#dj martini

[martiniluvr]

“jason todd is miserable and tortured and that’s just how it has to be” ok but have you considered this song is literally him if things had been different. have you ever thought of that.

[h0undeye]

hey so

. hi

i dont have a silly caption im dropping this and RUNNING

[candy-pants]

My favorite international Disney Channel ex-acts (2/?): Bruno Martini

Brazilian musician, songwriter, producer and DJ. Was a member of College 11, a Brazilian pop duo signed to Walt Disney Records, and starred in Que Talento! (2014-2016).

[reilemon]

🍸⋆｡°✩ Passion Star Martini ✩⋆｡°🍸

♡︎ synopsis: Xavier can't help but feel a little jealous when he sees you having a good time on the dancefloor.

♡︎ pairing: Xavier x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎ cw: drinking alcohol, some grinding on the dancefloor, semi-public sex (bathroom sex), hair pulling (just a little), Xavier being a tease (and possessive), also choking (barely tho)

♡︎ word count: 3k

♡︎ a/n: Is it dancefloor or dance floor? 🕴️

♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this!

banner by @cafekitsune

You exit the bathroom after freshening up. Tonight, one of your friends is celebrating her birthday at a nightclub and you are so glad you had time and energy to go out because you were having a blast. First of all, you’re with all of your friends, the DJ was playing good music (he also said that he’ll grant you and your friend a music wish, something that never happens) and the bartender made your favorite cocktail just right. Also, you know you look good because you’re wearing your new favorite mini dress and your hair and makeup are flawless. But most importantly, your boyfriend is here!

Xavier came to the club after you drank your first cocktail. He finished his mission later than expected, and on top of that, he also needed to shower and dress up. The two of you never spent an actual night out together, so you were hoping that he’ll show up. Obviously, you wouldn’t mind if he didn’t, but there is something so exciting about enjoying some mindless fun with your partner while also looking cute. Hot, actually.

When you noticed him approaching your booth, your excitement fizzled out immediately because you noticed how tired he is. He didn’t let it show, but you spent enough time with him to know by just his walk that he is ready for bed.

He settled next to you after greeting you and your friends. He gave you a peck on the lips and then his eyes took in your whole figure “You look stunning.” You heard his voice good enough over the music.

You blushed and thanked him, wrapping your arms around his bicep. You’ve received so many compliments this evening, but his is the only one that mattered.

Now that you can got a better look at his face and his heavy eyelids, you couldn't help but feel guilty. “You really didn’t have to come if you’re so tired.”

He looked at you for a moment then shook his head. “I’m not. Let’s go get drinks.”

He was in fact tired. Poor guy started nodding off in the booth after getting drinks, so you tried to convince him to go home, but he was set on staying. Downing your second drink, you hit the dancefloor with your friends, letting your boyfriend continue sleeping resting his eyes in the booth.

You go back to your friends, just in time to hear the DJ playing the song you requested. You were hoping you’d be dancing with your boyfriend to it, so you glance at the booth, hoping he’s awake. Your eyes scan in the direction where he should be, but you only see some of your friends sitting there.

A gasp escapes your lips when a hand snakes around your waist from the opposite direction.

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To say that Xavier was exhausted was an understatement. Not only did he get held up at the mission longer, but he had to go to a nightclub as well. His usual routine after finishing work was – shower, eat either alone or with you and then fall asleep reading a book, preferably with you snuggled up in his arms. And he could’ve just rejected your invitation, but he knows that it’s good to break a routine once in a while. But more importantly, he got to spend more time with you like this and in a different setting.

But the darkness inside the nightclub mixed with the bass made him even more tired. And he felt so bad about it, because he saw how excited you were when he came.

And you look so breathtaking. You’re always beautiful but tonight you really went out of your way to look good, and he couldn’t help but stare at your body, how that dress fit you perfectly – and how it barely covered up anything.

His new mission was to stay awake.

But his eyes were betraying him and soon he had to convince you that he’s fine and that he’s just going to rest his eyes for a bit.

With his arms and legs crossed, he started dozing off, the thrumming of the bass weirdly lulling him to sleep.

But then he’d open his eyes, searching for you.

That’s how the beginning of the night went for him – resting his eyes for a moment, and then the next he’s watching you on the dancefloor, making sure that you’re okay.

You were more than okay.

Xavier was happy to see you having a good time, dancing and laughing with your friends. Then you started dancing with your male friend. Nothing inappropriate, but the sight of that man getting to touch you at all made his heart skip a beat. It’s fine, you give him no reason to worry. He doesn’t want to act all jealous and ruin the mood. He should just sit here for a little longer, recuperate some more and then he can join you.

But his mind doesn’t let him rest for long, so he looks for you again.

You wandered off with your friend to the DJ booth. What are you doing there? He can’t get a good look from where he’s sitting, so he stands up and moves through the crowd. He manages to find a good spot where you can’t notice him but he has a good enough view. The way you talk, smile, and even look at that man makes his heart race. And when he sees the way that man checks you out as you walk away is where he gets pissed off.

He shouldn’t be, but he is.

He knew how friendly and flirty you get when you have alcohol in your system, and he can’t blame others for staring because you’re so irresistible.

You walk away from the DJ booth to the bathroom, so he uses that time to go to the bar and take a shot.

He’s wide awake now.

⁺˚⋆｡°₊✩₊°⁺˚⋆｡⁺

You crane your neck and your eyes meet Xavier's - those deep blue eyes are definitely not sleepy anymore. The words get lost in your throat under his intense gaze, so you just smile and start dancing to your song. The hand around your waist goes to the middle of your belly to press you against against him, still leaving some space for you to move, while the other one rests on your hip. You act coy as your butt grazes his crotch as you sway and move to the rhythm. You can feel his body move perfectly to the beat, and you can't help but look over your shoulder to see him dance, his hips and shoulders moving in just the right ways while his full attention is on you, which makes him so much more attractive.

The song changes to a slower one so he spins you around, pressing you between your shoulder blades, bringing your chest flush against his. A gasp leaves your lips as you feel his firm thigh sneak it's way between your legs and against your clothed sex. You’re met with a lustful gaze when you look at him to comment on the position he has you in. You're speechless once again as his hands start guiding your hips, making you slowly and subtly grind on his thigh.

And you give in.

The dance floor is packed - everybody’s just enjoying themselves, minding their business, lost in the music or drunken daze. The two of you managed to separate from your friends while dancing, and some of them went back to take a break in the booth. You felt like you were in a trance; the bass was pulsating through your body, Xavier’s hands on your hip and lower back, taking the lead and moving your hips in the rhythm of the songs, arousal pooling between your legs.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a searing kiss. His hand starts roaming - one holds you by the back of your neck while the other one teases it's way under the hem of your dress.

Lithe fingers tickle the soft skin of your inner thighs, making your pussy flutter and you pull back from the kiss, stopping the roaming hand by the wrist "We should go back to my friends."

Xavier exhales through his nose and rests his forehead against yours. "Are you sure?" You open your mouth to answer but the thigh between your legs moves up at a particular angle, catching the hood of your clit and eliciting an embarrassing yelp from your lips.

You hold onto his shoulders as he continues moving his his leg, and you have to gather all of your willpower to resist moving your hips to hump his thigh.

"Xavier, people are gonna see - " You pant, your voice barely reaching him over the music

"So? They should know you're mine." You hear his steely cool voice perfectly.

You frown in confusion as you observe his serious face "What are you - ?"

"Everyone got your attention tonight, what about me?"

You pull away from his embrace at the ridiculous comment, and you can see the instant regret on his face when you do so, with his puppy eyes widening and lips parting.

You barely hear him utter "excuse me" as he lets go of you and hurries off the dance floor.

You stare at his back for a moment, and then you start following him immediately or you'll lose him in the crowd. Squeezing through dancing bodies, you manage to spot your boyfriend's silver fluffy hair going towards the bathrooms. You take in a breath of relief as you stagger away from the stuffy dancefloor, just in time to see Xavier shut the door behind him. The fresh(er) air and brighter lights, also your runaway boyfriend, flush away most of the alcohol buzz you had. Now Xavier is to blame for how wobbly you are in your heels, and your tingling lips.

You knock on the door and call out to Xavier to let you in. A few seconds later, the doors open just enough for you to sneak inside, although there was no one around at the moment.

You step into the single stall bathroom. This one is a little different than the one you were in, with the pink lights and aqua blue lit up sink counter. You love how it actually smells nice and is clean (perks of spending money on a fancy nightclub).

You lock the door and then lean against it, Xavier right in front of you.

You cross your arms "So what was that?"

Xavier, still looking like a hurt puppy, lightly caresses your upper arms "I'm sorry, that was such a stupid comment. I shouldn't complain when I spent the whole night sleeping in the booth."

"But why did you say that everyone got my attention?"

He steps away from you and leans on the sink "I - " He exhales and shakes his head "Doesn't matter. Wanna go back to your friends? Next round's on me."

You push yourself off the door and step towards him "Did I do something? I though we were having a good time."

