitch? You. Because you couldn’t take your eyes off someone else’s girl tonight.” You didn’t mean to say that, but your anger got the best of you. You had gone over this earlier and he had made it clear that no, he wasn’t staring at another woman all night long. 

He narrowed his eyes at you, sending you a glare which should’ve shut you up but didn’t. “Watch your words, and your tone.” 

You let out a dry chuckle. “Why? So you can just be a manwhore but I can’t raise my voice? Screw you!” You turned around to leave the living room, the drink you were making yourself long forgotten. 

You heard him call out for you. “Don’t you dare walk away from me! Come back here and we’ll fix this. Right now!” He sounded irritated. But you didn’t stop. 

You walked upstairs and packed yourself an overnight bag. Tonight, it seems you’d be spending back at your apartment instead of at your boyfriend’s lavish mansion. You didn’t care, you needed to be away from him. His very presence was pissing you off. 

You grabbed your bag and made it downstairs in the span of a few minutes. He was by the bar, finishing off the drink you started making earlier. He turned his head sharply once he saw you. “Where do you think you’re going?” 

You kept walking, ignoring him; knowing he hated it so much when you did that. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked, louder. 

You stopped for a brief moment, turned to send him a dirty look. “Away from you.” 

He clenched his jaw and crossed the living room to get to you but you had already begun walking towards the front door by the time he reached you. He ran to you and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you into his strong chest. You got a whiff of his perfume and tried your hardest not to give in. His cologne had always been a weakness of yours. 

“You’ve been running your mouth all day, and all evening. And now you think you can just leave?” He sounded pissed too, his patience running low. 

You managed to get your arm out of his grip, he let you, thinking you would apologize or walk back inside so you two could fix this but instead you glared at him and turned around to walk away again. 

“Oh you think you can just-,” he couldn’t believe the audacity you suddenly had. “Come back here!” He grabbed you by your hand again, snatched the travel bag out of it and threw the bag somewhere before dragging you back to the living room. 

He had to carry you for the last few steps because you were screaming right at his face. 

“Enough!” he grabbed you gently by the jaw and stared into your eyes with his deep blue eyes making you shiver. “You’ve been such a brat, I can’t believe I’ve been able to tolerate your behavior for so long.” He pulled your face closer to his, and you immediately stopped resisting. “Get on your knees.” 

You didn’t do so immediately, which made him raise an eyebrow at you; intrigued by your unusual disobedience. “Oh? So you’re gonna resist me now?” He leaned in, trailing the tip of his cold nose across your cheek. You shivered again, closing your eyes instinctively. “You’ve been such a bad girl today.” He whispered in your ear. “Been running that sassy little mouth…” he spoke as his thumb traced the outline of your lips, definitely smudging your lipstick. 

You swallowed audibly, anticipating what would follow. 

He pulled away and smirked. “That’s all you need right now I believe. You just need daddy to help you out of that sour mood, don’t you babygirl?” His voice was already calming you down, but you refused to give in just yet. Even though you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist him for long. 

He chuckled. “Think you can just be mad at daddy for no reason? How cute…” he tightened his grip on your jaw. “Get on your knees, now. That sassy mouth of yours has been getting me on my nerves all day. Think it’s about time I teach you a little about it’s true purpose, huh?” 

You didn’t say anything. He smirked. “On your knees, now.” 

You quickly sank down to your knees in front of him. You were grateful for the fluffy carpet you knelt on, because who knows how long he’s gonna keep you on your knees. He spoke up again. “Now come on, we both know what else that pretty little mouth is good at other than being sassy. Show me.” 

Your hands hurried to undo his belt, unzip his pants and lower his underwear to free his erected cock. The mere sight of his thick cock had you whining with need, but this wasn’t about you. This was about proving him right. 

You wrapped your hands around his cock and placed your mouth on his tip; your tongue slowly circling his tip. Bucky slid his hand into your hair and grabbed a fistful of it; tugging on it gently and slowly pushed himself deeper into your mouth. “There we go, take it. Take all of me. This is all you’re good for, isn’t it baby?” he threw his head back and let out a strained moan. “All you’re good for is sucking daddy’s cock…” 

You bobbed your head around his tip; taking him in inch by inch until he hit the back of your throat. You kept your eyes on his face as you sucked on his cock. He closed his eyes momentarily, lips parted and gasping as he tilted his head back. He looked majestic. He moaned as he pushed himself deeper into your mouth, fucking it like he owned it. 

“This is all you needed, isn’t it you little brat?” He taunted, grunting and tugging on your hair. He bucked his hips forward into your mouth, and loved the sight of your spit coating his cock as you gagged just a little. You looked so pretty on your knees, he thought, taking him perfectly.

You repeated your actions again and again, hollowing your cheeks. The growls and moans which escaped his lips made you squirm and it only added to the dampness which was forming in your underwear. And his dirty, dirty mouth… 

“Keep going babygirl, come on… show me what that mouth is good for.” He quickened the pace at which he moved in and out of you; eager to chase his orgasm.

“That’s right, it’s only good for sucking daddy’s big cock, isn’t it?” He twitched against your tongue and you tasted some of his pre cum.

“You’re such a good little slut for daddy, aren’t you? See how easy it is when you shut up and behave, and do as I say?” He swore under his breath as you dragged your tongue over the slit on this tip very lazily.

The moment you slowed down a little, you earned yourself a gentle smack on your cheek. It made you squeal in surprise. “Did I ask you to slow down, kitten? No I didn’t, keep going.” He growled when you sped up again. 

“Look at you squirming,” he chuckled darkly. “You just need daddy to fill you up, don’t you? You’re desperate for daddy to just fuck you, aren’t you baby?” 

His words made you whine, and you discreetly tried to slide your hand down through the slit of your dress and touch yourself but before you could, he caught you. “Put your hands where I can fucking see them!” he hissed and tugged on your hair, making your moan with your mouth full of his cock. You immediately removed your hand from under your dress and placed them on your lap instead. “Don’t you dare touch yourself. Bad kittens don’t get to play with themselves while sucking daddy’s cock, you understand me?”

You nodded. Well then… 

You knew you were walking on thin ice here, but you couldn’t resist teasing him. He was already ‘punishing’ you, what else would he do? 

He caught the mischief in your eyes as you took him out of your mouth, licking his cock from bottom to top while your hands toyed with his balls. He looked down at you with a warning in his eyes. 

“Don’t tease me, kitten,” he growled, looking down at you with his intense blue eyes. 

 Those words were all it took for you to take him back into your mouth. You felt the veins of his firm cock ramming in and out of your mouth. You felt his muscles tightened under your touch, and you knew he wouldn’t last much longer. So you quickened your pace, and he moaned over and over again as he reached his high.

With one final, rough push into your mouth, you felt him come undone. His cum trickled down your throat and you swallowed him obediently. Slowly, he pulled himself out of your mouth and bent down to look at you from up close. Your lips were swollen, and spit ran down your chin along with his cum. You were panting; an overall mess. 

You were much calmer than before, he could tell by the look in your eyes. “Not so bratty anymore, are you?” He asked, standing up straight and held his hand out for you to take. “Up. Come on.” 

You took his hand and stood up, your knees felt weak but luckily he held you tight against him. “I don’t like punishing you, babygirl. You know that, right?” 

You nodded at his words. 

He stroked your cheek with his thumb, softly. “But do you agree that you’ve been bratty for no reason today?” 

You nodded again. 

He smirked. “Well then, you deserve a proper lesson, don’t you kitten? Go wait for me upstairs,” he leaned in just enough to make your heart race, but not kissing you yet. “I want you naked on the bed when I get there, you hear me?” 

You nodded. “Yes, daddy.” 

He smiled, kissing you on the side of your mouth; making you whine in need.

“Good girl.”

[ncitygirls]

yours - jaemin x f reader

fluff, smut, bffs2lovers, 3k

before joining you to your cousin’s wedding, jaemin had made a big deal about not being properly invited. as always, mark kept true to his habit of innocently causing trouble when it suited him. ‘i’m like family! where’s my invite!’ but it was hard to fault mark, because of course jaemin had been invited. somehow, his parents neglected to inform him that your cousin had rightfully assumed jaemin would know he was included in the na family’s invite. you said nothing though. especially when jaemin had briefly explained the reason for his displeasure. ‘we deserve our own invite, y/n. one for us together.’ which made no sense at all, because you’re just friends. you’re not together. however you had no idea you were alone in thinking that.

you see, jaemin was more acquainted with your family than some of your own relatives. he was invited to christmases, weddings, birthdays. basically any and all occasions your family saw fit to celebrate, jaemin was in attendance. yet surprisingly, even after having grown up alongside you and mark, a few of your more distant cousins were more than happy to express their displeasure with his more forward placed seat. because, like you keep reminding everybody: jaemin is just your best friend. but apparently, best friends didn’t reserve the rights to things you gave to jaemin. not in your extended family’s eyes. not that yours and mark’s family cared.

yet in the end, like most things regarding you, jaemin knew his attendance tonight had been a mistake. but not because of the petty feud his presence birthed in the lee lineage. oh no. it’s because, unlike most nights jaemin spends in your company - with your hair strewn about, mascara permanently smudged, and a lazy grin etched on - tonight, you were his least favourite kind of y/n. the one where he can’t help but follow you with his eyes, watch the placement of your feet, enjoy the shrill tone of your cackle. throughout the night, jaemin had found himself warmed by the way you drag your balled up fist over your made up eye, how you sing along to songs you don’t know the words to, how you wobble in your heels before you cling to him.

jaemin makes the mistake of enjoying you a bit too much. how you scowl as your relatives chat shit a bit too loud for you liking, how you make a scene of conspicuously covering his ears, unaware of how unbothered he is. how you try so hard to make him happy, in the smallest and largest of ways. so he drags you into a dance when you move to walk over, ready to rip your own blood a new one. “i’m gonna kill ‘em.”

“no,” he states simply, one of his hands slipping from your hand to your waist. “dance with me.”

“who do they think they are!” your voice adopts an unsettling shrillness that he can’t help but chuckle at. it even throws his head back. “why are you so happy? you should be mad!”

“because i don’t care,” he shrugs, tightening his hold on you slightly. “i’m here- you’re here. why would i not be happy?”

“you’re such a fucking leo.”

he still doesn’t know what that means, but he laughs anyway, happy that your deduction seemed to satisfy you. you eventually calm down, a peace settling over you as he spins you lazily around the dance floor. there’s some early 2000s track playing, one definitely unfitting for the way he’s swaying you. but you pay it no mind, speaking softly as he presses his cheek to the crown of your head.

“when do you wanna head up?” up, meaning the hotel room your relatives are also wound up about. it was intended for the bridal party and far travelled guests, neither of which they are. and neither of which you are. but you were your cousin’s favourite. and so was he. so naturally, you two had one reserved. even your parents had opted to stay at a cottage a couple roads over. “i think the boys are all gone already.”

he notes the guilt tainting your tone, knowing how drained jaemin grew from both physical and social interactions of any kind. so you knew well what his answer would be. “when you’re ready.”

“okay,” slipping out of his hold, you drag him over to the newly married couple. you exchange brief goodnights and grateful tidings before he excuses himself to find the jacket of his tuxedo. the search doesn’t take long, his eyes landing on the black coat a few seconds after parting. he does give himself a breather though, his knees cracking as the seat holding his jacket readily carries his weight. he doesn’t dare shut his eyes, knowing full well he’ll fall victim to his fatigue. so instead, he let’s them follow the one thing that always occupies his mind, that can keep him up all night. he finds you far quicker than he did his coat, the pink satin of your dress falling half way down your calf as you skipped over to bid some other guests farewell. he sighs happily, glad you never force him into such tedious pleasantries. you learnt a long time ago that while impossibly affectionate, jaemin’s social clock ticked a few hours faster than any one else’s. so by your timing, it had probably expired a little after the vows. it took a little bit of getting used to, but it also meant for quicker farewells and a speedier exit.

it’s only now jaemin realises this was a mistake. because before he ever gets his breather, less from you, but all the feelings that come from being with you, you’re at his side. he’s learned how not to cease up at your touch anymore. instead, linking his fingers with yours when they rest gently on his shoulder. when he peeks up at you, his eyes blinded less by the party lighting and more by your tired smile, he knows not to sigh, forcing down his body’s natural response to your attention. but when you tug at his hands, bringing him to stand, whispering a-

“let’s go home, yeah?”

he knows this isn’t a mistake. this is torture.

it’s how you pour him a tall, ice cold glass of domesticity with every meal. your hand wrapped in his as you lead him through the hotel. you slip out of your heels somewhere between the lobby and the elevator, grinning up at him as he takes them from you. jaemin even curses himself, his body responding to your needs unthinkingly. he tries to calm his beating heart by counting the floors, his eyes following the analog dial as you lean against his shoulder, fiddling with his cuffs.

“do you want them off?” you ask softly, barely a touch louder than the elevator music. he nods, though your gel nails are already picking at the gold, removing them with ease. “gimme the other one.” he inhales deeply, cursing whoever gave you to him. well, not really. you weren’t really his. but god did you act like it.

your hands slip into his pocket for the room key before slipping back into his hand. he just follows you out, caught in a happy daze as you take him ‘home’. you struggle a bit with the key card, trying it every which way before he leans into you, wrapping his arm around you as he reaches for the card. “the arrow’s pointing this way,” his thumb nail presses on the black arrow indicating the direction you have to push it. he doesn’t see you roll your eyes, but he guesses you do. so he presses his lips to your temple in apology. “you’ll get it next time.”

“piss off,” you laugh, pushing the door open when it clicks. he throws the heels and jacket on a chair by the door before collapsing onto the adjacent couch, his body ready to succumb to his dire need for rest. he can just about hear you rustling through the bags in the bathroom, your feet padding around on the linoleum. when it muffles slightly, he figures out immediately what you’ve returned for when you stop between his thighs. “thank you,” you sigh, his fingers already pinching at the zip on your dress. it sits low at the base of your spine, the back of the dress leaving you completely exposed. he’d taken to placing his hand there all night, his fingers gliding up and down the skin whenever he got the chance. when it’s down, his eyes linger on your hips, the top of your panties peeking out before you slap his knee.

“what?”

“the necklace,” your back is still turned, hair blocking his view. “please?” you add, hand smoothing over the skin of his knee.

“come here,” he pulls you down to sit between his thighs, his legs parting to make space for you. you land with a huff, quickly realising you haven’t sat down all night. jaemin realises this too, your neck craning a bit further to the side than necessary as he tucks your hair over your shoulder. “you okay?”

“mhm,” you hum, squeezing his thigh. “just a bit sleepy.”

“a bit?” he laughs, a little breathless as he gathers the chain he got you one christmas. “i think you’ve earned a good sleep.” he surmises, hands squeezing your shoulders gently. “but you know you were a guest today, right? not the planner?”

“yeah?” turning onto your knees, you glare down at him. “someone had to sort my uncle out, he was steaming!”

“yes, true,” he laughs. “just make sure you’re not doing that at my wedding.”

you feign surprise at that, “i’m invited to your wedding?”

“of course,” his hands squeeze yours earnestly before he whispers, “can’t have my wedding without the bride, can i-”

“fuck off!” his cackles chase you out the room. while you wash up, he makes quick work of his tux, throwing his slacks over the back of the couch, his thumbs slowly unhooking each of his buttons. a true man of leisure, he’s in all but his socks and draws when you return. “all done!” you sing, throwing the dress down as you reappear in an oversized t-shirt. he recognises it almost immediately from uni. it’s his soccer team’s jersey. it has his number on the back.

“finally,” he whines, pushing you aside as he makes his way inside, quickly locking the door to avoid your attacks. he goes to reach for his wash bag just to find the reason he did already waiting unpacked. in a small cup on the side is his toothbrush, resting sweetly beside yours. he ignores the hygienic implications of this and skips right to the romantic. because, while jaemin thinks and often dreams of placing your first name with his last, and while he spends most of his free time with you, and while he would take any number of bullets for you, he still can’t for the life of him figure you out. even after he bombards you with affection, praise, teasing, flirting, kisses. you’re still just you. making him just him.

and that’s fine, if that’s what you want. but he’s not sure he truly knows what it is you want. and this gets him thinking about the little things. how his hand is seldom empty in your presence. how you never think of him second, always first. how you want to be with him always. moments like now, when he returns to find you hanging his tux on its hanger, encasing it in its protective sleeve. his arms slip around your waist, pulling you flush against him. and you melt instantly, resting in his embrace. “thanks,” he mumbles, lips pressing gently to your shoulder.

“‘is okay,” you hum, hanging it over the back of the door before resting your hands over his. see, hands never empty when you’re near. he sways you back and forth, his heart beating gently into your back as you lean into him. “did you have fun?” you ask, squeezing at his forearms, “i know we probably stayed later than you’d like-”

“it was great.” see, always putting him first. “did you want to stay longer?”

“not without you.” see, how you want to be with him always. he wonders how you don’t see it. how you don’t see you’re killing him. “come on,” you mumble, shutting off the light as you blindly drag him to bed. jaemin has an annoying habit of following you in, his body shuffling in after yours, rather than separating and meeting in the middle. it doesn’t allow you much room, by the time you reach your side, he’s encased you in his arms, legs, even his head, his chin slotting itself in the crook of your neck. “nana?”

“hm?”

“i’m sorry about today,” the apology doesn’t shock him, but rather your disappointment. “you’re more like family to mark and i than they ever were. tonight was just proof of that.”

“it’s okay,” he squeezes you a touch harder, trying to decipher whether your words harm or soothe the growing hole in his heart. “i can’t say i don’t see where they’re coming from.”

“what d’you mean?”

“i dunno,” he starts, thinking as his lips press to the back of your neck. “i guess i’d be confused by us too,” he mutters against your skin.

“how so?” you press, turning in his hold, gazing up at him. his eyes are more than used to the dark now as he gazes back down at you. you’re tucked right up to him, the covers strewn over your lower halves. he rests his temple on his palm, elbow pressed into the mattress as you fiddle with his fingers. “what’s confusing?”

he shrugs as best he can, watching his hand in yours. “i dunno,” he repeats, grinning when you huff. “i just- i think it’s hard for people to get that i’m your friend,” he tries, “just your friend.”

“what else would you be?” what else? what else?!

“i dunno,” he repeats for the third time, though he knows exactly what you’d be. but you don’t need to know that. not when you seemed so happy, so satisfied with how things are already. and that’s what’s most important to him. your happiness. and jaemin couldn’t exactly say he wasn’t happy with how things are either, he just knows there could be more to you both, more to this. more to him than being your best friend. but maybe it’s for another night. like he tells himself every time you push a topic you’re not remotely ready to breach. “let’s forget it-”

“no,” he flinches, just preparing to settle down for sleep. “am i missing something? if i am, just tell me.”

“i-” he drops his forehead to yours then. he’s so close, your eyes have to cross just for you to see him. it’s only when he rises you see a change in him. a nervous jaemin isn’t one you’re use to. it’s one that you would rather never see, it truly worries you. especially as he agrees, a small “okay,” leaving him before he kisses the tip of your nose, his lips barely puckered as they meet the skin. he grins as he does, his teeth gleaming in the moonlit room, his eyes open just wide enough to see you. his lips drop to your cheek, warming as your skin does. he hovers there as your hand tightens on his arm, clinging to him. he daren’t move, afraid the slightest jolt will wake him, drag him right out of this sleepless dream. when your grip loosens, he drops his head until he’s right by your mouth, his lips daringly puckering before he presses them to the corner of your lips. he stills as yours do too, your soft lips, now embalmed in his memory, pressing there ever so gently before he rises once more. he waits a second, watching the smallest of shivers rack through you before he dips again, lips falling to your neck. he smiles against your skin, overjoyed as you subtly crane your neck. his teeth drag over your skin as he journeys down the column of your neck, your hands gripping onto him a touch harder when he stops.

his fingers glide along the skin of your side, thumb pressing into the dip of your waist. he stops short of your chest, locked mid motion as he watches you breathe. there is no haste in his movements. no need to rush anything. no need to hurry. all there is, is a beat. a steady one in his chest. one that holds him here, one where he can’t move, can’t bring himself to test the waters you’ve just dared he enter. not even as the pads of your fingers glide along the warm skin of his neck, nails dragging through his nape, silently daring him to move. he pants over your chest, a lazy grin pulling at his mouth as you ask him again-

“what else would you be, jaem?”

he moves unthinkingly. as his dampened lips meet the hardened nub through your t-shirt, sucking on you through the aged material. his rolls his teeth gently, his fingers at your side finding your neglected nipple as you whine out for him. he feels himself slipping into delirium, caught somewhere between a dream and reality, unsure where exactly he’d rather be. he decides it doesn’t matter, not when you’re there. here. with him. letting him touch you in ways he never really thought possible. ways jaemin only ever imagined, only ever let himself surrender to in the dead of night. in the solitude of his own shameful company. he never thought of this. not really.

he had hoped, maybe even prayed, but never truly believed he’d have you whimpering for him. your fingers falling in the gaps between his own, pressing his open palm harder against your thinly veiled heat, your hips rolling against it. jaemin never thought he’d hear your whines, the sound cutting through him like knives, like ice shooting through his veins. he never thought you’d want him. not like this.

“jaem,” he’s with you in seconds, his spit slick lips an inch above yours. he watches patiently as you grind up against his hand, feeling his fingers prod at your desperate heat.

“you wanna know what else i could be?”

you nod. “please.”

“i could be yours.”

[unwantedtomost]

the night before — sebastian stan

sebastian stan x fem!reader

word count: 2,644 words

summary: you were invited to your ex’s wedding and despite all logical reasoning, you decided to go. now it’s the night before the wedding and you’re in the same night club with your ex. time to make some more mistakes.

warnings: angst, crying, cheating, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex.

a/n: i am going to make a part two because i want to explore this more. also, thank you so much for almost 500 notes on my first one shot! enjoy :)

The love of your life was getting married and it wasn’t to you. When you heard the news, you laughed out loud, a bit too loud for being in a quaint cafe. You thought that the girl Sebastian was dating was going to be nothing more than a rebound from you, even when you heard the news that they were engaged, you thought that it wasn’t serious. But now it’s the day before their wedding and you’re pretty sure she’s not a rebound anymore.

You wish you didn’t know what day the wedding was, but you did because you were invited. Sebastian invited you. What kind of asshole would do something like that? You know he saw it as taking the high road, being a bigger person, but it just came off as a pretentious douche bag move to show that he could be happy too. Without you. And how did this get past his fiance, Lauren? Did she want you to come?

You planned on not attending because why the fuck would you want to go? But then your friend, Emerson, talked you into it. “It’s in Hawaii,” “It’ll show him that you can still be friends,” “Rub it in their faces that you don’t care anymore.” They were all very shitty reasonings but you were drunk when you RSVP’d and even drunker when you booked the plane ticket. You had been drinking a lot in the weeks leading up to the wedding, it was the only thing that made all the nerves go away. You promised yourself that you would stop drinking so much after they were married and you intended on keeping that promise.

You had been trying your best to stay as far away from Sebastian as possible in the three-day period leading up to the wedding. It had been working well so far, until tonight. You and Emerson decided to go to a nightclub away from the resort you were staying at because you heard that that’s where the bachelor party was being held. Much to your surprise, that was false information. Now you’re starring at Sebastian from across the room with eyes wide and a jaw down to the floor.

“I thought you said they were gonna be at the resort!” You yelled at Emerson over the loud music.

“That’s what the bridesmaids told me,” she defended. “But it doesn’t even matter, we came out to have a good night. Fuck him! You can be nice tomorrow.”

You quickly started to regret every single one of your decisions you had made in the past three months. Accepting the invitation, booking the plane ticket, and leaving your hotel room tonight. You knew you shouldn’t be here but you were and you hated it.

“This was a mistake. I’m booking a plane ticket and I’m going back home. Tonight.”

“What?! You can’t do that.”

“The hell I can’t.” You grabbed your phone from your purse only to get it grabbed from your hand and shoved into Emerson’s pocket. “What the hell!”

“You’re not just going to leave.”

“Why not?”

“It’s been two years, y/n. You have been telling me that you’re finally over him for a year, that’s why we’re even here, right? Because you’re over him?”

You took in a shaky breath. No, you weren’t over him. You knew you should be, but you weren’t. You thought seeing him say “I do” would force you into moving on, finally letting him go. Now, you wanted to slap yourself for being so stupid.

“Yes,” you lie despite yourself.

“Good, so let’s go get you a drink and a hot piece of ass! And in the morning we’re going to watch as he gets married and you’re going to finally let go of him, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod.

You had to get over him, it had been two years. This was the way to do it. You would force yourself to let him go and be happy. That would make you happy … right?

You and Emerson walked to the bar, ordering shot after shot until you were dizzy. Then you ordered a long island ice tea which you did not need. After you basically chugged the drink, you made your way to the dance floor.

You changed from grinding on Emerson to random individuals and you couldn’t have cared less. Everything about tomorrow and moving on left your mind completely. Right now you were living in the moment, something you were always working to do. You could tell that the individual dancing behind you hadn’t switched for four songs, so you decided to turn around. You were hoping for it to be someone cute and nice. Someone to take you somewhere and fuck the worries away. Instead, it was Sebastian.

Your smile faded and so did his. You went still, your eyes trained on his. It felt weird to be the only people in the crowd not moving. You had lost all sense of anything, you didn’t know if you stood like that for seconds or for hours.

Something in your jumbled thoughts forced you to speak. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he yelled back. His face was unreadable at that moment, you blamed it on the alcohol but you weren’t sure if you could have deciphered what it meant even if you were sober. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah, a few months, I think.” You were sure, it had been four months prior, right before you heard about the engagement. You ran into each other at a red carpet event and you tried your best to act normal.

“Do you … uh—do you want to go get a drink?”

You stood still again, silent. Your brain needed a minute to process the request. You definitely did not need another drink. “Sure.”

You followed behind Sebastian to the bar, a trip you had made with Emerson no less than an hour ago. He ordered himself a Screwdriver and you a Sex on the Beach, your favorite. You had both sucked down half of your drinks before either of you spoke.

“How are you?” He asked.

“Fine, I guess,” you replied. “How are you?”

“Good, good, really good.”

“That’s good.”

It went quiet again and even though the music all around you was blaring, it sounded only like white noise at this point. A thought came into your mind “tell him how you feel.” In a sober state, you would have shut down the thought immediately, but now it played on a loop. The chant continued to play in your head as you finished the last of your drink. You felt the tension in your body rise from your feet to the pit of your stomach, up past your throat, and to your head, making you dizzy.

“Can I tell you something?” You blurted out.

“Sure.”

“It’s loud in here.”

Sebastian chuckled, almost in relief. “Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“No,” you said, too unaware to get how cringe-worthy you were being. “Can we go somewhere, uh, quieter?”

He nodded and you took his hand and went to go find a secluded location. You weren’t going to be that asshole who jammed the bathroom door shut. Also, you were pretty sure you’d get kicked out if you did that. It took a few minutes but you finally landed your sights on a room. The door was unlocked and you realized it was a coat closet, so you picked it as your location. You closed the door before turning back to Sebastian.

The music was quieter in here, it was muffled and far away. It smelled vaguely of cigarettes but you didn’t mind too much, it was dull.

“What did you want to tell me?” Sebastian asked, voice louder than it needed to be due to how unexpectedly quiet it was.

This was it, your one time to speak your mind. You might never get another situation like this ever again. You needed to let it all out.

“I don’t think I’m over you,” you confess. “And I really don’t know if I will ever be. I know it’s been two years and you’re getting married tomorrow, but I’m still not over you. I’ve been telling myself that when I see you at that alter tomorrow, everything is magically going to go away, but I don’t know if it will.”

“Why are you telling me this, y/n?”

“Because this is the one-shot I’m gonna get. You’re getting married tomorrow morning and you need to know this. Well, actually, you probably don’t, but I need to tell you. I need to let it out or otherwise, I think I might actually fucking explode.” You took a deep breath before the words started pouring out again. “When I heard you were engaged I laughed. It was funny that you were getting this poor girl’s hopes up when we all knew that you were just going to call it off. But you never did, and I was the only one laughing. I’m pretty sure that you were my person. And I think the only reason I accepted that we were done was because I didn’t think we were actually done. I thought you were gonna come back to me. I thought one day we would look back on this and laugh because it was so stupid.”

As you talked, your throat began to feel sore, your eyes stung from the tears forcing their way down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry about everything. I should have fought for us when we had the chance and I should give up right now and—”

Sebastian cut you off by cupping your face and wiping the tears away. “Hey, hey, hey,” he cooed softly, pulling you into him. You buried your face in his chest as he softly rubbed the back of your head. “It’s okay, you’re okay.”

His sweet tone made you cry harder. You wished he would have been mean. You wish he told you to get over it and move on. But he was sweet and consoling you because that’s the type of guy he was. He was the girl who consoled his ex-girlfriend on the night before his wedding. That’s the kind of guy girls want to marry, that’s the kind of guy you should have married. At least if he was an asshole, it would have easier to move on. No one gets hung up on the asshole, they get hung up over the good guy.

You pulled away from him, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand.

“Do you still love me?”

“Y/n…” he sighed.

“Tell me you don’t. God, please tell me you don’t. Tell me that you moved on and that you love her. Could you tell me that? Tell me that you never think twice about me and that you only invited me to your wedding because you honestly think we can be just friends. I need you to tell me you still don’t care. If you tell me that, I’ll walk out the door right now and you don’t ever have to see me again. I’ll wish you good luck on your marriage and I’ll be gone. Can you just tell me that? I really need you to tell me that.”

You looked up to him with pleading, puppy dog eyes. You wanted him—you needed him to tell you that it was never going to happen. You needed closure to move on.

“I-I can’t,” he confessed. “Not honestly.”

You let out a breath you were holding before pulling him closer. You kissed him deeply and passionately, you needed him. He pulled you closer, melting into your mouth. This was it, this felt right. You didn’t think about the repercussions, you couldn’t. All you could think about was his mouth on yours, his hands on your skin.

He backed you up so your back was flat against the door. The hand that wasn’t pulling you closer by the hip locked the door. He hoisted you up, seemingly with no effort as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You made haste with his button-up as he started to push your dress up your thighs. You stayed like that for a while, tugging, kissing.

After a while, Sebastian put you down. This made you nervous, was he going to leave you here? Was the kiss just one dumb, hot mistake?

Instead of walking away, he knelt down in front of you. He grabbed your panties and pulled them down your legs. You looked down at him and let out a moan at the sight of him; lips read and raw from kissing, eyes blown out with lust. He hiked your right leg over his shoulder before looking up at you, asking you if you wanted him to continue. You nodded aggressively, letting out a few whines of anticipation.

He dived in, sending you into a state of euphoria. You pressed your head against the door as your hands tugged at his jet black hair. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, trying your best to keep in whatever moans he coaxed out of you. You felt you were nearing your high, but he pulled away before you could get there.

You let out a cry at the loss of contact. You tryed your best to pull him back to you, but he instead pushed your hands away, pinning your wrists against the door. He stood back up, form towering over your own.

“You’re so fuckin’ needy,” Sebastian stated, voice low and raspy. He undid his pants before hosting you up against the door again. He pumped his member before putting the tip at your entrance, teasing you. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, pulling him closer by his shoulders. “Please, fuckin’ need you.”

With that, he pushed in, both of you letting out loud wanton moans. You forgot what is was like to be with him. He was on the bigger end of the men you’d been with and he was by far the best. As he thrusted into you, you started to realize how much you missed him every sense of the word. You missed the way he would kiss you in the morning, you missed the way he said he loved you in the middle of a fight, and you missed the way he grunted in your ear when you would have sex.

You both held each other close as he continued to snap his hips against yours. One of his hands reached down to rub your clit, making you let out another moan. You knew you were close again and you wondered how you could finish so fast when you were with him.

“I’m so close,” you warned.

“I know baby,” he cooed. “Wanna watch you.”

You leaned your head back so you could now see each others faces. He admired how you looked all fucked out and needy. He loved how your eye brows knitted together when you were trying not to cum and he loved the way you bit your lip every time he stared into your eyes. And he loved you.

“I love you, y/n,” he accidentally said, thoughts slipping into words.

Your eyes went wide but you couldn’t help but smile. “Fuck, I love you too, Seb.”

The confession brought you closer to your high and before you knew it, you were clutching his shirt in your hands as your legs cleanched around his waist. You both moaned loudly as you came, holding each other as close as possible. You stayed against the door, holding onto him tightly for a while. Then he slipped out of you and set you back down on shaky legs.

“Did you mean it?” You asked after minutes of staring into his eyes.

He hesitated, “yes.”

“Now what are we gonna do?”

[cayofdreams]

Down with the Monocracy

(Bratty!Fem!Reader x Bakugou)

Summary: Reader has had a FWB relationship with Bakugou for the past 4 months due to her monstrous sex drive. This relationship however, comes to a brisk end when reader seems to get a boyfriend. Frustrated at your now weird behavior towards him, he decides to get to the bottom of it...in his own way. 

Words: 7.5k

Rating: 🌊 Explicit, Smut

Warnings: cursing, bratty/stuck-up reader, implied cheating, heavy orgasm denial, fingering, dirty talking, spanking, degrading, slight breeding

Notes: Hello! This is the first fanfiction I’ve wrote in close to ten years. Its much longer than I intended for a first fanfic but I was desperate to get this out of my brain. I’ll probably chill out and do drabbles for a bit lol. Feel free to give me feedback as I’ve become more-so used to writing research and analysis papers, I wouldn’t be surprised if my fanfic writing is a bit wonky. Anyways, enjoy :-).