Xavier softly smiles and shakes his head, "You were wonderful." His fingers graze your cheek and he carefully places a light peck on your lips, worried you might reject him. His shoulders relax when you don't, and he presses a more deliberate kiss.

You uncross your arms, your hands holding his face. You chuckle against his lips "You're such a dummy."

He blushes at your words and laughs softly, his arms wrapping around your torso to pull you into a tight embrace, your head resting on his shoulder.

"And I'm sorry if I took it too far at the dancefloor." He murmurs.

You chuckle and look up at him, "You didn't."

With that, you peck him on the cheek and move to take a look at yourself in the mirror (it's cool that it lights up at a touch), bending over the sink, and Xavier takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist, admiring you in the reflection. You smile at him in the mirror before turning the light off.

"We should go back." You tell him when he doesn't move.

And he still doesn't. He only hums in response and starts nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. He inhales your scent, hands roaming from your waist, to hold your hips, gently swaying them this time how he pleases.

He whispers, "You look so irresistible," a whimper escapes your lips as he grounds his crotch against your butt, lifting your dress in the motion, "it felt so good to have you dance against me like that."

You hold onto the sink as you arch your back and close your eyes, the feeling of his hard clothed cock rubbing against you awakening your arousal again, the dress now almost completely hiked up. His lips latch onto your neck as they suck hungrily on the sensitive skin, and one hand starts fondling your breast.

"Xavier - " You pant "We have to - " you whisper weakly, the rest of the sentence evaporating from your mind as you feel him sneak a finger over your soaked panties.

"You're right," He coos as the fingertip finds your bud, slowly rubbing it, "We don't wanna keep them waiting."

You don't notice when his hand leaves your breast from how dazed the finger on your clit is making you feel. Then you hear the belt buckle clinking and unzipping, and you only half open your eyes, meeting Xavier's in the mirror.

"That's right bunny, keep your eyes on me" He whisper as he pulls your panties to the side, sliding his cock back and forth between your folds, getting soaked in your essence.

You whimper as the tip pushes through your entrance, the slight sting disappearing quickly as Xavier rubs soothing circles on your clit. His other hand finds your breasts again, impatiently pushing down the top of the dress along with your bra, your breasts spilling out, his fingers toying with your nipples.

Your head drops as he bottoms out and you bite your bottom lip to prevent a loud moan slipping past your lips. But the finger on your sensitive nub is ruthless, making you cream around his thick cock that's starting to piston in and out of your fluttering pussy. He then picks up your leg with his other hand and resting your knee on the sink, giving him a better view of your dripping entrance taking in his dick. You arch your back more, holding onto the sink, eyes squeezed shut, your lips timidly spilling out quiet mewls and whimpers as Xavier is now pounding into you, both hands holding onto your hips in a bruising grip. The squelching sounds of your cunt and skin slapping fills the bathroom and you're sure it can be heard from outside even over the music.

Then you feel one hand on your scalp, grabbing a fistful of your hair and gently tugging it, making you lift you head and look at him in the mirror and your pussy clenches at the sight of his hooded eyes laced with lust, knitted brows and parted lips.

He grunts "Eyes on me pretty girl." The hand on your hair moving to wrap around your throat, only lightly squeezing the sides of your neck. "Let me hear you."

You purse your lips and shake your head, or as much as you can move in his grip.

Suddenly he completely pulls out, and you whine as your needy hole clenches around nothing.

He chuckles and leans forwards, his breath fanning over your ear, giving you goosebumps all over your body.

"I guess we can go back to your friends then."

Your mouth falls open but nothing is coming out. You just gape at him for a few seconds shocked, but then you protest in a breathless voice "But what if someone hears us?"

"Let them." You jolt as he lines himself up again, "I want everyone to hear how good I make you feel." and a loud moan escapes your lips as he grabs your hip and buries himself to the hilt in one sharp thrust.

"Good girl."

Between his own grunts he praises you breathlessly

as he's thrusting vigorously, your butt bouncing with every thrust and smack of his pelvis, his hand leaving your throat to rub your clit again.

you're so beautiful

you're taking me so well

my good girl

The leg that you're standing on starts to shake as you feel the heat pooling in your lower belly, your pussy spasming around his cock that's hitting all of your sweet spots.

"Eyes on me, bunny." Xavier rasps, his own release nearing, when he notices your eyes fluttering shut.

With a vice grip on the sink you come hard around his dick, your eyes barely open, and you almost tumble over as your leg gives out from the intensity of your orgasm, but Xavier's hands wrap around your torso to keep you from falling. He presses his own against your back, arms wrapped around your waist as he ruts into you, riding out your high and chasing his own. Xavier buries his face in the crook of your neck, and pants mine, mine, mine before his mouth latches onto the soft skin. Your eyes roll back, head thrown back as he sinks his teeth into the side of your neck, burying his throbbing dick inside your still fluttering cunt, and filling you up with his hot cum.

With languid thrusts, the last spurts of his seed come out, both of you catching your breaths and coming to your senses. Xavier sucks and licks the bruised skin and then places a soft kiss on your sweat covered temple.

"Are you okay? Was I too rough?" You turn your head over your shoulder and you meet those familiar soft eyes.

"I'm okay, don't worry."

With a relieved sigh, he gives your lips a tender kiss.

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Before you exit the bathroom, you give yourself one last look in the mirror, eyeing the angry red love bite.

You turn to Xavier who's unlocking the door, "This is gonna be really hard to hide."

He looks back to see what you're talking about. When you point at your neck, he sweetly says "Sorry about that."

He's not sorry at all.

[lloromanic0]

drunk sex with bill or tom i don’t mind 😆 (if ur comfortable)

Hii thank you so much for the request as always I hope you like it! <3

!Smut MDNI!

Content: alcohol consumption (obviously),regular smut descriptions.

Drunk sex with Bill

Bill had been telling you how much he wanted to go to this new bar,he sat down next to you showing you some pictures of it, lights were almost inexistent only some red and blue lamps here and there, on the other side of the building there were some private rooms with black leather couches and small tables,two dance floors and a common drinking area which appeared to be the only one with decent lighting.

“I don’t know Bill…”

“Oh cmon y/n it will be fun, I can’t remember the last time we went out on our own.”

“I mean you’re right..”

“See! I swear if you’re not having fun we’ll go home right away.”

“Okay okay fine.”

Bill jumped from the couch in excitement, leaning down to give a really tight hug and kiss you all over your face. You rolled your eyes playfully at him as he walked out of the room smiling at you. Bill loved matching his outfits with you whenever you guys went out and today was no exception, you decided to keep it more on the casual side with some low rise flared dark grey jeans, a black top and a leather jacket each one of you individually picked your favorite accessories.

After a 20 minute drive you arrived at the bar, Bill held your hand as you walked in the front door making your way through the crowd.

“This is actually kinda nice.” You shrugged.

“See I told you! Do you want something do drink?”

“Some caramel licor would be nice to start with.”

“Okay my love, find a table and I’ll be right back.” Replied Bill as he walked to the bar.

You found a table to sit at, burying yourself in the dark red sofa waiting for your boyfriend to come back.

“Here you go!” He extended his hand to you giving you the drink. You sat up and thanked him. Bill got himself a fresh Margarita, you tried each other’s drinks before finishing the whole thing. For the next hour Bill was practically glued to the bar counter, a few mimosas,mojitos & martinis between each song the Dj played. Now you were most definitely having fun, you didn’t even notice Bill disappearing in the middle of your dance, just coming back to surprise you with more drinks.

“You need to try this Tequila Sunrise!” Exclaimed Bill. You took a sip of the cold beverage the orange flavor and the strong alcohol taste melting on your mouth as your body temperature kept rising and your head felling fuzzier. You placed down your drink and grabbed Bills hand so you could whisper in his ear.

“How about we go into one of those private rooms you told me about.” He looked away from you shyly,his face was completely red, you weren’t sure if it was due to the embarrassment or because he was most definitely drunk. You grabbed his hand guiding him to the other side of the building, his flimsy steps following behind you, you asked for a key at the reception desk and looked back at him, Bill could never hide that he was drunk his body language was all you needed to observe, the way he couldn’t maintain eye contact with you and his body felling both light and hot.

You pulled him inside the room closing the door behind him, there was a large black couch,a short table,a small cabinet with water bottles and a TV with speakers. The lights were low and warm,which made a lovely contrast with the dark red carpet that covered the whole floor. You pushed Bill on the couch getting on top of him right after, he placed his hands on your waist moving them up and down your sides as you lowered yourself onto him. You kissed his neck hungrily, bitting it a few times making Bill hiss and moan in pain & pleasure. The music from the dance floor echoed through your ears as you kept exploring Bill’s neck with your mouth. You took off your jacket throwing it in the floor along with your shirt, his hands reached up to cup your breasts making you smile as he squeezed them together.

“You’re so beautiful babe.” Said Bill with a soft voice his eyes half opened, he sat up unclipping your bra.