*H/N – Hero Name

 Harsh pants filled Bakugou’s dorm as the both of you tried to stay quiet.  Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero were in the next room playing video games. You could occasionally hear them shouting at one another, a signal that one of them had lost or died in the game. Uraraka, Tsuyu, and Yaoyorozu were in the commons watching some sort of K-drama. You’d hear one of them let out surprised gasp or a giggle in reaction to whatever romantic scene transpired on the screen.

But these outside noises would leave your mind just as quickly as they’d come in due to the pleasure that was currently surging through your body. You were seated in Bakugou’s lap, faced towards his desk, grinding away at his cock trying to chase that pleasure to the maximum. Your hands clutching at the notebooks and flailed papers on his desk. A reminder that once again you guys could not study together for 10 minutes without needing to exhaust the filling sexual tension. Bakugou’s hands were grabbing at your hips, his grasp getting tighter as he got closer and closer to his climax.

“Oi…hurry up and cum..I have somewhere I need to-“ You couldn’t finish your sentence as Bakugou suddenly thrusted upward into you. Immediately you clasped your hands against your mouth to stifle your moans. He smirked at your weak attempt of rushing him.

“Surely…you’re not rushing me.” He lifted you up by your hips so that only the tip of his cock was inside you, before slamming you back down. “When your insatiable pussy is the one who started this.”

You didn’t know if he was talking about your lewd relationship in general, or just today’s scandalous activities. You assumed the latter. Waiting until you could stifle you moan enough to make a sentence, you responded. “…wasn’t me. You kept-“. He slammed into you again. You paused as you held back a groan that so desperately wanted to escape from your throat before continuing. “Kept…feeling up my t-thighs.” You flattened your palms tighter against your mouth as Bakugou increased his pace.

“Hah? So a little graze against your thighs…” He began as he traced his fingernails up and down your thighs. “Gets you like this?” A chuckle escaping him as he watched you struggle to keep your voice down as his cock continued to roughly glide in and out of your trembling walls. You didn’t respond. If you opened your mouth now, there’s no doubt that your classmates would hear the voice that represented the erotic things Bakugou was doing to you in his dorm.

“If your highness wishes me to cum, you better fucking start putting in better work than what you’re doing right now.” Bakugou slapped your thigh as if he were slapping a horse to get them to go faster. You winced as you gripped at the edge of Bakugou’s desk to better stabilize yourself. As soon as you started riding him at a more fierce pace his hands slip up to cup your breasts under your bra. He pinched at your nipples, making you let out a lewd noise that had you worrying if your neighboring classmates heard it.

Bakugou noticed you shoot a glance toward his door, listening to see if you’d been found out, and sucked at his teeth. “You worried about those dumbasses hearing you?” He got up, still inside you, and pressed his hand on your back so that you’d be face down on the desk and ass up in the air. Jutting his hip toward yours, you grunted behind gritted teeth as he leaned over so his lips traced just over your ear. “Hearing what I’m doing to your pussy?” His fingers massaging into your scalp before gripping tightly into your hair. “Fuck those extras. Let them hear.” Moving the hand that was on your back toward yours that were still tightly pressed against your mouth. He pried them away from your face, bringing your arm back so that he could use it as a reign when he began to fuck you. He straightened back up to steady himself firmly on the ground.

“Wait- Baku-! Hnngh!” Bakugou started to rhythmically jam the entirety of his cock inside you. Laughing at you as you struggled to not add on to the lewd noises your sopping mess was making.

“Fuck! L/N!” A hard slap came down on your ass cheek. The pleasurable pain causing your slippery walls to quiver against Bakugou’s cock. Your free hand roaming around the surface of the desk, now crumbling up homework papers under your fingers. “You like this? You like almost being found out by those shitty extras? Fucking pervert. Why don’t you just scream like you want to? I know you’re about to fucking cum.”

Your lips curling in under your teeth, grunts becoming louder and louder as your orgasm approached. The growls of the man behind you adding on to your auditory pleasures, drowning out the yells and cheers of your neighboring classmates. But it was getting harder and harder to hold your voice back, and Bakugou seemed to not give any care as his thrusts got deeper and more forceful.

“Fucking scream, L/N. I want to hear it. Imagine those dumbasses’ faces when you walk out there. Knowing what lewd shit you were doing with me.” He let go of your arm and reached around to wildly circle your clit. “And you portray yourself as some kind of princess. Fucking bullshit.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore. Even as your hand quickly went back to cover your mouth, it wouldn’t be able to hold back the suppressed groan you’d soon let out. “I said fucking-“ Before he could let out his demand the loud exclaims from the adjacent room poured into Bakugou’s. Another loss. Or win. Who gives a shit? All you knew is that those yells allowed you the opportunity to loudly moan Bakugou’s name to your heart’s desire as you finally reached your orgasm.

Bakugou would’ve called you out on cheating if the quivers of your orgasming walls wasn’t forcing him into his own intense wave of pleasure. “Oh shit…L/N…gonna cum. Fuck-“. He let out a couple more rough thrusts before spilling his seed inside the condom. You felt his cock pulsating, a weirdly pleasurable feeling as you were winding down from your own orgasm. Bakugou slipped out of you and slumped back in the chair and you soon followed, falling back into his lap.

Seeing that you were exhausted, he lifted up your leg so that he could reach down and slip off the used condom. Tying it in a single knot at the end and tossing it into the trash nearby. He let his hands softly feel up your thighs and squish your stomach, comforting you as you regained your breaths.

“You imbecile. We could’ve been found out, for real.” You said, pinching his thigh, too tired to hit him.

“Shut up. It doesn’t fucking matter.”

“It WILL matter if there’s ever a headline of us. ‘Upcoming pro-heroes, Ground Zero and H/N CAUGHT fornicating in the dormitories.’ You waved your hands in the air, mimicking a hysterical news reporter.

He chuckled into your back. “You fucking wish you could be in an obscene headline with me”. You sucked your teeth at him.

“Whatever.”

“Are you still going somewhere”

“Are you sane? Like I can move right after that.” You turned to look at him. “Make me some ramen. And don’t add a deadly amount of spice to it, either.” You got up and grabbed some tissues and started to wipe away the seeping wetness off your crotch and thighs.

“Like I’m making you shit! Make it yourself!” Bakugou got up and repositioned his shorts around his waist. Before he could grumble anymore, you placed a kiss on his cheek causing him to turn a deep shade of pink.

“You shouldn’t rebel. It just takes away from energy that’s better spent making that ramen.”

“Honestly, just shut up!” He turned away towards the door but you could still see the pink on the back of his ears.

You chuckled at the slam of the door, your smile widening as you heard him fumbling around in the kitchen.

But the time Bakugou returned with two hot bowls of ramen, you were knocked out asleep.

“…Fucking stuck-up vixen”

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You sat in the karaoke room with Mina, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Jirou, making you the 5th wheel. But only temporarily, as your friends had supposedly invited a cute guy from a rival hero school to be your date for the evening. You loved being courted by attractive guys, you were a queen after all, so naturally you didn’t turn down the blind date. Though you must admit, since starting your friends-or rather, rivals-with-benefits relationship with Bakugou, you didn’t go out with guys much. You didn’t really see much of a need since your sexual appetite was being satisfied. Bonus points in that since it was no-strings-attached you didn’t have to frolic in romance, leaving you time and energy to concentrate on your hero studies.

“Are you excited, Y/N!? He texted me saying he’s on his way!” Mina was definitely more excited than you were, but you were waiting in anticipation none-the-less. Apparently Kaminari knew the guy, which worried you a bit since Kaminari was a dunce when it came to most things. But after Mina and Jirou reassured you the guy was definitely your type, you became more okay with date.

“Yeah, I suppose. Tardiness deducts points, though.” You playfully declared as the door to the karaoke room slowly opened.

“Aww…don’t be so strict with me, L/N. I’ll cry before I even properly meet you.” You heard a young man say as he entered the room. As soon as you looked at his face, you felt heat rise to your own. He was nothing less than exquisite. You’d never seen hair so soft-looking and flowy, skin so smooth and obviously baby-soft. A piercing pair of eyes that you were scared, or maybe hoped, could see straight through your clothing, into your soul.

“It’s okay if you cry. I like seeing cute boys cry.” You smiled with an obviously feigned innocence as you picked up your drink and sipped from it. He smiled seductively as he sat down right next to you, not leaving any space between your bodies.

“Seijirou!” Kaminari exclaimed, reaching over to fist pump your date. “Glad you could make it, dude!”

“Kaminari, long time no see. We need to have another jam session before we graduate.” The boy named Seijirou cooly stated, returning the fist bump. “Of course with L/N now joining us in the studio” He returned his gaze toward you. “I’m sure her alluring beauty and energy will inspire me with some great melodies”.

God, his coy smile could lead you straight into hell. How hadn’t you met him yet? You almost wanted to curse Kaminari for not introducing this stunningly attractive man to you before.

“Kyaa!! What a natural romantic!!” Mina shouted slapping her hand excitedly on Kirishima’s thigh. “Right, Eiji?!”

“Haha, yeah, babe.” Kirishima replied, taking Mina’s hand in his own to keep her from bruising his thigh.

Jirou reached over to grab the tablet that connected to the karaoke room’s TV screen. “Okay, guys lets get down to jamming.”

“Yeah!” Kaminari wrapped his arm around Jirou, pulling her into his chest as she picked the first song.

“I sure hope your voice is to the same standards as your face, Seiji.” You seductively challenged, looking him right in the eyes.

“I hope so too, I need to earn those points back.” Seijirou replied, his finger tracing slowly on your hand. You chuckled, holding his hand in yours now.

Jackpot, baby

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After a long and tiring session of belching out everything from cute idol songs, to screaming death metal, it was time to head back home. Everyone was laughing and joking with each other as you all walked back. Everyone was also hand-in-hand with their respective partners, including you and Seijirou’s. In fact your hands had never left each other’s grasps since they first joined at the beginning of the karaoke session. You and Seijirou walked a few steps behind everyone, wanting to mimic any kind of privacy in order to soak in each other’s presence. Kirishima looked behind and noticed this, squeezing Mina’s hand to alert her as well. She grinned ear to ear at the lovely display of romance unfolding.

“Hey, F/N! Are you going home or….will you be continuing your date in private?” Mina winked at you, not at all trying to be discreet about her intentions.

“Oh. I guess I didn’t even think about it”. A total lie. You’d been strategizing how you’d cleverly get into bed with Seijirou since you first heard his pretty voice sing.  You wanted to know how he’d moan. How he’d make you moan. If he’d be better than Bakugou.

Woah, how did he cross your mind? You hadn’t even thought about him all night until the potential for good sex crossed your path. But thoughts of him dissipated with the sultry voice of Seijirou.

“I surely don’t mind the extra company. I’ve been dying to share my tea recipe with a worthy guest.” He squeezed your hand. “It’s a special recipe. Made especially for when my throat is sore from an awesome jam session..or when…” He looked directly at you. “When anyone’s throat is sore from using it…extensively.”

Your panties were drenched at this point. Not that they weren’t a bit damp the entire evening. You needed this mysteriously seductive man’s cock inside you. Now.

“Sounds like some delectable tea.” You bit your lip. Seijirou chuckled at you.

“Shame I didn’t bring my car, I’d hate to make you walk all the way back to my place”.

He has a car, too?!

You could throw your panties at him this very moment.

“I don’t mind walking with you, Seijirou.” You smiled up at him, squeezing his hand back.

Catching the mood, the group separated from the two of you, but not without the cheers of Mina encouraging you.

Of course, the two of you didn’t make it to his place. It’d take too long. You needed each other now. So you opted for the love hotel that was only a couple blocks away. As soon as you and Seijirou stepped into the erotically designed room, you jumped on him. He caught you, and you wrapped your leg around his waist. You drowned in each other’s kisses, wanting desperately to become one with each other. You for one, could not wait to see how Seijirou could maneuver his away around your body like he did with your mind.

-------------------------------------------------

Tapping your pen away on the notebook in front of you, you struggled to digest the information in the textbook. Not even knowing what to highlight anymore, words became more jumbled and muddled as you tried to continue reading. You couldn’t concentrate at all.

Sighing in annoyance, you got up from the common room’s table and went to make something hot to drink in the kitchen. Everyone was most likely asleep by now, but since you couldn’t seem to do so you decided to force yourself into exhaustion with some late-night studying. But unfortunately, despite feeling wide awake, it didn’t seem to help you focus any better in regards to studying. You were never a “studier” anyways.

As you waited for the hot water to boil, you scrolled through phone trying to find an entertaining distraction, settling for the digital magazine of your favorite fashion designer. You didn’t even notice Bakugou stroll into the kitchen

“Oi.”

So startled you almost dropped your phone, you turned around to see the owner of that voice.

“Fucking, hell, Bakugou. You scared the shit out of me.” Clutching at your chest, you tried to ease down the erratic beating of your heart. He always found a way to get an expletive out of you. Bakugou slightly pushed you against the counter to  get a better view of your backside.

“Nah, you’re good” Smirking, he went to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water as you rolled your eyes at him. “What are you even doing up anyways? Taking some dumbass selfies?”

“Well, if you’re so interested in the affairs of L/N F/N, I’ll have you know that I was actually studying, like the non­-dumbass that I am”.

“Sounds like something a dumbass would say.” Taking a swig from the water bottle, Bakugou took a glance at your side profile, also noticing how revealing your pajamas were. Your pajama shorts were barely covering your plump ass, and the flesh of your thighs slightly spilled over the tightness of your thigh high socks. What the hell were you doing walking around the common area like that? Surely you were waiting for him.

He took a last sip of his water and pinched at your upper thigh.

“Gyah! Bakugou, what the hell?” Your annoyed face being 110% worth the cute noise he was able to force out of you.

“Why are you studying out here? You know you could’ve asked me for help.”. His fingertips still lingering over your thigh, faintly tracing over your skin. You sucked your teeth and lightly pushed his hand away.

“No, I couldn’t’ have.” Your phone buzzed at seemingly the right time; before temptation would get the best of you. You smiled at the recent text message you received, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Bakugou.

Raising an eyebrow, he watched you with suspicion before he made another attempt. This time, he made a squeeze at the squish of your waist. “Oh yeah? And why is that?” You grabbed at his wrist in protest but it only made him dig his fingertips deeper into your flesh. “I know you have needs, Y/N. You haven’t met up with me in the past few days, either.”

The fluster showing on your face didn’t help your denying, but you still tried to step away from him; a fail. He completely closed the distance between you and leaned down toward your ear.

“…Baku-“

“It must be so hard to contain it right now. Those slutty impulses of yours.” He grinned at the way you bit your lip trying to fight off the urges his voice was erupting in you. He knew his effect on you. “So how about you just accept the favor I’m so greatly offering to you and drop those soaked panties and bend over the counter so I can ram this cock into you like-

“I’m seeing someone!” You exclaimed, possible a bit too loud. Bakugou glanced at you as if trying to see if you were really telling the truth or not. You met his gaze with a stern expression. “I’m seeing someone.”

Slowly Bakugou let go of his grasp on you and stepped back. “You fuckin’ serious?”

Slowly nodding your head yes, you straightened back up to continue fixing your drink.

“What fucking psychopath would want to date you? Are you sure he’s real?”.

“I know this may come as a shock to you.” A sly grin appeared on your face. “That I could humble myself enough to share my precious time and energy with someone-“

“Oh, just shut up, already.” Bakugou sat his water bottle down on the counter, looking at it as if thinking deeply about something. There was a momentary silence before you broke it.

“Are you mad?”

Bakugou scoffed at you. “And just what exactly is there for me to be mad about?”

“Well this commences the end of our relationship. You’re no longer a concubine. Perhaps you’re wondering what more to life there is? Oh, maybe depressed is the word I was looking for.” You put your hand to your chin, feigning concern.

“As much as I’d love to shut you up right now with a cock down your throat, I’m quite happy this is over.” He moved to put his water bottle in the refrigerator. “I can finally put my stamina towards training instead of wasting it on that monstrous sex drive you have.”

“And with that, the counsel dismisses you.” You smugly took a sip from your drink.

“Oh, shut up. I’m going back to bed before I commit regicide.” Bakugou put his water bottle back in the fridge and walked past you towards the hallway. “Good luck on your ‘studying’, your highness”.

When Bakugou was long out of your sight, you heaved out a long sigh.

“…Fuck.”

-------------------------------------------------

A couple weeks had went by and honestly Bakugou was beyond frustrated. He didn’t really think you had it in you to avoid his presence for so long. You usually couldn’t go 2 days without coming at him with some kind of ‘You agreed to be my concubine…so fucking perform!’ bullshit. With his pride, he’d pummel someone like you into the dirt. But immediately after saying something like that you’d palm against his growing hardness before lowering your head to his crotch. And you’d  adorn the most lustful gaze. A gaze that told him that he was the only one who could satisfy you.