“You have cute tits.” He spoke, pinching one of your niples, you slightly jump at the light pain he inflicted on you, his mouth got close to your breast sucking on your left nipple while squeezing the right one, you softly moan as he kept licking and sucking your tits. He pulled away from them with a pop sound.

“Take those off for me.” He muttered softly,playing with the waist of your pants, you got up taking them off slowly, putting on a show for him as his outline of his hard cock made his pants look almost see through.

“Fuck baby you’re such a tease.” He murmured getting up from the couch, his tall figure approaching yours. He grabbed your hand guiding it to his aching boner, you palmed him through his pants making him throw his head back.

“Please Y/N let me fuck you, I need it.”

He couldn’t even look in your eyes, his mind felt fuzzy and his body boiling the only thing he knew is that he needed to fuck you more than anything.

You bend over the couch looking back at him, swaying your hips seductively in a way to invite him. He came closer to you slapping your ass somewhat hard but not enough to actually hurt you, he would never do that. He pulled down his pants along with his underwear his cock sprung out lightly hitting his lower stomach, you bite your lip at the sight. Bill placed his tip over your entrance, stroking it up and out teasing you a little more rubbing circles on your clit,making your legs tremble at the sensation. He grabbed you hips forcefully, his cock now slowly entering your warm hole,you moan lowly at the contact adjusting to his size every time he inserted an inch in you. The rush of the alcohol and horniness began to take over your body as Bill thrusted into you.

“Fuck…you’re so tight oh my god you’re milking me…”

You moaned in response fucking your hips on his cock matching his pace.

“You’re enjoying this so much baby so eager..”

Bill wasn’t that much of a talker during sex, just the regular stuff, asking if you were fine or if you were enjoying it, but today due to his reaction to alcohol he wouldn’t keep quiet for a second.

“Bill- you’re talking to much just fuck me please~”

“Aren’t you desperate babe?” He asked slapping his hips hard on you.

“Fuck! aaahhh-“ you exclaimed loudly.

“Is that what you want to be fucked hard by me?” He questioned fucking you harder with each thrust.

“Answer me!” He demanded.

“YES! Bill yes fuck me hard just like that mmhhmm~” the pace he was using to penetrate you making hard to make up any sentences.

“That’s a good girl.” He grunted loudly.

Ramming his cock harshly in your pussy as you moaned and screamed in ecstasy and pleasure, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix as your pussy clenched around him making him exhale loudly.

“Gonna cum for me pretty girl?”

“Y-yes Bill mmhmm fuck-“

“Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock.”

His thrusts became deeper hitting your g spot, his hand moved in front of you to rub circles on your clit, the double stimulation making you shake and moan loud, one last thrust was all you needed to cum undone on Bill’s cock.

“Good job baby, just take it a little longer for me yeah?”

“Y-yes Bill.” You muttered.

His movements became sloppier as his orgasm approached, in a minute you felt your cunt getting filled with his warm semen as he fucked it back into you slowly. He stayed inside you for a few seconds before finally pulling out, making you collapse on the couch.

He opened a water bottle from the cabinet offering it to you, you thanked him taking the bottle to your lips,the cold liquid refreshing your dry mouth. He got one for himself and sat down next to you, you placed your head over his thigh as he stoked your hair with his fingers.

“You did have a good time after all.” Said Bill in a playful tone.

“I guess…” you smiled back at him.

Even if the moment was enjoyable for now and none of you got sick from the alcohol exaggeration you both knew that the next morning headache and dehydration would be unbearable, but for now you just enjoyed the warm of each other’s bodies.

————————————————————————

Note: idk if you think this is long💀 I think I get carried away with descriptions sometimes anyways I hope you liked it💕

[marilynthornhilllover]

If you’re looking for requests I have one for ya!!

Reader is at a party with their wife (or girlfriend, whichever you decide works best) Alcina. A beautiful woman walks up to reader at the bar and starts flirting with them but they’re clueless and just think she’s being friendly.

Alcina sees what’s going on and gets wildly jealous. When reader gets back to her she’s short and angry with reader. Eventually, she tells reader what she saw and reader is shocked that the girl was flirting with them.

Alcina gets possessive (as per usual) and takes reader into the bathroom and fucks her brains out so the only person in reader mind for the rest of the night is Alcina.

Maybe some sweet fluff at the end?

When temptations are high

Alcina dimitrescu x fem!reader

Warning: smut,slight cunniligus, slight praise kink,strap, degradation kink, possessiveness, dom!alcina, slight mean alcina, manhandling, rough sex, slight overstiumlation, slight orgasm denial, fluff.

A/n: I'm honestly sorry to howsoever requested this because it's been 42,827 years and I'm sorry, thank you for your patience 💀😭hope you enjoy😌💞🙌

The music was great and the party was very much alive. Everyone had their natural flow to the beat of the song. You and alcina were fashionably late as always. You were wearing a skin tight black slik skirt with a simple white vintage cardigan, as for alcina she was wearing black men trousers and a white blouse with the sleeves rolled up around her elbows.

Her hair was curled up around her face, every step she took they bounced. Her silhouette red heels adding to her height. You both turned some heads as you walked up to the bar to get yourselves some drinks.

Alcina made small talk with one of her friends at the bar as she waited for the bar man to hand over the drinks.

Your eyes wondered curiously around the room, flicking from couples grinding on eachother, the single ones dancing their soul out on the dance floor, the vibe was amazing. You could feel someone staring at you, you averted your eyes to the persons mysterious pull. Your eyes landed on this breath taking woman that was standing in the shadowy end on the room.

She had on a red dress that was covered in dimonds and her hairstyle was exactly the same to alcinas, except she had a side part. Her make up was dark and vibrant, alluring a soft glow when ever the lights from the DJ booth flicked across her face.

You must have been staring for too long, because the mystery woman across the room flashed you a sly smirk before turning to the girl next to her and began talking. She must have a strong effect on people because the poor started squirming and blushing drastically.

You had a huge thing for middle aged women and it was obvious just by your relationship with the alcina dimitrescu. You narrowed your eyes at the scene and turned to give your attention back to alcina who was now in another conversation with someone else.

The bartender handed you your drink, a martini, light ice and alcinas ruby red Italian wine. You gaved her drink to her which she glady took, giving you a kiss on the cheek and flashing you a small smile as she returned to her conversation.

You sighed and decided to walk around the room. The music changed to a soft romantic jazz. You smiled and proceeded to turn around to go back to alcina so that the both of you can dance, since of course she loved jazz music but you bumped into someone almost falling down.

A strong pair of hands grabbed your waist quickly and held you close to them. You caught yourself and sighed. Looking up to see the same mystery woman staring into your soul. God she was beautiful. You got lost in her emerald eyes as she gently pulled you up onto your feet to stand straight - her hand never leaving your side.

"Thank you" you whispered, not trusting your voice to say anything more. You could feel your body getting hotter each passing second and it was becoming slightly impossible for you to keep your sanity.

" that skirt looks good on you" she whispered in your ear, her lips slightly hovering over your skin making you sliver. Before you can even respond with an appropriate answer she spoke up again.

" but I'm sure It will look better on my bedroom floor" you were utterly lost for words. She pulled you closer to her and placed a soft but meaning kiss to your neck before sighing, she rested her face into your neck leaving a few more kisses there before she completely released you from her hold.

It took every cell in your body to try not to whine at the lost of contact. You should be ashamed of yourself. You were as red as a tomato if not more red , and sweating ducks. She smiled seductively at you before taking out a business card and giving it to you. She leaned into your ear again and spoke.

" if you ever get bored of the eiffel tower" she said sarcastically, and you knew who she was referring to. You bite your lip and shook your head. She walked pass you and you were immediately met with alcinas golden eyes piercing into your soul.

The were cold and full of anger. From the way her nose flared, she hands were clenched and her hooded eyes you knew it was better if you got on your knees and begged the earth to open up and suck you in because God alone knows what's running through her mind.

You gulped as you slowly walked over to her, like a scolded puppy when they know they did something wrong. As you approached her you could literally see the fire flames burning in her eyes. Her pupils dilated and she only looked at you, like an hawk looks at its prey.

You cleared your throat and stood directly infront of her. She scoffed as she looked down and saw the business card in your hand. She looked over at the woman across the room and glared at her, the lady only raising her glass as if she's making a toast before smirking and walking towards the DJ booth. Alcina suddenly grabbed hold of your wrist and pulled you towards the bathroom area.

She pushed you in harshly but still making sure not to hurt you in the process.

" what the fuck was that!" She shouted her eyes flicking a deadly golden color clear evidence she was completely perplexed and wasn't going to take any bullshit amswer from you. When you didn't answer but instead looked down she tore the business card away from your hand and tore it to pieces before throwing it the trash can.

" if I didn't know better I would think that you wanted her to fuck you right then and there in front of everyone" she spoke through gritted teeth. You didn't expect to get on her bad side tonight, tonight was supposed to be special, a little night out so that the both of you can relax and take a break from work.

She grabbed your chin and forced you to look up at her.