‘You’re supposed to be pleasing me, but I guess queens have duties too…’

Honestly you were such a fucking brat. Acting all high and mighty and then becoming a filthy wench only moments after having a cock shoved up you. But he lived for it. The challenge of getting you to finally submit to him during sex would drive him crazy. That blissful face of pleasure. Those lips that would call out for him to go faster.

Maybe he’d be willing to let you go if you weren’t being so goddamn strange around him now. Not only were you being more distant around him, whenever he so much as brushed up against you your face rose with obvious arousal. Your lips would slightly part as if you’re about to let out a moan- but then you’d scold him for being so close to you.

‘Can’t you back up? I can barely hear my own thoughts with your vulgar presence around me’

That sort of thing would happen multiple times and especially during training sessions with him. Whenever you were opponents and Bakugou had successfully won and had you pinned to the ground, you looked as if you were on the verge of orgasming. And then as soon as Aizawa blew the whistle to end the round, you’d quickly run away with an annoyed look.

One time he had approached you, asking what the fuck your deal was, but you quickly dismissed him.

‘Maybe I’m just so pleased with my boyfriend that I literally can’t go a minute without thinking of him. I can’t help that you’ve never made a girl feel that way.’

Bullshit.

Were you teasing him? Did you even have a boyfriend? If you did, why did you have a face that seemed as if you hadn’t been fucked properly in years? If this boyfriend of yours was so bad at sex, wouldn’t you have dumped him? Before the start of this rivals-with-benefits agreement you’d told him of the time you kicked a guy out in the middle of fucking because he had “no idea how to fuck his royals”.  

He’d really think your boyfriend was fake if it wasn’t for the fact that one time while sitting beside you, he saw you receive a message from someone with a heart by the name. And then you’d smile to yourself before pocketing your phone.

Fuck. Maybe this guy really was that good.

No.

Impossible.

No one could please you the way he did. He knew it. It was an irrefutable fact. He’d get down to the bottom of this. He’d make you realize who you really belonged to.

Bakugou grumbled at the unfinished homework on his desk. He couldn’t concentrate due to your stupid antics. He pulled out his phone to send you a text.

“What are you doing?”

Five minutes had gone by and he was already starting to regret his act of impulsivity. You usually took a while to respond but for some reason this time it was really irking him. He got lost in senses of regret before he heard his phone vibrate.

“Getting ready for my date.”

He scoffed at your reply.

“Oh, with that fake boyfriend of yours, huh?”

A couple minutes went by before Bakugou received another reply. This time it was an image. Opening it, It was a selfie of you in what he assumed was your date outfit. You always dressed exquisitely outside your school uniform and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate your sense of style. But right now, that appreciation was manifesting into lust.

Fuck, you didn’t have that big of breasts but why were they looking so plump, now? The dress you were wearing teased your collarbones and Bakugou might as well had been drooling at this point. Not replying after a couple minutes, stunned by your posh appearance, his phone vibrated again.

“I don’t get dressed up like this for any commoner. Now why are you disturbing me?”

He wanted to reply with a “Fuck you. Nothing, dumbass”, but he held back.

“I want my fucking manga back.”

A silly demand, he knew. But it was the only thing he could think of to get you back within his grips. Hopefully you weren’t too suspicious as it had been a few weeks since you borrowed his manga to read.

“Ugh…I suppose I can take time out of my meaningful getting-ready time to drop off your little comic. I’ll be there in 20.”

A smirk shaped the lips of Bakugou’s before he brisked his way to the shower in preparation for his plans.

-------------------------------------------------

Bakugou had finished putting on his clothes and was now tidying up his room in waiting for a knock at the door. But you were always so rude so instead he was alerted by the sudden swinging open of his door. Before he could yell at you he became entranced by your appearance.

The dress you were wearing hugged you in all the right places and came to a seductive stop slightly below the round of your ass. The plush of your thighs were teased as the start of the top of your opaque socks once again molded erotically around your flesh. It seemed you also had a bit of makeup on as your e/c popped out beautifully from your dark eyeliner.

But you were also entranced by his appearance. You could tell he just took a shower because the smell of his soap traced provocatively under your nose. He wasn’t even wearing anything special, a black long-sleeve top that perfectly fitted his biceps, and a pair of black shorts. But fuck, it was driving you crazy right now.

“Your comic.” You coldly tried to hand it to him, trying to not appear as aroused as you felt.

“Can’t you fucking put it back on the shelf. That’s where you got it from, isn’t it?”

You clicked your tongue at him. “Troublesome.” As you walked past Bakugou to get to the little bookcase above his desk, he watched you. The stride of your hips as you walked had him licking his lips behind you. As you put the manga back on the shelf, he walked up to you so there was no distance between the two of you. Before you could protest his proximity he interrupted you.

“Put it in the right order.”

“What?” You looked back at him confused and irritated. Why was he getting so close to you? Why did his voice sound so intoxicating?

“I have my manga in order. If you pay attention, you’ll see there’s a number on the cover. I believe they teach little princesses how to count, don’t they?” Bakugou once again took notice of your look of arousal spreading across your face. You sucked at your teeth as you hurriedly turned your face away from him. Even after you put the manga in his preferred place, he hadn’t moved away from you. You were starting to get antsy.

“What are you trying to-“

“Where are you going?” His red eyes were fixed on your face, more specifically your lips.

“I told you, a date.” Your fingernails scratched slightly against the wood of his desk. You were overwhelmed with frustration. With desire. But you couldn’t give in.

“Yeah, but where?”

“A restaurant.” Still avoiding his intense glare, it was becoming clear to you that Bakugou had plans as well. And that those plans would involve you.

“Oh. Must be fancy. Considering you look pretty good right now.”

“Hah! I don’t need you to tell me something so obvious. Only someone with my caliber of beauty could make a cheap dress like this look so go- Mmmph!” Suddenly Bakugou had his lips smashed against yours. Damned be your libido, your tongue wasn’t denying him. Your desires were beginning to take over you as you swapped saliva with your rival.

After a few moments, your hands pressed harshly against his chest to get him off you. A chain of saliva still linked the two of you. He licked away the connection with a smirk before pulling you back close to him. He turned you around slightly so that your back was pressed against his chest. One of his hands holding you in place by squeezing at your waist, the other rubbing against your inner thigh.

“The hell do you think you’re doing?!”

“I don’t fucking get it.” His slipped under your dress to rub against your now dampened panties. His palm rubbing slowly against your wetness. “You say that your boyfriend is good at fucking you, yet here you are drenched from a measly kiss from me.”

A moan escaped you as your hands gripped tightly against his wrists trying to pry away from him. You wanted to give in so bad, but you had something to prove. You couldn’t disappoint your ego right now.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you haven’t been fucked at all since you ended things with me, your highness.” You whined at his sarcastic nickname of you before your pride came back.

“You’re wrong. I’d say that I hadn’t started getting properly fucked since ending it with you.”

“When was the last time you guys fucked, then?”

“Last night! He pleasures me every night! More than you to say the least!”. You were losing your dominance quickly, assuming you had any right now. The slow stroking of Bakugou’s palm against your covered folds had you letting out whimpers.

“Oh? Is that so? How about this? If you don’t beg for me to make you cum within the next-“ Bakugou paused. “When’s your date?”. You bit your lips between your teeth ignoring him. Not pleased with your silence he dug his fingertips into your waist. You shut your eyes and let out a loud hum in your masochistic pleasure. “I asked you a fucking question. When is your date, L/N?”

“Seven! Fuck, its at seven!”. He loosened his grasp as he checked the clock on the desk.

6:28 P.M.

“Oh that’s not that far away, but I like a challenge.” His voice rumbled against your ear. “Then if I don’t have you begging to cum within the next 20 minutes, I, Bakugou Katsuki, will get down on my hands and knees and kiss your feet.”

He was being completely unfair. 20 minutes? That’s a long fucking time to hold back an orgasm, especially when it’s this guy trying to get you to reach one. But the thought of him kissing your feet flared your insatiable ego. You’ve lasted without cumming before, and you’d do it again to see Bakugou be put in the place he so rightfully deserved.

“So what do you say, your highness?”

“-my whore.” Your breaths settled as Bakugou looked puzzlingly at you. “Say you’re nothing but a whore for the royal L/N F/N while you kiss my feet and I’ll agree.”

“Tch. Fi-“

“And! I’m going to record it.” You were testing the waters now. But if Bakugou could handle any of the game he was talking right now, he’d surely agree.

“Fine. Then we start right now.”

You nodded in a rare display of compliance. Slowly, Bakugou began to rub his fingers against the crotch of your panties. He was going achingly slow, but you weren’t going to complain. The slower he took, the more time would be ate up. Was this his plan? To just go achingly slow for 20 minutes hoping you’d ask for him to speed up?

Imbecile.

You tried to focus on other things while Bakugou slowly rubbed away against your now wet panties. Looking away towards the desk, you thought about math equations. Complicated math equations. Math equations that could help solve the mysteries of our galaxy. Bakugou noticed your attempts of distraction and grinned, placing a soft kiss on are the area that your shoulder met your neck.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” The coarseness of his voice vibrating against your neck, taking you out of your mathematical universe.

“Your face after I upload that video on the internet…” You gasped at Bakugou’s sudden increase in pressure against your clothed vulva. He was still going pretty slow but you could feel the pressure cause your clit to swell. “And how…everyone is going to see how pathetic you really are.”

“Tch. You sure are good at acting sadistic. Too bad I’m the only one who knows what a fucking pig you really are. I’ll be making you admit that in just a few minutes.”

Before you could retort, Bakugou’s fingers started making increasingly faster grinds against your underwear. It was starting to become a challenge for you to not give in to the pleasures.

But then it suddenly clicked. He only said you didn’t have to beg, not that you couldn’t cum. Smirking you let your pleasure take over you, now softly moaning into the air. Waves of an encroaching orgasm began to fill your stomach and when you were about to finally go over the edge, Bakugou retreated his now slick hand away from you.

You quietly whined at the lack of pressure before steadying your breaths again. You stayed silent, adamant about not begging to the man behind you to finish the job.

“Oh…you’re pretty tough, huh? Lets see, it’s-“ Bakugou took another glance at the clock. “6:33. You only have 14 more minutes to go, princess. I believe it’s only fair that we kick it up just a bit.”

You smugly chuckled at his challenge. “I was wondering when you were going to make this diffi- Hnngg!”. Bakugou had moved the hand around your waist to tightly grasp the locks of your hair, turning your head to face him. Taking a moment to look directly at your grimaced face he smothered his lips onto yours, ravaging your mouth once again with his tongue. The fingers at your drenched panties increasing to a much faster pace.

You moaned loudly inside his mouth as you felt immense pressure build up inside you once again. You tried to wiggle your hips away from him but he placed his leg between yours, locking you into place. Struggling to breathe, you gripped his bicep in preparation for the orgasm once again approaching you.

Bakugou released your mouth as he once again removed his hand from between your hips. You now whined louder in protest.

“You got something to say?” He asked as he nibbled against your ear. You shook your head profusely. “I guess you really do like challenges, eh? Probably more than me.”

Bakugou lifted up one of your thighs so you’d place your foot on the edge of the desk. You hadn’t yet came down from your first failed orgasm before he sunk his hand into in your underwear and viciously circled around your clit.

You were moaning uncontrollably now, not caring if classmates outside Bakugou’s room could hear you. Chuckling, Bakugou bit down on your neck before licking away at the bite marks.

“Fuck! Bakugou! I-I’m gonna-“ You whined loudly at the repeated lack of friction between your thighs.

“You’re gonna what now? I don’t fucking think so. You haven’t let out a single beg. You know the rules.”

Your eyes watered as you unconsciously rubbed your thighs together trying to get yourself off. Failing, you had no choice but to let your body come down from its high.

As soon as your panting softened, they picked back up again when you felt Bakugou slowly stick two fingers up your sopping pussy. His fingers curving just right to lightly massage against the sensitive sponge inside you while moving them up and down in a quick motion.

“Hahh… Bakugou…”You groaned in pleasure. Too lost in trying to chase an orgasm, you hadn’t cared when Bakugou used his other hand to rip open your pretty dress. He roughly massaged at your breasts while burying his head in your neck.

“No bra? No fucking way you weren’t prepared for me to fuck you today.”

Your constant moans prevented you from replying. Bakugou pinched at your sensitive nipples while sucking harshly at your neck, leaving a bruise.

“You wanna cum, princess?”

“Yes! Yes, please!! Please let me cum! Fuck!” You gave in to his challenge, but it’d be worth it. You knew this was going to be the most intense orgasm of your life. So what if you sacrificed a bit of your ego?.

Just when you thought you were about to enter heaven, the fingers that were inside you slipped out.

“Hnngh- Nooo!! Please, Bakugou. I’m begging, I’m begging!” The tears that were settled at your eyes, trailed down. Your thighs trembled as you once again tried squeezing them together to satisfy you.

Bakugou smirked silently. Instead answering you by dragging you to the bed and pushing you down. He ripped off the rest of your dress before he spread your thighs apart to take a good look at the mess he created between your hips. The way not only your voice, but your pussy was begging for him made him want to give you everything you wanted.

But, no. You needed to learn a lesson. You’d remember what happens when you fuck with him- or don’t fuck with him, rather.

His gazing taking too long, you called out for him again. “Please, Bakugou. I want to cum. I wanna cum so baaad…”. You placed your hands on his that were digging into the flesh below your knees, trying to get him to take pity on you.

“I heard you the first time. How do you want to cum? With my fingers, my tongue, or my-“

“Your cock! Please, I want your cock!” Your hands now gripping tightly onto his. “I’ve never wanted something so bad before, Bakugou, pleeease…”

“You’re begging for my cock, huh”. He pulled down his shorts so his cock could spring free.

You nodded with no hesitation. Deciding not to tease you for now, he sunk inside you in one swift thrust, thanks to your abundant juices.

“Hnngh, yes! I’m gonna cum so hard! Gonna cum all over your cock. Oh baby… Gonna cum so hard for youuu…” Your moans turned into gutteral groans as he plunged deep inside you with every thrust. He made sure the tip of his cock was stroking right at your g-spot.

As he picked up the pace, you swear you could sense your pupils dilating as an orgasm approached. You could see the pearly gates of heaven and then-

Bakugou slipped his cock out of you. Leaving you a whining mess.

“Whyyy?! ? Y-You said I could cum. You said if I begged I could cummm…”. You were sobbing at this point. “What do you want? I’ll do anything, Katsuki…”

His cock twitched at the first time of hearing you say his name.  “Say you’re a whore.”

You looked up at him as you hesitated. He coerced you with the teasing of his cock against your entrance. Sniffling, you did what you know your pussy would want you do to.

“I’m a whore.” Your eyes shut trying to hold on to the last bit of dignity you had.

“And? Fucking look at me when you speak.”

The intensity of looking into his vermillion eyes made you want to cower away. But you did as demanded. “I’m a filthy whore for Bakugou Katsuki.”

“And only me?” He dipped the tip of his cock into you and you forgot what even the meaning of dignity was.

“Yeess!! Only you! Only Katsuki! I swear it! I swear it on everything, I swear…”

“Your boyfriend?”

“I-I…” You trailed off and Bakugou started to slip back out again.

“You know I could do this forever. I made sure to jack off a few times in the shower. Let’s find out how long I leave you in this state.”

“Nooo! I don’t have a boyfriend! Fuck! Damn you!”

“Ahh…so he was fake?”

“He wasn’t fake…He was real. But h-he broke up with me after a week or so. He said he couldn’t keep up with my sex drive. Told me I was a-a nympho… So I yelled at him about y-“ You paused, hesitating to keep going. Bakugou just stared at you, not afraid of leaving you like this if you didn’t finish. “About you…”

“Me?” He leaned down to kiss your forehead, praising you for telling him all this. “And just what did your highness say about me?”

“I said if a rugged commoner like you could satisfy me, then he should be able to, too. So he called me a slut and left.”. You turned your head away, too embarrassed by the sharing of your breakup. “How dare he speak to me like that…”. Bakugou took hold of your chin to face him as he leaned down and kissed you on the lips. He wiped away your tears with his thumb and continued to stroke your cheek.

“You’re not a slut, F/N.”

You chucked. “I’m a whore but not a slut?”.

“I didn’t say you were. You did.” He slipped back inside you, making you moan once more. “Besides, you’re only like this with me, right? I doubt he was making you feel the way I do, anyways. Not with how pathetic he sounds.”

“Yeah…no one can make me feel this good.” Your mouth gaped open as Bakugou began steady thrusts inside you. Your ribbed walls clenched around him begging for more. “Lets cum together, okay?” You placed each of your hands on his cheeks. “I wanna cum with you.”

Entranced by your sudden displays of sweetness, he plunged his cock deeper and faster into you. You slipped your hands into his hair and tugged as you felt your high approach. Your moans sounded more high-pitch and angelic as Bakugou leaned down to kiss your neck. He could better hear your beautiful sounds in this position and it was pushing him closer to his own climax.

His thrusts became more erratic at his impending orgasm. “F-fuck, F/N. I’m gonna cum- I’m gonna cum so deep in your pussy.” He layed multiple kisses along your neck. “I might just give you a little prince.”

“Oh fuck! Katsukiii…Katsukiiii…” You tugged his hair tighter. Your long-awaited orgasm finally washed over you. It seemed like it could never end as your walls twitched violently against Bakugou’s cock, making him lose himself even more.

“Me too, F/N- me too. Fuck!” Bakugou pumped his milky seed deep inside you and you could probably cum again just from the hot feeling of it. When it seemed his cock was drained, he allowed himself to collapse on top of you.

You slipped your hands under his shirt, caressing your fingers along his back as you regained your breathing. “You didn’t cum exactly when I did. I’m deducting points.”

He chucked beneath into your neck. “Fuck your point system. I’m rebelling against your shitty monocracy.” You gasped, feigning offense. He kissed you on the lips before turning his body to lay beside you.

“We should..uhh…probably go get a pill, right?”

You sent a confused look at him. “Bakugou, I’m on birth control.”

He shot up from the bed with shock. “Hah?! So why had we been using a condom?” He frustratingly gripped at his hair. “I could’ve been fucking you raw this whole time?!”

“Well I figured you used them because you didn’t trust me.”

“What?” He looked at you before turning his face away trying to hide his blush. “Of course I’d trust my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?! This hasn’t been discussed with the counsel!”

Bakugou leaned over you, his forearms resting on either side of your head. “I believe I said I was rebelling against your shitty monocracy, F/N.” He pressed another kiss on your lips. “Who else is gonna put up with your stuck-up attitude and inhuman sex drive?” He layed back down beside you and pulled you into him, kissing the back of your shoulder.

You twisted your body to face him, looking directly into his eyes. “So you fell in love with the enemy?”

“Yeah, your highness. I fucking did. Gonna execute me?”

You shook your head and kissed his nose before burying into his chest. The up and down motions of his chest relaxing you, beckoning you to sleep.

“I did too.” You whispered softly, Bakugou had heard you though. Holding you tighter against his chest, the exhaustion and your comfort drifted him to sleep.

[silksaddle]

The Traveler 2

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x f!reader Western AU

Chapter summary: 1907, Old West. Talk of the Statesman gang is slowly on the rise while Jack continues to distract you from your chores, taking you on another but entirely different night-time outing. 

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, language, guns, mentions of alcohol and gangs, copious flirting, SMUT, oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex/piv sex, outdoor sex, thigh spanking, please pardon me for the amount of smut content in this chapter, a crumb of plot development, Jack Daniels again...

Word count: 14k (leave me alone)

A/N: gif credit to @javier-pena once again! thank you my beloved astrid! and as always, much love to my amazing friends who sent me inspo posts and listened to my anxious ramblings about god-knows-what. you are all the best and you have my heart.

Read Chapter One ~ Series Masterlist

Chapter Two: Six Shooter

Jack is spreading his half-naked body over the mattress in a contented stretch when you return to the bedroom, flustered and hot-cheeked.

“You here to take my sheets, darlin’? I must insist I keep ‘em,” he chortles, turning his bright face over the soft pillow as you attempt stripping the sheets from under him, your lungs emptying in a huff when he catches your wrist and draws you to him instead. Your body lands perfectly on top of his with your weak protest, a poor match for his irresistibly gravel-like voice and his buzzing snugness.

“You’re making my job quite difficult,” you mumble into his neck, kissing the smooth skin there although your words are much more harsh. His chest rumbles, fingers running the length of your clothed back from when he’d hurriedly laced you back into your dress, lips skimming graceful but mindless lines on your temple.

“Mrs. Adler thinks you’re doing your chores.” Jack’s palms are now ghosting over your shoulders as you prop yourself up on your elbows, taking his gaze with you as you move, and you can tell your dilating pupils are betraying the falseness of your annoyed tone when you look at his expanding chest. He takes a deep breath in, the angle of morning light catching his eyes just right to melt them into golden flecks, his dishevelled hair incurable without a bath. 

You card your fingers through, and though it’s slightly tangled, the texture is silky enough to brush through the messy state and straighten it out, just a smidge. The touch causes his eyes to flutter closed, and shimmying up his body, he leans his head back to expose his neck further, the long lines and tone popping against each other. His breath hitches when he feels your own puffing across it, his chest immobile while he waits to feel something more from you, but you don’t kiss him, don’t nip him, don’t caress him there.

“I’ve only come to take your sheets to wash them— I should already be downstairs,” you insist and he mopes, your voice softly carrying throughout the bright bedroom, limbs absent-mindedly wrapping around his firm ones until he clings to you.

“Oh,” he hums, tipping his body until you roll under him onto the no-longer-fresh sheets, landing on your back with his hands cradling your head. His handsome smile makes you forget you ever needed to take his sheets in the first place, and when he kisses you deeply, moaning low when you open up for him and his bare skin slides over you, you don’t even remember where you are. “Thought you’d wanted some more of me…”

“Mmm, Jack— she’s already a little suspicious of me,” you giggle, wriggling underneath his heavy weight and it’s a futile effort beneath his affection, his lips laying warm insistent kisses all over your forehead, your cheeks, your jaw. He’s unstoppable, whether it’s the heaviness or the happiness that makes you lie there and take it with quiet laughter as the rough skin of his cheek touches gently to yours. 

Jack is as much the sunshine of the room as the real thing, chuckling sweetly along with you and growing more pleased the louder your squealing sounds become, your fingers pulling across the bare skin of his back— he likes it too much to let you off in a timely manner.

Mrs. Adler had only just believed your excuse of a poor sleep as you’d rushed out in a tizzy with your disheveled hair and clothes, and a terrible flourish of panic had bloomed in your chest at the thought of an unchecked mark lingering on your neck. But Jack had looked you over meticulously; deft fingers had worked at the laces of your layers. And even before making it to the kitchen, two dozen kisses wet on your thighs, you’d opened the door only to find the old woman pacing about on the landing of the stairs. Slamming it shut with your back on the wood, panting in the face of confrontation, Jack snickered and peeked out for you a minute later, confirming your chance to slip out undetected.

Now finished serving breakfast, Jack once again prevents you from carrying out your tasks.

“You’ve left me with a lastin’ impression,” he rasps, eyes crinkling as he slips a hand under your skirt and the touch tickles and inspires a giddy laugh from your throat as you swat him away, at last slipping out from under him. 

“Give me your sheets, you greedy man,” you order, lifting your chin and furrowing your brow with your arm extended. Jack purses his lips and thinks, sitting up to run a hand through his dark hair, your smile growing despite yourself when it sticks up in bulky curls to leave his contented face in view. 

“These sheets have got your smell on ‘em now,” he grins like it’s his most favoured fact in his whole life, leaning back into his palms and his cock is slowly hardening between his legs as he considers his next words, “your cum is on them.”

“Jack,” you chuckle, “you’re dirty.” Inching closer to him, his joyous face turns dark when you arrive in the middle of his strong thighs extending past the edge of the bed, “Get up, please, or I’ll have you explaining why I’m behind schedule for the second time today.”

He presses up onto his feet, his gentle scent covering you as if a fleeting spell, and before any more rational thoughts occur, your hand is reaching into his unbuttoned pants, wrapping around his hard length. His head tips back, the softest growl filling your ears and he pushes his hips forward, placing his hands on your cheeks, urging your lips to slide along his as he fucks into your tight fist. It’s a sweet kiss compared to his already desperate thrusts, his cum still streaking your thighs, inside of you, outside of you, from mere hours before.

“I told you I’d come back here tonight. We’ve plenty of time to ruin more sheets.” Your whisper earns a heavy sigh expelled onto your skin, his grip sliding down to your neck and as his mouth hangs open, you nip at his bottom lip and pull it into your mouth, a tender suckle on the plush softness. He hisses as you let it go, burying his nose into the curve of your neck, and stilling his movements with your hand, he lets you work him like that— your fingers tightly curled around his cock as you slide it in and out of your palm. 

“Fuck me,” he groans, “I better see you back here if you’re gonna touch me like this, darlin’.”

Smiling, you pump him quickly, whispering how you can still feel him as if he’s fucking you right now, how good he is, how thick, and he growls from his chest, shutting his eyes tight in concentration.

“Maybe you’ll let me touch you tonight, too, Jack, leave your ropes for another time…” Your free hand clamps around the back of his neck, twirling your fingers around the hair at the nape of it, before tugging him down for a slower kiss, capturing his striking whine in your mouth.

“Shit, darlin’... I’d do anything you say right about now… Christ,” Jack’s fingers trace the neckline of your bodice as his lips skate along your cheek, and his voice is so husky and rumbly, you almost consider a greater risk of trouble.

He makes no protest as you bend carefully, still pumping his thick cock while you yank the sheet away from the mattress, pulling back to fold it into your arms and finally leaving his hard length unattended. Jack’s eyes snap open in a crushing neediness, his displeased but wrecked voice calling after you in a bid to keep you here and he laughs incredulously, “You get back here right now.”

Backing up into the door, your lip caught in your teeth, you reach behind and find the cool handle, offering a cheeky grin before you slip away and murmur, “I’m busy.”

-

A mellow afternoon follows Jack’s disgruntled exit to the fractional post office, stealing a rushed kiss in the corner of the parlour for the mere seconds you were alone together, giddy glances spared through the window on his walk to work. You spend a small segment of your time concocting tea for Mrs. Adler who pours over the payment book, thanking you as she slides a list across the bar; it’s full of all things you know to do without the help of paper and pencil.

“How about that Mr. Daniels?”

Spluttering, you swivel on your heel, unsure of the intention of her question, your eyes mistakenly blowing wide with no answer to fill the subsequent silence. She must know, you worry, she must.

“What about him?” You query, looking down at your apron in no need of smoothing, yet your hands fiddle with the pockets, and her amused scoff scrapes through your uneasy stance.

“My, you’d better sleep well tonight... that man whipped those fools down in a second,” she laughs, flipping the page of the large notebook and scribbling something down with a spotted, shaky hand. 

“He did.” Wiping your face, you conceal a sliver of a smile under your hand when you think of him— ease and cockiness burned down to his big pleading eyes looking up at you for permission. “Thought you disliked him.”

“Well, I could admit we need someone like that around here more often,” she croaks as you pretend to look over the list of laundry, sweeping, cooking, cleaning. The sentiment lands somewhere uncomfortable in your chest— you no more than agree with her and you could never tell her why or how.

“Oh, and dear, the sheriff came by this morning,” she adds, relaying his spiel of reports.

Only the most notable happenings make it over from town to town, lawlessness rendering crime nothing more than irrelevant. It takes a mass robbery, or a mammoth fire, or an offense so deeply doused and coloured red in rage to make the rounds of neighbouring settlements, so when Mrs. Adler shares the spreading news of heightened gang exploits a little ways north, your heart sinks and adopts a painfully heavy sensation.

“He advises to be extra careful,” she finishes with a stern look, “they could be coming here for all we know. Those Statesman men are horrible…”

“Statesman?” you echo her words, scouring the back of your mind to place the familiarity of that name, but she smiles in return to soften your worried brow. Statesmen, a Statesman. You’d read it somewhere, embellished into leather or stitched into the label of a visitor’s coat while tidying.

“I wouldn’t worry too much. If anything, girl, that Daniels boy should be of use.”

A challenge not to snicker, she gives you, when she tells you not to fuss, as if you’ve got the liberty to enjoy the outdoors where a vigilant attitude is required— but Jack is the remedy, you think, eyeing the stray strands of her brittle grey hair twisted up, scrunching your nose.

“Alright, Mrs. Adler,” you agree, passing her through to the laundry closet.

The air is stuffy inside the small, shelved room, where pleasing, cooling, tiny splashes pepper your forearms as you pour the water bucket into one of the tubs, then grabbing the soap, you flump onto the short stool and drag the laundry basket to your side. The first sheet on the pile is the last one you’d taken— Jack’s— carrying his heady and wood-fiery scent now mingled with yours. With a vibration of anticipation up your spine, your thoughts twirl upon your admittedly cruel handling of his need— tonight, you’re surely in for it.

The usual, slowly passing and hot hours fill with inescapable reveries toeing the line of unrealistic: a cloudy day in bed, a sunny evening at the river, clothes discarded to the side. Shaking those heart string-stretching thoughts and trading for a better focus, you hang the wringed sheets on the line as the last blazes of the sun spread over the field, and take a moment to rest your elbows on the log fence at the back of the yard overlooking the vast, lush area. 

Something heavy, once more, tugs at your weary limbs, watching the calm breeze push along the beige blades of plant-life, and you think of Sylvie— her bright mane and soothing demeanor, the rush of riding with her and him. The thrill no longer chased, waiting for you still. There must be a few months worth left of him, two at the least, perhaps enough to soothe your aching heart in seeking more vibrant days. But before too long, you set back on your course of chores, trekking up to tidy the bathing rooms for those coming back from a dirty day.

Jack finds you there an hour later in the open door, kneeling on the floor by the bathing tub, scrubbing away at its already-shiny exterior, and he smiles under the sticky and sweaty clothes, watching the way your body jostles with movement.

“Hey, cruel woman.”

Halting, your head briefly hangs between your shoulders before you sit back on your heels and grin up at him, his weary feet leading him towards you, a set of clean clothes hanging off his arm. His shirt is sheer in some places more than others, namely his chest, damp with muscular effort. 

“Did you have a hard day, Jack?” You question, making big eyes at him from your low spot compared to his tall height, and his face grows slightly stern.

“Oh, darlin’, you know I did,” he kneels, takes your chin in his hand and you find yourself leaning up into his face, mere inches from his lips, entranced by their pouty curve. But he doesn’t kiss you. He pinches your chin harder, a deep pressure as he looks over you, taking in the way you indulgently advance until you’re on hands and knees, caged by his own, staring at him with none of the power you held this morning.

“You oughta continue what you started…” he whispers almost on your lips, never close enough to touch, your eyelids heavily drooping as you look down his torso, leading to his cock.

“Oh,” you sigh, slick pooling where he can’t see or feel it, “Jack, I can…” 

You crawl forward between his spread legs until your nose nudges the material of his pants, resting your weight back on your knees when you reach out for him, but his face is a sinister, knowing grin when steadily rises back up to stand, rocking into his heels.

“Not now, though,” he coos, swiping a damp thumb over your lip, “off you go, little lady.”

“Why—”

Whining involuntarily, you watch while he shrugs off his suspenders and closes his eyes, fluttering back open with a smirk at Mrs. Adler’s distant call for you to prepare dinner.

“That’s why.”

Your mouth hanging open, you roll your eyes, taking his calloused hand as he aids you upward from the hard floor, though he finally gives you a greeting of a peck on the cheek, “Later, angel, you can show me what you’ve been thinkin’ about all day.”

Nudging your body, he sends you off to your chores in a frazzled state and shuts the door with a wink, settling in to wash himself off from the dust and dirt.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so needy, it nearly feels stupid to still have the crushing weight of wanting Jack as you chop ingredients, peek into cupboards, fill plates. It’s even worse when he sits at the table, clean and fresh and irresistibly smooth, chatting in easy conversation with Mrs. Crockett who enjoys his company dearly as she tells him uninteresting stories of her husband. 

He watches your back as you turn about the steps, as you pass along plates to each person, and he brushes his fingers purposely along yours when you arrive at his spot, a gesture to offer his silent token of appreciation. Your breath catches, and his wink sets it free again through a quiet sigh, smiling sweetly for him. He tries not to laugh, you notice, and you stop yourself from touching his shoulder here in front of everyone— namely Mrs. Crockett, who has also made a poor reputation of gossip and a budding friendship with Mrs. Adler who is closest to her in age. The last thing you can manage is a rumour about your little life; by that point you’d be begging Jack to take you with him even before the post office is built, even with so much left to explore with him.

As the chitter-chatter diminishes down to an empty table with empty plates, and the visitors disperse into corners or run off to different buildings— they always come back for dinner to get their money’s worth— you sort out the dried laundry, slipping into the ladies’ rooms to aid with corsets, all with distant thoughts in a place where they shouldn’t be. They never ask about your day so much as they speak of theirs, whether time spent with their sweetheart, telling you how they prefer their things folded, or muttering how much they liked dinner. The last one you take lightly, thanking the ladies in whispers. Now, though, it doesn’t cause as much of an ache in your heart when you listen to their free and happy memories— you think of doing the same with Jack, of asking him and receiving his sweet smile in return, ready if you are.