" Your lucky I love you enough not to go to jail otherwise I would have snapped her in half!" She growled. You gulped as you looked into her eyes. She was absolutely serious and she was raging. Her anger is not one to be testednor doubted..It's dangerous and it shows no mercy. And when she's anger she's a completely different person. And if she says she would have snapped that woman in half you best believe it.

She groaned loudly as she harshly let go of your chin. She sighed heavily as she started to paste back and forth across the room.

" cina I'm sorry, everything happened so fast, I almost fell she helped me and- I don't have an excuse because I could have walked away I'm sorry. it's not that big of a deal. Her eyes were just so-" she cut you off by quickly walking up to you and choking you. You reached behind you to quickly hold yourself up by using the edge of the sink and she leaned you back.

" not that big of a deal? what was her fucking name" she snarled at you tightening her grip around your neck, now she was scaring you. Alcina would never hurt you but as of now her grip was cutting off your blood flow and you were losing oxygen. You couldn't even think properly but your tried to remember. You thinked back to when she handed you the card and you looked down at it.

Kate

" h-her name w-was kate" you manged to choke out, before she released you. You immediately gasped for air and you held onto her shoulder. Alcina pressed herself flush against your body and you could feel her strap. You looked up at her wide eyed and she chuckled darkly.

" it was meant to be for a surprise when we got home but my, my darling you need a punishment" she spoke in a sultry voice. Alcina smirked as she saw the blacked out expression on your face. You looked surprise but also so needy for her cock in your greedy hole. You squirmed and rubbed your thighs together but she immediately picked up on it and forced her knee between them to stop you.

She wrapped her hands around your neck again but this time more gently.

" listen to me you little slut and attention seeker, I'm gonna fuck you til you can even remember her name and yours and since you loved her eyes I'm gonna make you look at me while you come undone on mommy's strap and maybe.... who knows, maybe you'll see stars" she chuckled as you already started drooling for her.

In one swift motion alcina unbuttoned your cardigan and unclasped your bra, she lifted you up and placed you onto the counter. You spread your legs for her in a sexy way, batting your eyelashes and biting your bottom lip seductively. Alcina chuckled as she unbuttoned her pants and pulled them down enough for the strap to bounce out.

She groaned as she looked up at you and smirked.

" next time I should have you suck it off, mhm" she spoke in a teasing tone. You'd be more than happy to. Alcina took off your skirt and looked at the thin see through white thong you have on. She chuckled before ripping it, having it suffer the same fate as the business card before pushing it in her pocket. Alcina cooed as she gently ran her cold firm cock up your slit and slightly over your clit causing you to moan as your eyes rolled back.

" so desperate from mommy's cock huh? Mhm little slut who has you this wet and cock drunk?" She asked chuckling as she looked up at you smirking at your needy whimpers and pathetic moans as your eyes rolled back into your head. You mumbled incoherent sentences. Alcina loved seeing you like this for her but she needed you to respond. She was in charge.

In one swift and deep thrust she bottomed out in you. All the air was pushed out of your lungs as you felt the tip of her cock press deep within your spongy walls hitting your sweet spot so good, few more of thoses and you would be cumming and screaming her name. She pressed on the tummy bulge she had created in you and leaned down towards your face smirking like the devil himself.

" Answer me you slut, I got you this cock drunk?" She asked once more in a demanding sultry tone. You tried your best to answer her you really did but God the only thing you could think about was her cock. Alcinas dimitrescus cock buried deep within you. For sure if anyone came in and saw this scenery they would faint.

Your legs trembled as she straightened up her posture and started a few slow strokes within you. Watching as your face convert in pleasure as your mouth formed a small "o" shape as you fought to hold onto her shoulders for stability.

"You love when mommy fucks you like this don't you my love? Think that woman could get this deep in you? Mhm make you cum the way I make you do?" She asked and you forced yourself to squeak out a high pitched "no". She smirked, her eyebrows quriking up in disbelief.

" I don't believe you" she simply stated. Alcina removed your hands from her shoulder as she intertwined her fingers with your, holding your hand above your head. She moved her hips and a relentlessly pace pounding your cunt in ways you knew for sure that other woman can't.

" fuck! Alcina p-please mph!" You moaned as you removed your hand from her hold and tried to press against her mound she she wouldn't deep but she only removed your hand forcing it back above your head as she went even deeper, now she started rubbing tight fast circles around your puffy bud, groaning as the room now became filled with your screams of pleasure and her grunts.

You were seeing stars. Alcina was fucking you like a animal, so fucking good ( as always). Tears started to form in your eyes as you forced yourself to look up at her. She was focused on the sight of her cock going in and out of you and her mission with your clit.

You moaned her name softly as she spat on your clit and started rubbing it more harshly. You fought against her hold on your hip as your eyes rolled back once more. Alcina looked up at the sight before her, she was in awe. You were crying. Your makeup messed up, mascara running down along with the tears, your hair messed up. Fuck you were a beautiful sight to see. That made alcina even more feral.

" fucking God, are you crying draga? Mommy fucks you so good that you cry on her cock, wanna cum too huh?" You nodded uncontrollably as you felt yourself clench down on her cock.

" fucking cum for mommy " she whispered opening your shaking legs to the widest as she fucked you hard and fast, pounding ruthlessly into your g-spot every 2 seconds. With one final thrust you cumed on alcinas faux cock as she panted.

She chuckled at your worn out, gently removing her cock from your ruined cunt she kneeled down and admired what she created like your cunt was the most precious art piece in the entire world. She slowly cleaned you with her tongue looking up at you sympathetically as you let out soft whimpers. She cooed softly at you the vibrations sending a shock wave through you making you grab her hair and pull her away from you.

She softly kissed your clit before coming up and kissing you passionately, you could taste every bit of yourself on her tongue. She realesed you and helped you get dressed again. Noticing the tired expression on your face. She picked you up bridal style and carried you out of the bathroom and through the back door so no one would see.

She placed you in the car, putting your seat belt on she noticed that you were already asleep. She smiled softly, removing strands of hair from your face and quietly shutting the door moving to her side. The ride home to your shared mansion was quite. Alcina took you up stairs and ran you a bath, after she proceeded to cuddle with you in bed.

" I'm sorry if I accidentally hurt you today my love, you know i get a little jealous when it comes to what is mine" she spoke softly kissing your forehead. You smiled up at her and chuckled.

" you weren't sorry when you were fucking my brains out, but not gonnna lie i really enjoyed it" you said sarcastically, she playfully rolled her eyes and stared at you happily.

" God I love you" she mumbled before slowly starting to drift off to sleep.

" not as much as I do" you whispered, you both went back and forth about who loved who more until you both fell into deep slumber.

[lottiecrabie]

to dust and bones. part one – matty healy

they cross paths at a bar. he’s out for blood, and hers beat tantazingly beneath her flesh. (or the worst people you know are in the worst situationship in existence)

warnings: 18+, power games, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, choking, dom!matty, bratting, general toxicity, mentions of drug use, oc

part one of two

6521 words

Alana shoots back the bitter tequila, licking hot sauce off her sweaty hands. Her face scrunches in pain, head shaking. Her sinuses clear; her thoughts leak out of her head. There’s ear-splitting music ringing around her— some god awful EDM shit she’s drunk enough to dance to. 

Crowded bodies push against her. She sways to the beat, hips rolling to some seductive rhythm drumming in the deepest parts of her heart. Her skin-tight black dress rises up her legs, revealing inches of tantalizing skin. 

Alana feels rugged hands graze the outside of her thighs. She smirks to herself, leaning back against the hard wall of body behind her. Fingers climb up instinctively to her waist, spreading across her stomach, tugging her into him until they’re flushed together, indistinguishable from the other. 

Black curls tickle at her cheek. He’s familiar against her; the muscles and dips of him unfortunately memorized in a corner of her brain she hasn’t managed to blitz out even with all the coke. 

Matty Healy. Dark angel leaning over her, nosing her perfumed neck. 

“Buy a girl a drink first,” Alana whispers. Thankfully he’s close— too close to breathe properly, to make sense of her scattered thoughts— and he manages to hear over the DJ’s techno beats. 

“Why would I?” Matty bites back, breath blowing against her ear. Alana forces down a shiver. “I can have her without.” 

She whips to face him, a furious dash between her eyebrows. Rage climbs up her spine, taking over her head, and it’s only the second most familiar emotion she feels with Matty Healy. What an insufferable asshole, looking at her all smug when he sees the anger spreading through her veins. 

Cheeks red, head swimming with the alcohol and the drugs and the deafening music, Alana tries to come up with some scathing reply. She wants to leave him burning, skin red and raw where she lashed at him. Wants to dig her nails into him, tear his beating heart from two fragile ribs. 

“Fuck you,” is what she manages, of course, because the world is a blurry daze around her, and her brain is working slower than her tongue. 

Matty smiles saccharine sweet at her. It feels awfully condescending on the cutting traits of his face. “But you have, princess.” 

“You’re—” He cocks his head, encouraging her with gleeful eyes. Alana breathes through her nose. “—not worth my time. Go do your horny act somewhere else.” 