When you finally sit at your simple vanity, it’s with a powerful sigh that you remove your boots, step out of your clothes, and trade them for your nightgown. You pull the threaded pink ribbon taut into a bow, and look over yourself in the mirror, giddy in your stomach for when the time comes to slip into Jack’s room. Judging by the clock, another half hour would do to be sure everyone has settled in so you can sneak in complete privacy, and it feels less daunting now than it ever did before.

Folding your petticoat to lay the soft cotton on the tabletop, you hear the handle click and turn and you gasp fiercely in response, rising from the chair as Jack all but barrels in, haphazardly shutting the door before swooping you into his arms.

“Oh, my—” you squeal, cut off by a rough kiss that you eagerly return, bombarded with the scent of his soap and shaving cream. You only urge him off with your hands sneaking between your bodies to press on his chest and ask a burning question, his lips not wanting to part from you. It’s a tiny struggle but he eventually gives way, fondly looking down at you as you speak. “Did anyone see you?”

“Hall was empty. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ of you… lost my damn patience,” he croons, plushy lips open on your neck, leaving kisses that bloom into pleasant flourishes of need like ink dipped into water. It’s a new spot that you allow him to explore, bringing your hands up his wide shoulders as you turn around the room together, stepping at random. “Had to keep from touchin’ myself and dreamin’ of you…”

You wrap your arms around his neck, reeling him in closer for a whisper against the shell of his ear.

“You don’t have to dream, Jack, I’m here.”

His breath stutters uncharacteristically and it must be your chance to keep him like this, his pleasure dependent on what you decide to do with him— so you pin your front to his and he grunts, giving a miniscule, testing rut back.

“No more teasin’?” he asks hopefully, sweet brown eyes glowing in the low light of your little lamp. “You weren’t so nice this morning…”

“Oh, Jack, I’m not so sure about that.”

In a mirror of the morning, you slip your hand lower to find his cock hard again, splaying your fingers over its thick length and rubbing over the fabric. He squeezes your waist, digging his thumbs in helplessly as he staves off a groan in a bid to keep what willpower is still left with him, then loses it all when you place a simple kiss to his collarbone, not open or rough or wet— just plain, pressed lips to his skin, and he asks you for more.

“Will you let me touch you this time?” you murmur, urging him backward onto the bed. He slumps over the mattress, eyes trained on your face as he places himself further up with his legs spread, palms sinking into the covers. He swallows thickly when he takes you in: standing over him in the sheer, light fabric of your nightgown, its lace edges bordering the slopes of your body.

“I want you in my mouth,” you continue, lowering yourself to your knees, hands over his own as he shuts his eyes and breathes deep, long breaths, grunting when he feels your fingers working at his buttons. “Think I’ve earned it.”

“You could ask me for anything you want, darlin’... shit—” His thighs tense under your ministrations as you reach in and pull his cock out, the tip of it shining in his own, generous arousal. He looks down from himself to your sparkling eyes, and cups your cheek in his large hand, its smoothness traveling down the curve of your face. “Anything you want.”

His lip twitches, mouth falling delicately open and his eyes shutting once more as you place your tongue flat at the base, licking upward, circling around the head while you watch his face strain and pull, his neck sticking out prominently. He’s gorgeous when you touch him like this, still so fresh and clean from the bath. The warm drips of precum glide slowly on your tongue as you hold it out, then wrap your lips around him, whining when he fists through your hair and cramps his fingers.

“That mouth is just about gonna kill me already,” he rasps, bucking his hips up a smidge to perch himself deeper in your mouth, your hand rising to cover his at the base of your neck. Its heat is dangerous yet satisfying in its revelation of just how affected he is, a tiny spot of sweat swiping from his palm onto your neck.

Blinking up at him, you pull off, wetly sliding over half the length of him before moving back down to take more, feeling it brush against the back of your throat. You keep him there as he squeezes you harder, his spine curling over you and the new sound he makes is just begging to be heard, but he smothers it with a bite of his own lip to quiet it.

“Like that…” he sighs, carefully canting his hips forward as you wrap your fingers around his base, enveloping him and spreading the wetness of your mouth over his entire length.

He glistens like that, shimmering in the low and golden light, fisting at the blanket and your hair, puffing focused breaths every time you take him deeper, longer, sucking him harder.

Up and down, you keep your lips wrapped snugly around his cock, its throbbing heft a pleasurable weight on your tongue, the satisfying hit of the head at your throat.

“Where have you fuckin’ been,” he nearly laughs in disbelief that you’re even here, much less on your knees, much less with your mouth around him.

Pulling off for a deep breath, you trace the edges of your nightgown, eyeing him and his debauched, handsome face as you bring the lacy straps off your arms, leading them from your wrists. “I’ve always been here.” 

The fabric gathers at your waist in a soft pool of cotton and ribbon, your chest bare and level with his cock.

“Do you like that, Jack?” you preen, settling closer to him this time over the hard and truthfully painful floor— you don’t notice it as much when you feel him hitting that spot all the way down your throat.

“You know I do,” he smiles breathlessly, crinkles and that little dimple creasing in his content face. He leans down for a kiss, its nature unlike the urgency of your own mouth wetting his cock— it’s always sweet like he is to you in every other way, lingering there before you lean into the space between his legs, eager.

“I wanted you all day,” you coo, running a thumb over his tip, a saturated kiss placed there before you put him in your mouth for a brief suck, managing to keep him inside for a few short seconds. “I should have felt so tired after what you did to me, but all I could think of was this.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, he then lets it go in a gravelly sigh as he holds your bobbing head in his hands, spanning the sides of your face. Your forehead brushes his soft stomach as you push down, hollowed cheeks hugging every inch of him and he jolts, driving himself the smallest bit further, moaning at the tight and wet sensation of you. You pump him, looking so falsely innocent between his legs, your chest and shoulders bare for him to admire, peeking out of the fine gown.

“Keep goin’ darlin’, I’m gonna fill that pretty mouth up... know you want it down your throat, bet you thought about havin’ my cum drippin’ from your mouth all day, too, hm?”

Licking the tip and rubbing him faster, you nod fervently, opening wide in a stretch to finish him off with firm squeezes and strokes, his breaths now raggedly rough from above you every time he hits that spot. Your mouth is hot on his skin and he warns you he’s going to cum soon, he’s going to fill your mouth up nice and good, and you shut your eyes tight in concentration, focused on the thick feel of him sliding in and out between your lips.

“Wanna see you when I fill you baby doll, c’mere n’ look at me.” Jack’s fingers brush the underside of your chin, and you strain to look upward before you slide your hand over his slick cock. He tenses up by another degree, his chest and forehead damp, throat straining as he swallows thickly. 

A final squeeze and he cums all over your extended tongue, the milky liquid sliding off and onto your chest as he moans through gritted teeth, dazed as you are as you both watch it drip all over your exposed half. You swallow what remains in your mouth, letting your jaw drop to show him your now clean slate.

Bending into you and still panting, he smiles, streaking his thumb down your chin to gather up what’s left, guiding it into your open mouth. Heart racing, you take it in, your enthusiastic glow causing his face to soften.

His gaze drifts south to linger on your glimmering chest, pressing his palm flat and firm into the slight pool of it. He paints you with it, spreading his cum all over each breast with a clear sheen from the separation, special attention granted to each nipple with a flick of his wet thumb. Its initial warmth has cooled and with it lingers a soothing cover over your front as you lay your cheek over his knee, toying with the worn laces of his boots.

“Now… how to thank my darlin’ girl and her perfect fuckin’ mouth…” Jack wonders aloud as he cups your cheeks in his hands and puts a contrasting, innocent kiss to your forehead.

Grinning up at him and placing your hands over his, you tell him that’s all you wanted to give him, all you needed was to finally feel him in your mouth.

“Well,” he whispers, “I wanna show you what I was thinkin’ about all day long.”

The spark in your eyes must be a blinding one, his hands gliding over the slope of your body as you work yourself back onto your feet, your knees throbbing and sore. Wincing, you balance yourself on his broad shoulders, glancing down to notice his eyes not relieved of their dark hunger.

“Jack, you’re…”

“Not done, angel,” he finishes for you, and that’s when you feel it, the slick dripping past your core to spread slightly down your squeezing thighs. He pushes his sleeves up as the corner of his lip tugs upward too, straight teeth glinting the same as his eyes.

“Your turn, then,” you murmur, parting his hair through your fingers. It falls back into place, his pillowy and gentle lips finding yours as he stands with you, always chasing you, waltzing you backward until your ass bumps against the thick windowsill.

“I was choppin’ wood, thinkin’ of settin’ you right here,” he confesses lowly, ensuring the curtains are drawn completely open with a quick swipe of his hands over the gauzy lengths previously covering the glass, “thinkin’ of fuckin’ you on my fingers like this.”

You situate yourself properly on the sill and he steps back, taking a comically focused once-over of your seated body, but the desire is still so thick it doesn’t even bring you to laugh when he hurriedly comes back to you. He spreads your thighs wide, his palms a fiery heat that couldn’t be further from where you want it.

Tugging at his collar, you reel him in to place an open kiss just under his ear. “Give it to me how you want.”

The glass cools the staggering temperature on your skin as he knocks you into it, your back sticking to its chilly surface in the midst of his swirling breaths, ghosting the edges of your shoulders before he hikes your thighs up higher to his waist.

“You ready for me?” he murmurs with a husky voice, and it’s a powerful shock from your head to your toes, seeing how easily he’s worked back up to needing you as he lowers a hand to your core. His fingers part you, a slick and effortless slip through your folds to your entrance. “Darlin’... you’re soakin’ my hand already. Did suckin’ my cock do all this to your sweet little cunt?”

A hushed, restrained sound tears from you and is quieted by his mouth covering yours when he rubs his calloused fingers over your clit, rasping those low words sweetly into you, nipping your bottom lip between his teeth as the digits travel lower. The arousal dripping from your cunt makes that first slide so easy, Jack bottoming out to his knuckles with a soft sigh. His stomach nearly touches your own still covered by the bunched nightgown and he pauses there, a reassuring squeeze to your side and then a smooth gracing of his free hand to hold your thigh tight to himself.

“This is where I’ve wanted to be,” he confesses, his nose drawing a line from your shoulder, delicately down to your chest as he bends and swipes his tongue broadly over your sensitive nipple. The signals from your brain to your muscles are jumbled now, feeling the heat of his wet tongue tasting the cum on your chest— it’s out of your control when you arch your back into him and whine, when your fingers tangle into his hair and tug.

He responds in a groan, licking across your skin to your unattended nipple which he suckles on gently, lapping at it. Jack curls his two thick fingers before straightening out to kiss you fleetingly on your lips; he parts and watches your eyes intently, a stray curl falling to hang between his brows.

“So full already, hm?” he teases, his thumb swiping slow patterns on your clit, and you lean further back into the glass with a pant, its surface no longer able to cool you down.

“Yes,” you manage to respond in a gasp as he grants a second, deeper hit, a slight slapping sound causing you both to hug each other tighter and chuckle.

“Tight, sweet thing,” he groans, extended curls and strokes stretching you wholly around his hand, “take my fingers just right. Is that it, darlin’, were you made for me to fill you?”

“Mm,” you suck in sharp breaths, “mhm, you fill me up, Jack, you fill me up so good.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck, and his chin hooks onto your shoulder, digging into it hard as he holds you with one toned arm snaking around your waist. Like this, your damp chest brushes his, his fingers pump and work you open another smidge wider as he pushes in, grinds his palm against your clit, pulls his fingers out a fraction of the way. The motions of his hips against his own wrist are gentle, unhurried for now, having already cum into your slack mouth.

With the flat of his free palm caressing your back through soft strokes, he draws his lips back and forth over the curve of your neck.

“You know what I see?” he asks, urging his knuckles deeper in the hardest plunge he's given you tonight, an agonizingly fiery touch to your clit. “Men, walkin’ around all dumb— could see me fuckin’ you right here on my hand if they’d just look up— shit, they got no clue I’m feelin’ the wettest little pussy, huh?”

“Fuck, Jack,” your nails dig into the lean and muscular bulge of his biceps as he keeps you upright against the glass, your thighs squeezing him so close he can hardly fuck you anymore— he just rubs and grinds his hand against you while remaining far inside your aching pussy, soaking his already drenched fingers with more slick.

“And only I’m gonna watch you cum,” he adds in a grunt, working himself into you with every last drop of energy he’s saved, his soft moans and sharp teeth spurring you closer to coming all over his perfect fingers. You might have gone longer if not for the irreversible, desperate need for him that sucking his cock had instilled in you— had you nearly dripping onto the floor, your body left unimaginably sensitive that each time he brushes up against you now, you dig deeper into his skin. He likes it though, and it makes him move with a crazed edge, his moans transforming into snarls.

“Only you…” you echo, starting to grind with him yourself, rolling into and meeting his short, fast thrusts, every muscle tensing and straining and it’s so close, almost there—

“There you go, doll, can feel you squeezin’ me so tight… cum on my hand, fuckin’ soak me, c’mon…”

“Jack, Jack I’m gonna—” Urgently, you tap at his shoulder with wide eyes and worried brows as you feel it start to happen, knowing how close you are to crying— your nails dig into his shoulders so intensely when you cum, jaw dropped and eyes shut and he makes a wincing yet completely pleased noise into your mouth; it’s cruel. You manage not to make a peep at the cost of losing large breaths, and it makes your orgasm all the more intense: light headed, woozy, and tingling numbness reaching the length of your body.

“Sweeter than fuckin’ honey when you do that,” he smiles widely, until his mouth drops fully open at the way you hug his hand inside from coming so hard around him. Your slick gathers between your thighs and you still can’t breathe, his face buried into the spot under your jaw as he pulls them out of you, dragging the pads up to your clit while the rest of it spreads throughout your folds. He stares down at it, at the wetness dripping and glistening from your core, and he groans again, blinking slowly.

Placing his palms on the sill by either side of your trembling figure, he hums, your smile against his skin buzzing at his insatiable drive, how he’d fucked your mouth and your pussy with such short rest, feeling the damp hair at the back of his neck. He drops his head down as an offering and you take him in a gentle cradle, kissing his forehead as he’d done to you while he nestles. He looks up and back down, waiting for another, your fingers smoothing the unruly hair from his face.

“Hell, if I don’t wanna fuck that pretty pussy every night till I die,” he exhales, another glance at his wet fingers, dropping a kiss to your collarbone.

“Oh, Jack,” you laugh, your heels hitting the wall underneath you, “if only you were here for that long.” 

His face scrunches a little in confusion before his lips curve, “How many times do I have to remind you I ain’t leavin’ so soon?”

“As many times as it takes,” you whisper, fingers scratching down his arms, his own dipping into your cunt again without a warning, “fuck—”

“Yeah, baby doll,” he croons, “I got somethin’ to prove to you still?”

You nod with a greedy smirk and he retracts his fingers, taking them into his mouth after drawing a line between your breasts to taste your mingled releases, moaning in your ear. “Go n’ get on the bed. You’re gonna ride my face.”

A shiver chills your spine, mainly at the way his voice has dropped a miraculous third time, his hand landing a light swat on your ass when you pass him, shaky legs taking you toward the mattress. He follows to lay on his back, perpetually pleased with himself, arms outstretched and beckoning you forward. You crawl up to him and you can feel your own cum streaking your thighs as you move, soon beside his large body, and he raises his brows impatiently, “Well go on, sugar, I wanna taste some more of that.”

Stretching his neck every which way, his eyes crinkle as he grins between your thighs while you throw one over his shoulder and his arms fall behind him, fingers searching for yours until he laces them together, squeezing.

“You’re not tired yet, old cowboy?” you tease lightly, the force of it lost when he gives a broad swipe of his tongue and moans yet another time, indulgently, swallowing the remnants of your previous release.

“I ain’t ever gonna tire of this,” he replies, another lick from your entrance to your clit, such an easy slip of the muscle, your sensitivity dialed up too many extra notches. His brows knit together in effort, rough cheeks pleasantly scratching on your skin when he moves his head side to side, tongue hanging out of his mouth and edging with a perfect pressure all over your sensitive bud.

“I’d hope not,” you exhale, grinding your hips over his wet mouth until his grip moves to your thighs to prevent you from moving. His eyes look up at you keenly as he closes his lips around your clit and sucks, your head tipping in silent rapture as you take it all for him without the relief of motion. 

“We go real nice together,” he grumbles into your slick center. Tightening the hold of your thighs, he laves his tongue all over you in focused circles, faster, with just enough force for your legs to start shaking around his handsome face, for another gush of arousal to spread over his swollen lips. All that’s left for you to handle it is to scream it out, how good he makes you feel, how precious, but the house is so silent and only you can hear the slick sounds of his mouth on your clit— he won’t even let you rub yourself over him. You can only bite your lip and hold your breath, yet little puffs and moans sneak out when he does something unforeseen, like a single bite on your thigh or a gentle nip to challenge you— it’s all on purpose and easily noticed by his gratified face.