She flips on her heels, marching determinedly to the crowded bar. Matty is hot on her trails, of course, leaning into her to tease, “Horny act? I barely even touched you.” 

“The most you will.” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

Alana pushes her way through the swarming crowd, digging her elbows in unfortunate places to get an in. People turn to her with a snarling face, but most seem to back down at the sight of her. Perhaps they recognize her, with flushed cheeks and cleavage dipping low. Perhaps they recognize the man towering behind her, following her godly parting of the sea of bodies like the privileged kid he’s always been. 

She finally manages to get to the bar, hands slamming the counter victoriously. A pretty bartender bounces to her, upping her chin in question. “What can I get you?” 

Alana opens her mouth. Instead, Matty cuts in, “Dirty vodka martini for her and a gin tonic for me.” The bartender nods, getting to work. 

Alana’s head flips to him, daggering him with a murderous glare. “I can order for myself.” 

Matty scoffs. “You practically begged me to buy you a drink.” 

She stumbles over the words in sheer offense, shrill as she gasps, “Begged— Oh, you fucking asshole.” 

Two drinks slam over the counter. “Put it on my tab,” Matty says, kidnapping her martini and making his way out of the crowd. Alana follows him bitterly, already planning to rack up his bill now that he’s so stupidly offered it to her. She’ll buy rounds for the whole club just to ruin him. 

He leads them to the VIP lounge, nodding at the bouncer as he moves to let them in. What a douchey move, she thinks, climbing up the staggering stairs, holding the skirt of her rising dress. 

The lounge is drenched in red light. Black leather couches and satin cushions scatter the place. Gray cigar smoke lingers above their heads. Some softer RnB plays, and Alana’s ears find momentary relief. She bites her lip to contain a pleased moan. 

Two dancers, impossibly tall and svelte in white lingerie dresses, move against two poles on a small stage. They’re languid and confident, swaying to a temperature rising rhythm, effortlessly seductive. 

Matty sits in front of the dancers, legs spreading as he makes himself too comfortable. He rests the two drinks on a black table in front of him, looking up at the girls with a cheeky, provocative grin. 

Inexplicable fire twists up in her guts. Alana drops beside Matty, practically sticking to his side, one leg crossing over the other to faintly kick his shin, which he takes in chuckling stride.

Her arm reaches over him to grab her martini. She places it between her lips, glass knocking her teeth gracelessly. He considers her, eyes following the land of skin she's uncovered through her new pose. 

“Aren’t you gonna say thank you?” He teases as she finishes a new mouthful of her cocktail. 

Alana offers him a deadpan look. “No.” 

He rolls his eyes, grabbing his gin tonic, leaning an arm over the back of the couch. “Brat,” he shakes his head. 

The lightning is low, casting red shadows over his face, but she can still see his dark gaze, hungry for flesh and those pathetic whines she can never hold back when he’s knuckles deep inside of her, penetrating through her skin. She draws a finger around the rim of the glass. 

She hates it most when Matty gets that way, intense and greedy and so fucking clear. His stare is predatory, watching her every little move to pounce on. The game feels instantly more dangerous. Anxiety spikes; some fight or flight response she never chooses right. 

Matty downs half of his drink, conspicuous Adam’s apple bobbing. She watches it religiously, remembering the purple stains she scattered around it just a few days ago. 

“Don’t drink so fast. We just got here,” she says warningly. She knows why he’s speeding this up. 

Matty lowers his glass just enough to offer a burning stare, hotter than she can handle in this stuffy room. 

I’m gonna fuck you is written bright and clear in his eyes. 

He finishes his gin tonic in another long sip, licking the last drop from his red lips. Heat spreads through her abdomen, clenching it guiltily. She flexes her hands around the stem. 

Slamming the glass back on the table, Matty adventures two fingers over her naked leg. It tickles, raising the hair of her skin as she shivers openly. His palm swallows the meat of her thigh, the tempting skin she so freely offered him. His hand is cold, glacial against the fire licking up her limbs. 

“Drink up,” Matty whispers, a devilish smile catching his cheek. She shakes her head, words completely lost to her. 

“I’m not thirsty.” Alana’s heart smashes against her ribs. Uncontrollable thing, careless thing. It always throws her into the worst situations, leaving her sober head to clean up its mess.

“No?” Matty pouts, climbing his hand to the hem of her dress. “You look a little flushed.” 

“It’s the light.” She stares up at the red fluorescents to prove her point, like he couldn’t see the mood lighting reigning over the room. 

“I think you’re scared,” Matty says. He’s never been one to stretch his words, coat them in syrup to swallow easier. 

She racks her throat. “Why would I be scared?” Although she promised herself not to give him an inch more, Alana gulps some of her martini to shake off the nerves (not fear, just some pesky anxiety from the lingering drugs). Matty smiles at the action triumphantly. 

“Because you left me naked and tied up to my bed last time.” He leans into her, whispering playfully into her cheek. “Because you didn’t let me come, and now you’re afraid of what I’ll do to you.” 

More backless bravado than sense, she grins cheekily. “It was funny. It’s not my fault you can’t take a little joke.” 

Fingers dipping under her dress. Alana bites her lip, hiding the breathy moan that wishes to slip her lips. It’s useless; he sees right through. “Oh, I’ll make you laugh.” He bites at her jaw, not enough to sting, but enough to know he’s serious. She scrunches her nose, tilting her head into him. 

Matty leans away, grabbing the martini from her hand. He places it between her lips. Instinctively, Alana opens them, and he tips the glass into her mouth. “Good girl,” he teases as she drinks. Her eyes snap to his dangerously, some unmasked threat that she’d spit it in his face if it wouldn’t ruin some really good vodka. “So feisty,” Matty tsks, amused. 

He takes the glass away. She licks at the rim, catching some droplets as it falls down the cone. Matty swirls the leftover martini, staring down shamelessly at her wet lips. 

“I could fuck anyone here,” he whispers. Clarity strikes through the flames, shaking away some of that daze. She frowns at him, taking a self-conscious peek at the pair of girls still twirling around their pole. Of course, Matty catches her moment of weakness, grasping it greedily as she scowls. “Yes, especially them. Have them bent over the other for me, cunts opened for my cock. Couldn’t you just see them, screaming in my sheets, rutting against each other?” 

“You overestimate your skills,” Alana bites, though it’s mostly from anger at the unwelcomed images he’s forced inside her brain. “You couldn’t handle them.” 

He arches an eyebrow. “Like I can’t handle you?”

She purses your lips, face crisping. She wishes it was true. That he didn’t have enough hands and tongue and cock to work with all of her, with the mess of hair she throws back carelessly as she rides him, with the nails digging into his back mercilessly, with the hips he grasps between heavy hands as he bruises her skin. That the rage and the hatred and the head-twirling passion she throws at him wouldn’t be caught, wouldn’t be swallowed to spit back tenfold. That he wouldn’t know what to do with all of her. 

But he does. Goddamit, he does like no one else ever has. 

Alana refuses to dignify him with an answer. Still, Matty doesn’t need one, dipping the leftover martini in her mouth. His breath is hot against her ear, sticking on her sweaty skin. 

“I could fuck anyone here,” he repeats, probably to martel home some complex she’s not interested in diving into. “But I want you.” 

She’d bite back something cheeky and snobbish, something near of course you do or who doesn’t or some other grand words to deflect. Right now, she’s too busy obediently swallowing what he’s giving her, but she’s sure he reads them anyway in the burn of her stare. 

As if to plead the last of his case, he raises his cold hand to the final stretch, meeting the black lace of her panties. Alana moans, alcohol dripping down her chin from the startled jump, something else dripping where his fingers meet the apex of her thighs. 

“Let me fuck you,” Matty breathes, biting her jaw, this time to sting, to tear apart. 

Finished with her drink, he slams the glass beside his, turning back to her quickly, afraid to miss even the smallest of shivers. “Begging already?” Alana pants, out of breath. 

His free thumb wipes the alcohol off her chin, bringing it back to her lips, forcing them open. She sucks his finger into her mouth. He presses against her tongue, heavy and undeniable. Drool sticks to it as she releases it, red lipstick staining the knuckle. 

His other hand, much more occupied, teases a delicious rhythm over her wet panties. She leans further into the cushions, manually stopping herself from dropping her legs open for this whole lounge to see. 

“Don’t give me ideas,” Matty warns. “You know how I enjoy you begging. All those pretty sounds you make, whiney and pathetic.”

His spitful hand racks through the sweaty mess of her hair, tugging at the roots. Her head bends, throat barred. He grunts at the sight.

Matty can’t stop himself any longer. He crashes his lips to hers, licking into her open mouth. It’s a messy thing, more teeth and spit than anything romantic, hands still buried in her hair. He tugs it harshly, swallowing the pitiful moans she releases. 

Alana clings to his shoulders, afraid she’d drown in the satin if it wasn’t for his buoyant body slithering around her. She curses his jacket, bulletproof vest to the claw marks she’d litter on his skin. Black nail polish tainted red by the end of the night— but he’s safe for now. 

Matty bites her lower lip, dragging it from her. She shudders in his arms, head swooping ecstasy climbing up her thoughtless brain. It must be the martini downed too fast. (It’s him. It’s always him.)

His hand releases her hair, finding the slope of her neck instead, digging into the skin. His thumb presses meanly at her jaw. Alana wonders if it’ll bruise. 

He pushes her further into the sofa, practically swallowing her whole under his lanky limbs. She can’t make sense of the edges of him. He’s everywhere, invading her flesh, slipping under her very skin, to the beating parts of her she wishes to banish him from. Hot pleasure drips down her veins. 

Matty licks into her lazily. He tastes like gin, which he knows she hates. He does it on purpose, buying drinks she’d never put to her lips just to spit it in her mouth. Alana can’t stand the taste of it. She doesn’t know why she craves the taste of him, faintly smokey from some expensive cigarette. 

He thumbs at her clit vaguely, more as a smothered promise of what he could do than any real attempt at skill. Still, it’s enough to make dangerous fire course through her veins. She clenches around nothing, groaning. 

“Are you gonna fuck me in front of everyone?” Alana rasps, biting and mean like he’s not playing her like his favorite puppet. 

Matty hums indulgently. He presses his index into her clothed entrance, wet and sticky for him. “Do you want me to? Let them know how good you are for me even with all that talk? All those sounds you make just for me?” He nips at her jaw, climbing up to her ear. “We can give them a show.” 

Alana’s heart slams against her ribs, begging to be let out and fall to his booted feet. She breathes heavily, head falling as he continues some slow circle on her clit, never enough to wipe from her head the outrageous knowledge that it’s Matty Healy blowing the flames. 

“Bathroom,” Alana gasps, eyes scrunched close. 

Matty laughs lowly, shaking his head in the side of her neck. “Coward.” 

Still, he sits up, dragging her body with his. Her brain knocks against her skull as she comes back, taking a deep breath of air. Reality feels very far away from the tip of her fingers. She’s drowning in him, in the smell of his cologne and that awful taste of gin clinging to his lips. 

The walk to the bathroom feels like a dreamscape maze, more colorful mood lightning and stepping over leather shoes than any tangible thing. 

The room is dark and clinical. The floor is black marble, sleek and easy to step on, heels clicking as she adventures further into the bathroom. The light is low. Alana has to squint to make sense of Matty locking the door behind them. He turns back to her, lion stride as he loosens his tie. 

He’s gonna eat her alive. 

Matty crowds her space, pushing her against the sink’s countertop as he noses her cheek. Alana’s thighs hit the cold marble, shivering at the contrasting temperature. The tip of his fingers find her skin again, climbing up the goosebumps, driving under the hem. 

Alana’s own hands bury in the mess of hair at the nape of his neck. Black nails dig into the unruly locks, tugging vaguely. She breathes with him, the only surrounding melody in this musicless room. What a strange feeling to be so thoroughly abandoned by distractions. 

Tired of wasting time, Matty grabs her thighs, throwing her carelessly on the marble countertop. Her legs spread wide, welcoming him in the middle of her, black heels kicking beside his knees. Hands rise to her waist, trailing greedily over her skintight dress. “Fuck, you’re hot.” 

Alana grins. Compliments are always the worst moves, climbing up to her head and loosening whatever miraculous hold he had on it. She leans away against the gray tiles of the wall, cheeky and devilish, fingers slipping from his mane to the muscles of his shoulders. “Say that again.” 

Matty tries to dip for a kiss instead, but she dodges easily, turning her head into her shoulder. He groans at her childish antics, digging his nails into her ribs. “You’re fucking annoying.” 

“‘S not what I asked.” 

Matty buries his face in her offered neck, leaving wet kisses as he scales up her jaw, up her cheeks. Alana giggles, wrinkling her nose, shifting in her seat. “You’re beautiful,” Matty finally whispers in her ear, gently biting the lobe. She hums, nodding at him. Roughly, he warns, “And if you keep playing these games, I’ll leave your ass so red you won’t be able to sit for days.” 

The threat should make a spike of anxiety hit her. Instead, languid fire pools at her stomach. She moans, closing her eyes, pushing her hips further into his. The angle is a little awkward, just slightly too high to really get anything working. She manages to roll her pleading hips on his belt buckle. 

“Greedy thing,” Matty tsks. “So fucking impatient.” 

“It’s not my fault you’re all talk.” 

Matty scoffs. “You’ve got a death wish.”

Alana flutters her eyelashes at him, pouting. “I thought you could handle me.” 

He groans, hands burrowing back into her skirt. Calloused fingers grab at her hips, digging into the black lace of her panties. He drags it out slowly, smirking down at her as Alana scoops herself up to help him. A brief ceasefire, just because he knows all the parts of her to press into. 

She giggles in his open mouth, finding him again, embarrassingly giddy. Thrill beats in her veins, cunt throbbing for him, for the good part of this relentless chess match. He kisses her indulgently, shitty grin undeniable against her lips. Alana doesn’t even have it in her to care. 

In the corner of her eyes, she sees Matty shove the lacy thing in his pocket. She releases his lips like he’s burned her, scowling petulantly. “You have to give those back. I’m running out of underwear.” Every time they fall back into this poisonous push and pull, Alana loses a pair of her favorite lingerie, forgotten in the endless pockets and sheets of Matty Healy. She’d consider going commando just to spite him if he wouldn’t like it so much, love knowing he’s gotten under her skin, made her change some known habit. 

Of course, Matty shakes his head with a teasing grin. “No.” 

“At least buy me new ones.”

He cocks his head, considering her. “Are you gonna try them on for me?”

Alana rolls her eyes, just a little bit turned on at the idea of it. “You’re such a boy.” 

Cockily, he racks her to the edge of the countertop, finally pressing her against his hard cock. Alana gasps at the sinful feel, eyes rolling back for completely different reasons. He grinds into her, the rough material of his trousers rolling against the most sensitive part of her. A traitorous whine leaves her lips; she bites it shut just a little too late. 

Matty whispers smugly, “I’m a man.”

What a fucking douchebag. Alana can’t handle this back and forth he coaxes out of her, always swaying between burning anger and choking desire like the world’s most on-beat metronome. 

She gracefully lets him have this one. Doesn’t even come up with a jab or a glare in bitter answer. Of course, that might be because he’s sailing up her thighs, thumb pressing into her clit as jaw-dropping relief climbs up her spine. Her head falls against the backsplash, lips parted, rolling her hips against his fingers as he circles lazily at her. 

He’s fucking perfect. She wants to cut his fingers clean off, curse them for ever making her feel this way. Peeking her eyes open, Alana swears he knows this, gathering a pool of her arousal to smear it over her bundle of nerves. She gasps in the quiet air, uselessly kicking her feet. 

“You’re so wet for me,” Matty says in wonder, eyes locked to the way she grinds for him, dripping on the black marble. 

“First time making a girl wet?” Alana tries to brat, but it comes out weak between two moans. 

He smirks condescendingly at her, tracing her swollen lips with the tip of his free hand, coating her chin with tacky lipgloss. “We both know the answer to that.” 

Without warning, he thrusts two fingers into her. It’s embarrassing how quickly her cunt welcomes him home, insides rearranging to make room for him dutifully. Her face scrunches, crying against his jaw. 

“Fuck, Matty.” 

“Yeah?” He arches an eyebrow, curling his hand to draw a feverish wave of ecstasy out of her. 

She grips his shoulders, pushing the jacket off of them, trying to sink her claws into anything. He’s relentless between her legs, thrusting and circling and working magic. Pressure builds inside her abdomen. She's mewling in his neck, panting in his ear. 

Matty stares down at her in hunger. He’s got her right where he wants her, Alana knows this. But why does he keep watching her like he’s about to rip into her throat? Smug and dangerous and voracious? 

An inexplicable strike of nerves hit her. His fingers dip into her faster, swiping at her clit. The cold sink and his warm body and the feel of his rough fingers inside of her are too much. Pathetic moans spill from her lips, overflowing out of her. She wrinkles her face closed, then forces it open again. Just to keep an eye on him, on his flexed arm as he wrecks her from the inside. Bliss threatens the edges of her. She tastes it on her tongue 

Alana cries, “Are you gonna make me come?” It’s pathetic to ask. She’d demand it in normal circumstances, holding onto his arm, a ruinous hand over his own guiding him into her sopping cunt. 

But— She left him hard and sticky last time, screaming after her as she touched up her lipstick. And now he’s looking down at her like he’s got her exactly where he wants, brain melting out of her ears, begging for him.

He leans into her with a trickster smile, licking his teeth. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Never.”

He pumps harder inside of her, adding a third finger. The world blurs around Alana. She screams, digging her nails under his white shirt. Right—

Matty thrusts out of her as quickly as he entered. A guttural cry rips from her throat, head banging on the wall from the stolen orgasm. Soaked fingers fall limply on her thigh, drying the slick on her skin. He grins, smacking her cheek with a sweet kiss. 

“You fucking asshole,” Alana bites, out of breath, fury swirling around her dazed head. 