He tugs your clit a short, miniscule distance and lets it go, shaking his head when you mope over the loss of contact.

“Are you tryin’ for me, sugar?”

“You’re being tough on me,” you whine, shimmying further up his body to regain his lips that are brightly shining.

“If I ain’t tough then it ain’t right,” he whispers, “stay still and quiet for me and I’ll take you out again.”

He tips his head down and forward, swiping his prominent nose to spread you further open, but you don’t even consider the promise of a gift, your focus on the return of his soaked tongue to your throbbing core, biting hard on your lip to quell the need to cry.

“Is my darlin’ gonna come? You gonna cum all over my face? Gimme another one, dolly.” His mouth latches back onto your clit and you can’t think, much less form an answer in your blank head where all you see is white, or maybe blinding stars, or just plain nothingness as you let go, his moustache wet with you, his lips dripping.

By some miracle, the scream you fend off becomes so high pitched in your throat that nothing makes it out of you save for the helpless cry of, “Jack!” as you tremble around his cheeks.

“Yes,” he grunts, and thank goodness it’s muffled by your soaking core; your fingers finally escape his hold to grip at his hair with a fierce, unforgiving tug, and that softer sound fills the room again while your body freezes up and you cum harder this time, covering him, coating him. He grumbles something again, but it’s nothing you could hope to make out in the crushing wave of pleasure that hits you— the light sensation does not leave you, though the shaking eases off as Jack places a tender kiss to your clit, and you jolt at just that velvet brush, his eyes turning sympathetic. You breathe deep, slumping with great exhaustion and the dazed happiness of having him in your room now as you lift your thigh from his body and he leans his head up to grant a quick kiss while it slips away from him.

“Knew you could be quiet,” he smiles under the shine of your second release, resting his arms open over the blanket to welcome you into them.

“As if you don’t make it hard.” Huffing, it’s with a reciprocal smile that you crawl back to him, nearly toppling over on your way with the weakness of his own power against your body, and he chuckles at you, not shying away from his joyous teasing when you throw him a half-glare.

“Did I wear you out again?” he questions, guiding you into his side, turning his body over yours to swipe his tangy tongue over your bottom lip.

Whimpering, it turns into a cheerful giggle as he drops pecks over your nightgown, wrapping his finger around the tail of the ribbon. 

“You just keep going, don’t you, Jack?” you cup his face in your hands, and it’s now that he adopts a sheepish expression, turning his eyes away to tilt his neck and kiss your stomach once more.

“Until you ask me to stop, darlin’.” He lends two more kisses, one to each breast, and then gathers the straps of your nightgown from the pooling of fabric underneath your chest, tenderly helping your arms through the holes. You admire him quietly as you sit up to ease the gesture, letting his fingers guide the intricate lace edges back to your shoulders. He pats the cotton down to smooth it, your thumb stroking over his left eyebrow. His hands pry under you to wrap his arms around your middle, his cheek resting over your belly as you scratch through his dark hair. 

“I think you’re softer than you realize,” you whisper, twirling a lock around your finger and he peeks up, the apples of his cheeks rising in a twinkling smile.

“I can shoot a gun a million times but I sure don’t like it more than kissin’ you,” Jack coos, tickling up your sides and swatting away your protesting hands until you make an involuntary squeak and his eyes widen, hurriedly covering your mouth with his own. You titter over his smooth lips, his weight pinning you as he opens his mouth, taking more. “I’d think I’d have sold my soul to the devil to end up here with you if I didn’t know any better.”

You let the next bubbling ripple of affection take over you when he whispers that with his gleaming eyes, and you kiss him three more times, each slower than the last.

He rests there for some time, indulging in the carding of your fingers over his scalp, and he ensures you’ve drifted off before he rises in search of a cloth. He finds a green one folded by your petticoat, his fingers briefly dragging across its white lace before he dips the cloth in the small dish of water left beside it. He crawls back up beside you, lazily yet with careful attention guiding it under your slip and over your breasts, relieving you of the stickiness. You stir but don’t wake— his touch is too light, yet still unlike a feather— he cleans you off, sets the cloth back in its spot, and resumes his position, nestled up next to you.

-

Sneaking into Jack’s room— or him into yours— becomes a habitual routine after the goodnight click of Mrs. Adler’s door, though you often find yourself with an early visitor with eyes too bright and a needy little grin on his face. It follows his giddy lips on your neck hours before in scarce moments of isolation from other guests, or after he’s stared too long across the bar, and to ease the tension, he’ll ride to take Sylvie to stretch her legs, a sympathetic look on his face at the door knowing you can’t join.

And he wears you out. Nightly. A simmering threat to your timeliness in the morning that you can’t let go of. A single time, he’d taken the sheets with him in a rapid roll onto the floor as Mrs. Adler knocked and knocked outside, calling for you to rise, until she barged in and the thump had to be blamed on yourself, standing in your disheveled chemise. Her shifty eyes become less of a fear in your head and more of a laughing stock, though not as much as Jack was in his stupid course of action to thump on the floor behind the side of the mattress, taking the blankets, too.

His dignity is not lost, though, each time you press on him about it— his grip tightens over your thighs as you straddle his lap, feeling the impression of his leather settling into your skin.

A rare clump of clouds settles over town the following week, lingering long enough to darken this evening further and forcing an early lighting of the lamps inside, a cozy glow over the hectic and crazed state of the bar.

“Let’s not slack, dearie,” Mrs. Adler sings in her urgently high-pitched voice as you handle the treacherous beast of the card game hours, handling too many requests for the strongest liquor from the cabinet, working your wrists as you open new bottles and impatient sighs crumble out of overworked throats.

Jack glances at her, a rapid flick of his angry eyes as he sets his glass of whiskey down, furrowing his brows in obvious disagreement with her words.

“She’s doin’ fine,” you hear him grumble, and you don’t have it in you to turn and face him to offer your surely-silencing glare, and without it he continues, “think we could offer a little patience.”

Chest fluttering, you shut your eyes with a bothersome huff, setting your hands flat over the counter as you wait for Mrs. Adler’s response, and the other men waiting at the dining table chat over things well beyond you, another fleeting mention of the Statesmen— but Jack remains silent along with her, and you can already picture the way he must be maintaining a hard stare at the old woman to leave her increasingly frazzled.

“My girl does this every day,” she states primly, blocking his view of your back with her own body after an uncoordinated waddle, “you keep out of it.”

Jack scoffs, soft but pointed, the wood groaning under the slide of his glass as he moves it aside, “If you cared to notice, ma’am—”

Spinning on your boot, away from the assortment of glasses set over the counter in their stage of finishing touches, you raise a hand, his first name almost slipping out until you choke on the unspoken word, widened eyes earning a mirrored expression from Jack, “It’s alright, Mr. Daniels,” you soothe, and his smirk is much too telling in his amusement of your spluttering, that you’d called him the old, proper name.

Mrs. Adler huffs a victorious breath as she checks over the full and heavy tray, granting approval while you giggle at Jack’s silly face made behind her back, followed by a wink of his eye. 

He closes his eyes as Mrs. Adler finally limps off into her study— what she achieves in there he does not know— and watches you with affection and a warming dose of admiration in his stomach as you handle the tray, setting down shining crystal glasses on the table, a soft smile on your face as the youngest card player offers his thanks. They rarely ever do.

“You look real nice,” he drawls as you round the counter, his elbows sliding along the surface as he leans in, all sparkling eyes and teeth with his wide grin as he follows your steps. “I think I’d like to get my hands on—”

His words fall away to a whisper as you shake your head in feigned annoyance, the laughter stealing your breath as you lean opposite him, taking in the sly look on his face and the pull of his shirt across his shoulders. His hand reaches for yours, tentatively, and you’re powerless against the sweet touch on your fingers as he traces them out, pulling your palm into a bed of his two hands. 

You watch as his eyes set on the random patterns he draws, eyelashes curling against his face every time he blinks, your conscious mind soon oblivious to your placement in relation to the large group at the dining table— but it doesn’t matter. They’re as absorbed in their gambling as you are in his focused touch and feel, your heart an obnoxious flutter when he smiles up at you, a perfect mix of kind and sultry darkness. 

“I’d like to get my hands on you,” he murmurs, those repeated words spoken lower this time and with a twinkle, raising the back of your hand to his lips. A gentle press, your eyes locked together in a soft gaze to match, and he gives you back your hand as the spell of slowed-time is broken by a shocking round of cheering from the group behind you both.

With a subdued grin, you ease yourself away from the magnetic pull of your lips to his, “You’ve always got your hands on me.”

“And in,” he huffs, stifling a snicker at the fifth roll of your eyes today, watching the ends of your tied apron’s ribbon swing around over the length of your skirt. 

“You’d better find something to do in the meantime, or I’ll be asking Mrs. Adler to send you off herself.”

Jack shudders in a fake paddy of fear, the miniscule shakes of his body diminishing the sooner he realizes the severity of your words, and he merely chuckles. “Why’d you want to get rid of me?”

The pleading pull of his face and the wide and warm eyes he gives are somehow not enough to stop you from gesturing your head towards the pile of dirty dishes from dinner, waiting beside the basin. “You’re distracting.”

“Sweetpea, I’m ‘fraid that’s what you’ve got yourself caught up in,” Jack rests his chin in his palm, eyeing the clearing weather outside, “if you insist on woundin’ me, I think I’ve got a horse who needs to go for a ride, and a little lady who’ll have to join us next time…”

“I’ll see you later, Jack,” you whisper, rounding the edge of his ear with your fingers, easing his hair back into place and he adopts a light blush— softer things always more efficient in pausing his heartbeat than harsher things— and he grabs his hat left to the side of him, placing it over his head and bidding you a caring goodbye, “Miss me, darlin’.”

-

Once the room has cleared at last, leaving you in that familiar spot with soapy hands, sore feet, and a wandering mind, you arrange the wet dishes to dry, stacking each on top of the other with meticulous attention. You dry your hands on the fabric of your apron, rough cotton soaking up the water, your back leaning into the hard edge of the bar behind you. The strain in your neck grows sharper as you push your head back, groaning, willing away the next few hours until you can put your feet to rest upon Jack’s lap. 

And at the thought of him, a whistle from the exterior shoots your stream of mental pictures down as your head whips to look out the window, and there he is— Jack, thighs spread wide over Sylvie’s back as he urges her to stop, his eyes straining to find you through the window. Stomach twisting, you make a speedy trip to the stash of berries hidden away, and you pull a handful of them into your apron’s pocket before sparing the parlour a thorough peek and slipping out the front door.

It’s not loud enough for you to make out, but it must be Jack’s voice in a baby soft tone as he tells Sylvie what sounds like “there she is,” with a pat between her perky ears and a smile towards you. 

“Hello,” you grin, stepping to the edge of the porch where you meet the two of them, shamelessly devouring the way he sits tall upon her in the dying sunlight clear of clouds, dark clothes, dark hair, dark eyes, a bandana hugging his neck under his glistening throat. “Back so soon?”

“It was her idea,” Jack pokes, leaning back in the saddle as Sylvie adjusts her hooves into place over the dust and sparse blades of wheatgrass. “Suppose I had to lead her here, though…”

With a hand gliding along her wide neck, you watch his smile only grow in size as he watches you gather the berries from your pocket and throw a quizzical look his way, to which he nods enthusiastically, leaning forward again to watch and guide.

You call her name softly, approaching her from a better angle, and she makes an odd pattern with the movement of her head before she digs into your offered palm of treats, her wide mouth a great tickle on your skin that you try not to flinch at.

“Nice girls,” Jack whispers, swiping his hand over Sylvie’s shoulder, then turning his attention to you. “No more flak from the lady, I’m hopin’?”

“No, haven’t seen her since,” you giggle, “you know, Jack, that was kind what you did, but I am still fine.” 

Sylvie chomps down the rest of your stash of berries, licking the leftover juices off your palm as you gasp, retracting your arm, and Jack extends his hand far across to you in a warm beckoning. You give him the dry one and he laughs when he notices, “I ain’t afraid of no horse’s mouth,” steering you around to where he’s sat on the saddle.

“You’re not even afraid of Mrs. Adler,” you say bluntly, resting your laced hands over the meat of his thigh and then your chin on top, and Jack stares down at your widened eyes, his chest stuttering with a slightly choked breath.

“I came here to see you, darlin’, to tell you somethin’.” Running his thumb over your hand, he starts to lean his body down, your own straightening for his lips to meet your ear in a warm breath, sending ice down your spine and a melting heat between your thighs.

He waits for your prompt, his radiating need causing your posture to wither as you slant up and into him, “What is it?”

Whatever upward curve your lips adopted seconds before falls away as your eyes close, that heat between your thighs now wetter, your grip on his leg tight enough to pinch.

“I’m gonna take you out again tonight, gonna lay you in the grass and fuck you dumb, listenin’ to you whine loud as you can.”

He’s utterly pleased with the visible, hitching breath you can no longer take in, your chest pausing in its stunted passing, and he straightens up his back again to look down at you with his face shadowed under his hat. “Ain’t that somethin’ old girl, the little lady is speechless…” Jack coos to the horse and she puffs, followed by another pat of her hoof on the ground, and his grin is a mix of genuine and egotistical happiness.

“Jack,” you purr, all bothered and wobbly-knees, a helpless look in your eye as you tug the looped rope, and he prepares to ride back off. He doesn’t partake in your pleading this time, instead giving a squeeze of his legs over Sylvie’s back.

“Same place, darlin’,” he calls, “I expect you.” 

A backward glance and a tip of his hat as courtesy— or to make up for his foolish teasing— and his figure dies off in the gunpowder dust behind him and his girl, his jacket the same one you’d worn your first time away. 

-

It’s cool and dark the next time you step out onto the porch, carefully shutting the door behind you, locking it with your key. You rub your hands over the sides of your arms as you creep over the wood, peeking past the pillars before descending the three short steps. Same place, he’d said, so you set off in the direction of the stables, bathed in the soft light of the spaced lamp posts, the same exhilarating rush as the first time bubbling head to toe. 

“Ever heard of a sweet little maid ‘round here?” Jack’s happy rumbling sounds just behind you, turning into laughter at the yelp you let out, its sound squeaky and fearful until he catches you by the waist, pulling your back into his chest to sway your body around aimlessly. “Works for a Mrs. Adler, prettiest face you ever saw…”

An endeared giggle falls out of you, mouth covered immediately by your hand when he comes to place his chin on your shoulder, his fingers pressing tightly to your middle. His clothing feels rough by your neck, unlike anything else you’ve felt him wearing against you, but his cheek is soft and freshly shaven, his lips hungrily kissing behind your ear.

“Oh, I’m not so sure I have…” you murmur, allowing yourself to sink backward into his promising support, and his hum is sweet into your skin when you say so, arms squeezing you just enough for your feet to lift from the ground. 

“She’s got angel eyes,” he whispers, a finger coming to trail down your cheek as he lets you back down, until his hand cups your chin, turning your head sideways to capture your lips in a deep, swelling kiss. Your own hand rises to mirror his gesture, knees suddenly like water with their wobbly weakness, and the ball of your foot scrapes over the dust as he tugs you even closer, tasting your lips. 

“That might ring a bell,” you smile when you finally part, stroking your thumb over his jaw. He likes the way it feels, tilting himself further into your light grip of his face. The world surrounding you will never be the same level of interest when he stands before you— a daydream of an outing only seems as sweet if he’s there. A guidance, of sorts, a protector.

Roaming your eyes over him, a surprised gasp follows that welcoming kiss when you notice his top half covered in a navy blue poncho, its edges finished with white tassels and the wool adorned with white lines making intricate patterns over the length and width of it.

“Where have you been hiding this from me?” you simper, picking up the edge of it to feel the slightly scratchy material. He grins, weight shifting to one foot with a cocked hip, hands resting at the base of his suspenders underneath.

“Hidin’ it?”

“You’ve always got that jacket on,” you murmur, leaning upward, grabbing his face in an internal fit of fondness at seeing him covered in the blanket-like garment, giving him a harsher kiss that surprises him enough to nearly stumble backwards. He gains his balance, beaming against your mouth as he steadies the both of you, the world returning.

“You sure keep me on my toes, little lady,” he breathes, brows raised in bashfulness that you forget he has stored in that cocky brain. “Don’t you stop.”

Humming, your hand falling to rest on his chest as you recall more private contexts to his last words, you notice he wears a cross-body leather satchel underneath the poncho. “What have you got in there?”

“I can’t be full of surprises if you wanna make me spill ‘em all,” he teases, pushing his nose into yours, “come on, just you n’ me tonight.”