“What?” He finds her lips next, catching them with a biting kiss. “Were you close?” 

“I’ll kill you.” 

“I’d like to watch you try.” 

Matty pushes the cups of her dress down, revealing her tits, flushed and peaked for him. He twirls two fingers around her nipple, greedily watching as another wave of pleasure hits her, as the uncontrollable rage smothers for ecstasy. 

Alana is half-pissed to lose that sharp sense of anger, something to strike through the blur of him, to hold onto. Pissed that he can melt away all her hatred, make her putty in his expert hands. 

He dives for her breasts, biting and licking and sucking on them like a starved man. Muted pain stretches over her chest. Alana racks a hand through his sweaty curls, gasping. 

“Are you gonna ask nicely?” Matty whispers, starting that torturously cycle on her clit again. “I like when you ask all sweet and desperate.” Alana shakes her head, sloppily kissing at his jaw as he teases a finger over her entrance again. “Come on,” he chuckles lowly. “Beg for it.” 

“Screw you,” Alana bites, legs spreading wider for him in complete contradiction. 

“Yeah, I bet you want me to.” 

Matty dips a finger inside of her, pumping slowly, unbothered by her rushing him. Her hands are everywhere on him— the mane of his black hair, the cut of his jaw, the buttons of his shirt, undone by her sloppy hands, the muscle of his working arm, the belt at his hips. Pressing and clawing and tugging at him, pleading with a silent hand to work faster. 

He’s uninterested in listening, especially when her mouth still refuses to grant him the sweet nothings she always moans for him. His pace is steady and consistent, entirely not enough. She smacks the counter uselessly. 

“You’re the worst,” Alana whines, head flopping around her neck. Tension builds meticulously slow inside of her. She throbs around his finger, wishing for more, but he continues to deny her.  

“I just want you to be good for me,” Matty breathes, holding her head up with a heavy hand. 

“Just fuck me, Matty.” 

Trying to speed it along, Alana pounces on his belt buckle, frantically trying to undo it with trembling fingers. It’s a messy affair; he pries them away easily. His jaw clenches, clearly unhappy with her. He exhales through his nose. The air grows electric. Alana’s pussy shamefully clenches around him.

Matty is a fucking sight. She desperately wishes it wasn’t true, that he wasn’t perfectly sculpted to fit around her stained palms. A fallen angel crashed to Earth just to lick the vodka and red off her lips. 

“Can’t you ever listen?” His hand moves again, slithering around the front of her throat. He presses meanly at the sides, blood rushing away from her head. Alana’s lips part, but only quiet spills from them. “That’s all that ever shuts you up, isn’t it?” 

Alana laughs gleefully at his anger, managing a choked, “Not even,” just to spite him. He digs into her arteries, surely leaving a constellation of bruises for her to cover up. 

“Fine, princess,” Matty grunts. “We’ll do it your way.” 

In a second, he’s got three fingers back inside of her, fast and hard, curling just right. It’s miraculous how he manages to be everywhere inside and outside of her, how he drowns her in the feel of him. 

Her head disconnects from her neck. She gasps for air, purring in their shared breaths. Euphoria coils around her belly, hot and sticky and so, so close. Sweet oblivion. She barely remembers their names, barely remembers what—

“Fucking hell, Matty,” Alana screams, slapping his shoulder with no force, missing his gone fingers. “Just— Just let me come.” 

“Brats don’t deserve orgasms. I thought you learned your lesson.” 

Matty takes a clinical step away from her. Breathing harshly, she tries to reattach herself to the firm reality that exists around her and not this dreamed-up land the cliff of a shattering climax brings her to. 

He’s so proper, still dressed while her dress bunches useless around her waist. So put together as she drools and drips and pants for him, unhinged and unmade. How fucking embarrassing. 

She’d lash at him in retaliation, bring him down to her dirty level, make him feel crass inside. She has the urge to on the tip of her tongue, feels the burn all the way to her throat. 

But what would Matty give her in return? Not what she wants. Not what she craves. 

God, Alana hates when she has to fucking listen. 

“Matty,” she sings, finding the lapels of his shirt and tugging him back into her. She flutters her eyelashes innocently at him, licking her lips. “I’m sorry.” He snorts at her. It’s another bruise to heal tomorrow. “Please, I mean it. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She grabs his cheek with one hand, kissing the other one religiously. “Fuck me. Please, please, Matty, fuck me. I need you.” 

With her free hand, she coaxes him back between her legs, spreading his long fingers over her sopping hole. “It’s all for you. It’s always just for you.” She licks his jaw, biting his earlobe. “You’re the only one who can make me feel this way.” 

Alana presses his fingers into her entrance. They enter her together, a delicious stretch that has her sighing in relief. It’s crowded and nasty and, oh, my fucking god, she’s fingering herself with fucking Matty Healy. 

He seems to be thinking the same whirlwind of thoughts, locked gaze on the spectacle of them between her thighs, working together for perhaps the first time ever. 

Alana puppeteers him, pumping their joined fingers together. She’s quick to drive herself to the edge, already so restless and aware and turned on, constantly teetering the cliff he refuses to give her. She knows her best spots anyway, knows how to get herself off quick and easy. 

“Are you gonna come for me?” Matty asks, still reveling in the sight of them. Alana nods eagerly. “Are you sure?” 

He rips their fingers out of her again. Alana smothers a sob, pain tingling the tips of her. She wants it so badly. 

Matty sucks her wet fingers clean, twirling his tongue around her metal ring. “Come on, Alana. Don’t you trust me?” She shakes her head childishly.

She thinks she might go insane. How fitting, completely going off her rockers because of Matty fucking Healy. Her entire body is in a frenzy, feverish and electrified, buzzing with stolen orgasms. He could blow on a bitten nipple and she’s half convinced she’d come on the spot. 

But he’s not going to, is he? Alana pouts pitifully to herself, cursing the chess games she plays and then has to suffer from. She knows she put herself in this situation, pushed him too far and now has to watch as he whips back tenfold like a tense elastic. 

All she can do is follow along, pleading and praying and begging for a release he’s just not giving her. 

“Oh, baby, it’s okay,” Matty coos. 

“Please. Please, I can’t—” Alana shakes her head. “I’m so close. Please, let me come.” 

He racks two hands through the tangled mess of her hair. “You’re so pretty when you beg. If only they could hear you. If only they knew how fucking pathetic you are for me.” 

Alana cries, nodding just to please him, “I am. I am.” She throbs around nothing. “Fuck me, please.” 

Matty pouts at her. “See, it’s not so hard.” 

He pushes her from her perch on the countertop, catching her as her legs tremble beneath her weight. He leaves her no time to adjust to gravity again, turning her hips around and bending her over the sink. 

She gasps at the cold feel of the marble on her tits. His hand presses strongly between her shoulder blades. Alana manages to throw a look back his way, mesmerized by the way he undoes his buckle with one hand, by the strings of curls falling over his forehead, by his swollen, red lips parting as he pants. 

By his cock as he pushes his trousers just down enough to reveal it, hard and leaking, swerving just right. 

Alana bites her lip, eyes rolling at the sheer idea of it. 

“‘Gonna fucking ruin you,” he mutters more to himself than her. 

Of course, she can’t stop herself from breathing back, “Haven’t managed to yet.” 

He tsks, spanking her naked ass. It rings deliciously down her leg. “Can’t ever stop bratting.” She giggles giddily, shaking her head. 

Matty grabs himself by the base, guiding himself between her thighs. His tip rubs at her dripping entrance, still teasing her when she’s near ready to explode from the lack of him. 

“Matty…” Alana warns. 

He chuckles. “God, you’re impatient.” He thrusts into her, bottoming out. 

A scream rips out of her throat. Alana slams her hand against the counter. How fucking right he fits, curving just perfectly inside of her. She bites her tongue, bliss loosening all her tense muscles. 

No matter how fucking shit this thing with him is, this, him inside of her, will always be holy. 

Matty grabs her hips, fingers digging into her flesh, and pounds into her. He has a wild, brutal rhythm going on, sliding in and out of her before she can register any of them, until all she knows is to moan, pleases and so goods and mores falling off her lips before she can think them. 

His skin slaps against her, the rough leather of his belt hitting her ass with each stroke. Mostly, he’s silent for once, too. Pretty, mean words robbed from his throat as he grunts and whines openly. How victorious it makes Alana feel, drowning in the sounds of him like he’s not invading every inch of her. Like she’s won. 

Her tongue burns. Ecstasy weeps down her spine. She clenches around him, again and again. “Matty—” She warns, out of breath. She’s learned her lesson. “Matty, I’m—” 

“I know, baby.” He whispers hotly, driving into her faster. “What a good girl. Are you gonna say please?” 

“Please,” she yells, face scrunching, cunt throbbing as she—

Her walls close around nothing. Alana chokes at the lack of him, too sudden and too quick for her to register until it’s too late. Matty robbed her of an astronomical orgasm again. 

She lays there pitiful, pillaged of all fight. Her cheeks feel wet and scratchy and— oh, God, she’s actually crying. 