With your fingers laced together, Jack leads you through the familiar field to an unfamiliar spot at the top of a climbing hill, large rocks worsening the upward trek under the minimal light.

His hands find the backs of your thighs as he helps you over the last hump and your frustrated huff gets lost in your throat when you realize his hands are helping you up under your skirt instead of over.

“Jack,” you guffaw, using your biceps to push up and over the hard surface and he plays dumb behind you, a deep chortling following as you roll over to the flat space of dry grass above it. Looking ahead you notice a small gathering of wood placed in a circle around the center of the clearing in the trees while Jack rolls up next to you, much more gracefully with what must be years of practice.

He shares a sideways glance with you, “What?” 

His pouty lips drag downward in his falsely innocent question, your eyes rolling without annoyance but with affection. He grabs your hand again, tugging you near the woodpile and he reaches into the satchel, revealing a box of matches in his palm.

“Is this what you did earlier?” you ask, a bewildered softness easing over your shoulders, and he nods with a grin.

“Sylvie n’ I came here to get it ready.”

Sliding the box open, he strikes the match against the rough side of the cover sleeve and the spark ignites a smoking, small flame that he holds to a coil of waxed thread under the arranged sticks and wood. It catches on and flourishes upward, sprinkling tiny sparks that rise then fall by Jack as he recoils, standing back up to his feet.

“How’s that?” he looks at you, pulling you into his warm side, your fingers instinctively wrapping around a tassel. You raise your other hand to hover over the fire, its heat so pleasant and lively on your skin and you look back at him with the same fondness as always for his generous gifts, that might not even be considered a gift to anyone else but you.

“Thank you, Jack.” On your tiptoes, you place a kiss on his cheek filled with all the words you can’t think to say— it’s only a campfire, and to you, it holds all his care, burning there.

“There’s more,” he whispers, and his fingers rise to touch where your lips had just been, then he looks to them and you, smiling. “Said you wished you could run,” he starts, pointing to an old, battered tin can sitting atop a tree stump several feet away, “reckon there’s a few things you’ll need to learn first.”

From underneath the wool, he pulls out one of his revolvers and it shines in the flickering fire, freshly polished. He extends his hand, your own hesitantly touching it’s handle, cupping the barrel with the other as you slowly hold it on your own.

“Jack, I really don’t know about—”

“Careful,” he coos, circling back to stand behind you and placing his hands on your hips, he helps you adjust your grip with the beginning of his lesson whispered into your ear, his hands gentle as they cover yours. “Two hands.”

“I’m not sure I’m the gun slinging type,” you whisper nervously, your palms becoming clammy just handling the weapon, and you remember when its silver glint was pointed at Mr Porter, under its power.

“Always assume a gun’s loaded,” he continues, aiding you in extending your arms out, the aim at the can improving as you go. “Feet apart.”

With the toe of his boot on the inside of your ankle, he pushes your feet further apart until shoulder-width, and your shoe slides over the dry grass as you suck in a deep breath at the physical order. 

“Hold it tighter,” he whispers next, ensuring your fingers are hugging the grip tightly, your other hand cupping the trigger guard firmly. “Don’t leave your finger on the trigger unless you’re aimed and ready.” 

Jack is rasping now, a growing hardness on your ass from watching you handle his own weapon with determination and he pinches your hips, inciting a gasp as you try to keep your arms steady.

“The cylinder's full,” he adds, “you hit the can and I’ll make good on my promise.”

With the shot of arousal that comes after his words and the reminder of his promise to fuck you hard over the grass, it’s too easy to convince yourself that you’ll miss every shot.

“Won’t somebody hear it?” you question, turning your head as far as you can and he hums thoughtfully, pinching you softer.

“It’s luck if you hear a gunshot from a distance,” Jack soothes. And it hits you, that when Mr. Porter and Mr. Bryant started shooting blindly in the house, that those were the closest bullets had ever been to you— and here, you hold them in your palms.

“Go on, sugar, knock it over and I’ll fuck you right by this fire.”

A whine escapes you before you can aim it again, the grip even sweatier than before, the fire merely a glint now as you focus on the target tin.

Locking your grip around the handle, your pointers steadying the direction, you shut one eye, then the other to test the placement, and you pull back the hammer with a stretch of your thumb.

“I’m scared,” you breathe as your arms remain pointed forward, and Jack nods, applying pressure to your shoulders with his palms.

“I’ll keep you steady. S’okay if you miss.” Jack rubs some of the tension away, your arms growing tired from holding them up as you make one last adjustment. The jolt when you pull the trigger is more powerful than you’d expected, and Jack keeps you still as your body reacts to the sharp sound and the full shock of it. The bullet only just skims the side of the can, a tinkling sound following the jarring shot from the barrel.

“Fuck,” Jack breathes, his eyes wide and his smile too, when he looks from your near-shot to your frightened face turning into confidence. He throws his hat to the side, smoothing his hand through his hair before bending slightly behind you, “that was fuckin’ close, darlin’. Go again.”

His tone is pure excitement as you shake off the last lingering threads of apprehension, and you aim again, not a one inch difference from your first shot, pulling the hammer down a second time.

You place your pointer over the solid trigger and Jack’s breath hitches as he waits and watches intently, his hands still supporting your shoulders. This time, when your upper body jostles back from the force, the shot is farther off but still close, hitting the bark where a small explosion of wood chips scatter to the grass and you startle at the cracking noise, casting a worried look to Jack.

“Keep tryin’,” he soothes, cuddling his cheek to the side of your neck as he cozies up, and you’re certain it’s not the best condition for a shooting lesson, the middle of your thighs gathering slick and your palms more nervous sweat. With a deep breath, you stretch your arms out once more, muscles pulling up tight as you adjust your feet, your eyesight on the tin can reflecting the flames of the little campfire.

“That’s it,” Jack whispers as you touch your finger to the hammer, “focus.”

Scoffing, you settle your aim, determined to ignore the way he’s still pressing up against you.

“You’re doin’ great,” his voice scratches just before you pull against the trigger’s resistance and the bullet releases, harder it feels like, and pierces the tin with an incredibly loud metallic pang, sending it fast off the stump. Although you’re not too far from it, you don’t trust it yet; looking back down at the weapon in your hand and then to him, his smile already turns smug. It’s a surprise to hit it at the same time that it’s not— luck or natural talent, you don’t think you’ll ever find out. He shakes his head with pride dripping all over, crushing you into his side with a tense squeeze of his arm, your neck fitting in the bend of his elbow.

“That’s too quick,” you breathe in modesty that Jack tells you to shush away, as your disbelieving eyes fall back on the tree stump, tin can-less. “I wasn’t far away enough.”

“Come on, darlin’.” He disembarks, jogs to the stump, picks up the can behind it. A hole burns through the center on both sides. “Still shot it on the third try.”

When he arrives at your feet again, you peer down at the silver gun in your hold. Struggling to accept your own accuracy, you slowly hand it back to him.

“It'll be harder next time,” he purrs, sliding it back into its holster pocket, “but I think you’ll make the most charmin’ gunfighter in the whole damn world.”

“That’s your title,” you smile, brushing the dark hair from his forehead, curling your fist into the wool draped over him. “And the most handsome, too.”

Jack’s chest puffs out against yours as he preens at your softly-spoken compliment, the tone of his hum pitched in a questioning way to urge you on to continue.

“I’d rather like to learn more about that lasso,” you say instead, fingering where it’s attached to his hip, and he looks at you through his eyelashes, closing his hand around the one fisted in his poncho.

“Hell, if I taught you the ropes I doubt you’d let me out of your room for a whole week, darlin’. We’d better work up to that…”

“Oh well,” you tease, perching yourself up to level your lips with his ear, “you’re too soft on me to be my teacher anyway.”

“Too soft?” He raises his brows, eager to know, causing you to step back as he advances on you.

“Too easy. I ought to shoot that can three more times from ten more feet away just to be sure I’ve learned.”

Jack lays the thick blanket next to the crackling fire after pulling it out of the satchel, motioning for you to come.

“Sugar, I’ll show you rough,” he grumbles, dragging you down to the blanket with him, your chest thumping square on his when you land, a stunted breath into his mouth. His promise, listenin’ to you whine as loud as you can, returns to you now as he holds the back of your neck and opens his lips to brush yours, nipping your lower lip to earn the first wince.

“Don’t disappoint me,” you taunt, landing yourself rolled over and pinned under his heavy weight as he lifts the poncho from his head and drapes it over your bodies, hidden and warm together as you share the fiery heat of yourselves and the physical fire beside you.

“I’d hate nothin’ more than to disappoint you.” He keeps his eyes trained on your face as his fingers creep up your leg, a soft ghosting until he reaches the stark wetness compared to your dry skin everywhere but your core and he’s already groaning at just the sensation of your slick covering his fingers. “Think I could fill you right now, hm? Soakin’ me so fast…”

“I need you to fuck me as hard as you can,” you demand, your head tipping back against the ground underneath the blanket, heat accumulating in your own makeshift tent of the dark poncho. His fingers twitch over your clit as he watches your face twist in effort to get your last coherent thoughts out, “This is where I can cry.”

“Jesus,” his head falls into your shoulder and he rubs his cock on your thigh, covered by his trousers. He’s hard and thick, just as he was watching you shoot his gun, and he lifts your skirt higher, bunching the fabric at your waist. “You always get what you ask for from me.”

Blindly searching with your fingers, you find the buttons of his trousers and pull them open, carefully taking his cock out, the tip leaking generously onto your skin. You spread it for him though it runs out quickly, but your own burning arousal is enough for the two of you as he settles himself closer, his hair flopping out of place. His moustache brushes against your temple when he spreads your legs wider, a soothing slide of your skin over the blanket before you feel his cock running through your slick folds, and it’s enough to start whining. Even the little sounds you let out at the house are suppressed and quietened— here, there is no one but the two of you.

“Give it all to me, baby doll,” he rasps over your throat as he positions himself and pushes past your entrance, slowly stretching you open on his thick cock and your thighs fall open wider, too, your breath heavy and low for him to bask in. “Ain’t that sweet…”

Jack’s eyes carry the glint of the fire beside your bodies as he stays there for some moments, letting you squirm all you need before he flattens you to the ground with his chest, cooing encouraging gentleness to contrast with the untamed way he’s going to fuck you here, on the blanket, again. His cock pushes deeper with the added mass, your whimper not enough when he finally thrusts and hits his hips to your wide-spread thighs and works the wetness of you all over his cock.

“Ja— Jack—” you whine, and his hot hand soon comes to glide over the innermost part of your thigh, rubbing it firmly as if he’s about to—

He spanks your thigh and earns the high-pitch moan he’s been working for all along, drawing himself back to return with a harsh thrust as he keeps his hand on the stinging sensation, groaning out his nose.

“Fu-uuck, there we go, that’s what I wanted,” he grunts through stunted breaths as he sets a new, punishing pace, sliding with ease in and out, hitting deep inside to brush against that satisfying spot that when he slaps the same part of your leg, the pleasure from both makes you cry louder, moan louder.

He draws the wool tighter around his back as he lowers his lips to your mouth, emitting an animalistic groan over your face when you clench around his cock and pull him in closer for another open-mouthed kiss, true and full.

“Oh, god,” you groan, his hand caressing the underside of your thigh, until he draws it up to push your knee on your chest, fitting his hand in the bend of your leg.

“Gimme more, sugar,” he demands, landing a sharp swat to the side of your ass lifted off the ground that gives him your neediest, filthiest sound yet as you fist his hair, taking his brutal pace. 

“Jack, fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“Fuck,” he curses back harder, “I’m gonna steal you every god damn night for this.” Jack hisses through bared teeth on your collarbone, keening when you raise your hips to meet his. The fire rises beside you at the same time a wave of building pressure in your abdomen knocks through your lower half, and you place your hands on his face, sliding them up to meet his hair.

A shaky breath puffs out of you, the sting of his spankings spreading over your leg as you crane your neck and cry out while he buries himself and grinds against your clit, “You just get wetter n’ wetter for me,” he remarks hoarsely, “just can’t help but need me, hm?”

“I... Yes,” you sigh into his heated neck, your limbs softening in their hold of him as he fucks you hard over the blanket, his grip deathly on the side of your thigh.

“I want to hear it, darlin’, say it to me,” he scrapes, his voice at the bottom of his register, and when the words get stuck in your mind and jumbled out of order from the fullness of your core, he draws himself out and rolls you onto your stomach. Mindlessly, empty, you whine with an equal hoarseness to his own, the end of it pushed out prematurely when he flattens his chest over your back, lining his cock back up with your soaking entrance.

“I’ll pull every last pretty sound you got left in you if I have to.” 

The words are a terrible blow to your senses, sparking a rapid increase in the sound of rushing blood in your ears as he pushes your thigh up to the side and presses down on it with his palm.

“Please…” you breathe, “I’m so close— fuck me, please fuck me again—”

Shutting your eyes, hoping to feel him push himself back inside you, you instead are met with a final, cracking swat on your leg that sends you wailing as Jack waits for you to scream it, “Tell me, sugar!”

“I need you, Jack— I need you!” 

It doesn’t sound like your own voice. Never has it been clouded by so much desire and such a sinful edge to your witless begging, but it’s enough for him. A push forward, and he fills you; his own sounds have grown needier too, reaching far out. He plants a hand by your face and you grab onto his wrist as he shoves his cock repeatedly deeper and at this angle, you could consider the punishing stretch of him painful, but it’s everything you need, causing you to whine a step higher every time his hips hit your ass.

“You’re all I fuckin’ think about, darlin’,” Jack mouths at your earlobe, your bodies turning slick under the poncho and your clothes, “here you are, shootin’ my gun n’ lettin’ me fuck your tight little pussy, beggin’ for me— gonna make me fuckin’ cum.”

Your jaw drops and an involuntary squeal stumbles from your hanging lip, Jack snarling behind you as he plunges again, hooking his hands under your shoulders and splaying his fingers wide over the tops of them.

It’s a taut stretch of your chest when he pulls on you like that, the soft curl of his hair tickling your neck as he nestles his face to yours and muffles his grunts and groans. You pull up tighter around him, squeezing his cock, nearly driving him to collapse over your back when he feels it happen and what is easily his hardest, neediest and wrecked groan tears out and spreads over your limbs with the rumbling breath he takes after.

“Jaaack,” you whisper, his movements heavily weighing on you, your body resting just at the precipice of something overwhelming, “So… full..”

“I’m gonna fuck my cum into that sweet cunt.” Jack fists the blanket with his supporting hand and the next time he rams his hips forward, a full-bodied scream fills the air, and once more, you squeeze him tighter as you cum hard around his cock, your nails starting to dig into his wrist as he fucks you through it. 

“Baby doll, you’re too fuckin’ good to me— squeeze me so fuckin’ tight when you cum, keep it comin’—”

“Oh god, oh god, oh god— fuck!”  You can’t stop gushing around him as his thrusts lose rhythm, as he focuses more on the sounds you’re making and the grip you have on his cock and it just won’t end, tears beginning to form in your eyes while the movements never cease.

“That is just heavenly,” he says with a strained laugh, “shit, you really did need me, huh? You want my cum inside you too? Want to be spoiled?”

“Yes!” you cry, miraculously raising your ass just a little against his cock as the orgasm finally calms, a growl and a bite on your shoulder at your ceaseless will to beg.

“Take it.” One final, gorgeous moan from his throat and he buries himself, a wet warmth painting your walls, his chest deflating as he settles around your back and rubs your thigh in a soft contrast to what was his stinging swats minutes before. He blows and pants to recuperate, and as he brings himself out, you feel the warmth spreading and dripping down to your clit. For a moment, you share the breaths you’re both trying to catch, but the sensation of his cum sliding over your skin is yet another obstacle to returning to a manageable state of being.

“This…” he whispers, taking his hand back, leaning on his other elbow to support himself as he slides his fingers under your skirt to lead them to your swollen cunt, “is my favourite, darlin’.” He spreads his cum over your folds, milky liquid sliding wherever he traces, and you push back on your knees to raise yourself for him while he guides it back inside you, your throat tired but still whimpering as he pushes his fingers in.

“Keep me inside,” he murmurs on your temple, urging you to lay back down over the plushy blanket, and as you relax, mussed and twinkling by the fire, he drapes the poncho over your body, tucking the fabric under your sides. He strokes your cheek with the dry hand, lifting your head to his lap as he carefully sits by you, your eyes delicately fluttering closed. 

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, and without opening your eyes, you shake your head no. Jack makes a purring sound, considering the moans his actions pulled out of you, and he begins to stroke your face some more. “Hope I never do,” he adds softly, studying your peaceful expression under the firelight and stars, “you’re soft.”

The last two words make you blink and smile up at him, finally granting him a peek which he returns with curved lips, and you know that “soft” doesn’t mean “weak” when he says it.

“I got an idea of where to take you next, if you think you can handle it...”

-

tags for yeehonk idiot:

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