“Oh, baby,” Matty coos, taking her arms and dragging her into the warmth of his body. Her head rolls on his shoulder, letting him play her like his favorite ragdoll. He wipes at her tears. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” 

“It’s too much.” 

“You can handle it.” He grabs a handful of her tits, using his other hand to guide her vision to the bathroom mirror. “Look at you,” he whispers. “Look how fucking beautiful you look.” 

Alana’s hair is a nest, pretty layers tangled around her face. Her face is flushed; eyeliner dripping down her eyes, lipstick smearing her chin, cheeks red from leftover blush and those pathetic tears. Her chest is blotched scarlet, freckles of growing bruises littering her skin. She’s a mess. 

Yet, Matty looks at her with devotion. I’m beautiful. I’m beautiful. 

He works slowly into her. His hips grind against her ass, deliciously reverbing in her cunt. Just this is enough to send burning ecstasy down her limbs. It’s this heady mix of pure pleasure and the striking fear that he won’t let her have it that reigns over her head.

Matty makes heavy eye contact in the reflection of the mirror. Pupils dark and penetrating, watching her every hitched breath with fascination. He wants her so much, it chokes her. 

His strokes grow faster. Alana whimpers, gripping his arm, terrified of the orgasm building inside of her. She’s run out of words to beg with. All there’s left is pleading eyes, still wet with tears. 

Matty sees the message loud and clear. “Shhh,” he whispers. “Trust me. You have to trust me.” 

Alana shakes her head. Trusting him is an impossible task, bigger and grander than he’s ever demanded of her. She can’t. She can’t let herself. 

He snaps inside of her, cruel and relentless, building her back to that epic cliff. He noses the side of her neck, moaning over and over, “Just trust me. Come on, baby. You have to trust me.” He licks her cheek, shushing in her ear. "Just trust me. Just trust me."

She thinks it’s the meanest he’s ever been with her. Demanding her to trust him at her most vulnerable when it’s him— and it’s her— and she can’t— and she has to. 

He's irredeemably cruel. Doesn't he know that he's asking the world of her? How can he ask her to just trust him?

Still, that incessant burning edge. Pression building in her stomach. He presses over her belly, cooing, “Pretty girl.”

She wants it so bad. She wants him so bad. He'll give it to her. She just has to believe that he'll—

Her face scrunch and—

Wiping waves of oblivion. Her head falls into his shoulder, jaw growing slack. Hot, white pleasure strikes the deepest parts of her. Her fingertips buzz, oxygen just a little sweeter, just a little lighter. 

Her brain loses all coherent thoughts. She’s a mess of burning fire, licking up her limbs, screaming uselessly Matty, Matty, Matty. It’s all her heart can chant, crashing down a cliff. She smashes to the ground, gracelessly and furiously. Doesn’t stick any kind of landing; just pure, unfiltered ecstasy. 

This is why Alana falls into him all the time. Why she keeps this ridiculous tango, choking and poisonous. For the momentary relief of not existing, of just being a body in his skillful hands. She purrs, relieved of any burden, relieved of him, even.

Matty follows quickly after her, spilling inside of her with the sweetest moans she’s ever heard. She laughs happily, gravity still very far from her. 

He lingers inside of her, dropping his head on her shoulder, breathing heavily against her naked skin. 

“Fuck, Alana.” 

“Fuck, Matty.” He chuckles, rubbing his forehead lazily against her. Alana peeks one eye open, nervously watching the ruins of them after their catastrophic pass through each other. “We’re a mess,” she laughs.

It’s always strangely like this when they’re done. Light and breezy. Easy. 

Matty smirks, kissing her shoulder. “Mostly you.” 

She slaps him, laughing an offended gasp. “Shut up!” 

He thrusts out of her. Cum leaks down her thighs, which only makes her vaguely blush. Matty tucks himself back in his trousers, buckling his belt. He works at his half-unbuttoned shirt next, then his forgotten jacket kicked at their feet. Alana watches him solemnly. 

When he’s done with himself, he turns her back to him. With gentle fingers, rough at the tips but oh so careful with her, he lowers the skirt of her dress, raising the cups over her bare breasts again. It’s weird to have him like this. Sort of sweet. 

He kisses her nose, then smiles ruefully. “See ya.” 

Alana frowns as he steps away from her. “What? That’s it?” 

He looks back at her, tightening his tie. He arches a bored eyebrow. “What? Did you want to suck my dick clean?” 

Alana’s lips part in affront. Fucking Matty Healy. Asking her to trust him just to slap her in the face. She can't believe she considered him any kind of sweet. Considered them anything but an unwatchable forest fire spreading in front of their very eyes.

“Only to bite it off,” she spits, fists clenching in anger. 

He smirks. “Kinky.” He opens the door, stepping through. It slams behind him. 

It’s dark and cold in the bathroom. Alana crosses her arms, craving a drink and a cigarette. God, she’s a fucking mess.

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 22 - Prompt: Rough @wolfstarmicrofic

January Daily Series - 907 words

<<<Previous Post OR Start Here

Remus smirked at last night’s texting conversation with Sirius, which was temporarily interrupted by Regulus and James.

Padfoot’s Dad🐶: I disagree. The Greeks may be visionaries, but the Romans were revolutionaries.

Remus: Just because they built fancy streets and aqueducts?

Padfoot’s Dad🐶: Their infrastructure lasted centuries!

Remus: So? They plagiarised their entire religion and stole both of those concepts from other cultures.

Padfoot’s Dad🐶: They improved them!

Remus: That’s hardly objective evidence.

Padfoot’s Dad🐶: It doesn’t aldnbnsmzm.,,

Remus: Are you okay?

Padfoot’s Dad🐶: omg u r talking ancient civ shite

Remus: ?

Padfoot’s Dad🐶: This is pathetic. Both of you are twats.

Padfoot’s Dad🐶: be nice reg

Padfoot’s Dad🐶: ✨No.✨

Remus: Both of you stfu and give Sirius back his phone.

Padfoot’s Dad🐶: This is an intervention. Grow a pair and shag already.

Remus: Like you & James? Go on, let’s hear all about it.

Padfoot’s Dad🐶: Piss off.

Remus: Slag. What did you do to Sirius?

Padfoot’s Dad🐶: James is sitting on him. He says that he’s very wiggly.

Remus: Tell Sirius to call me when he’s free.

He hadn’t heard from Sirius since, which he assumed meant that they confiscated his phone during their rather rough “intervention.” It amused him to see Regulus was still a menace even after James won him over. Sirius’s silence was less so.

After a quick check of social media revealed that the Black brothers were at a familiar pub, Remus hauled himself off of his sofa and showered. He’d call Lily on the way. She was usually up for a night out. If nothing else, he would get to watch Sirius dance again. That was worth the effort.

When he followed Lily into the pub, the bass pounding through the speakers slapped him upside the head. It was loud. Lily clapped excitedly, then dragged him toward the bar.

“Love this song!” she shouted over the din.

Remus recognised it as one by Billie Eilish and shook his head. Lily enjoyed any pop song that she could dance to, but sassy lyrics sucked her right in. He was just glad that she didn’t demand he dance with her. No one wanted that level of awkward on the dance floor.

After he’d bought the first round, Lily disappeared into the crowd with the promise to check in every hour. It was their standard protocol. Remus had a tendency to wander off and forget that she drove him here, after a few rounds.

“Remus!” Mary called, waving as she made her way through the crowd.

He grinned and waved back. Mary was a uni friend that never went back home. She and Lily clicked right away and had been nearly inseparable ever since. By the time she reached him, he’d already ordered her a dirty martini.

“Thank you, love! If you’re here, Lils must be around?”

“Yeah, she just headed that way,” he said, pointing her toward the DJ. “Are you here on your own?”

Mary shook her head, her glossy halo of dark curls bouncing freely. “No, Alice and Tillie are with me. Over there.”

He followed her hand to the row of booths along the wall and was delighted to find Sirius, James, and Regulus chatting with the girls. That was too convenient to dismiss. Remus followed Mary to the booth and listened closely as she explained their plan for the evening.

“After here, we’re heading downtown to the Grim, then to Frank's Place to sober up.”

“Good plan.”

Mary bounded ahead of him and sidled up to Alice, then plopped in her lap. When Remus reached the table, James waved enthusiastically, then scooped Regulus up one-handed and slid over to free up a seat. Regulus didn’t even break eye contact with his brother as he settled onto James’s thighs. Sirius was chatting animatedly when he slid in next to James, but then stopped mid-sentence and stared.

“Remus?” he said, blinking rapidly. “What are you doing here?”

“Lily and I come by regularly.” Remus turned and pointed out the redhead, who had joined a group of girls in a dance circle. “We usually meet up with Mary at some point.”

Mary nodded. “Lils drags him out of his flat at least once a week.”

“But last week, she came alone.”

“No, she didn’t. I was here,” Remus said, shaking his head. He pointed to a booth on the other side of the club.

Sirius groaned and rubbed his hand over his face. “You have to be fucking kidding me.”

“Caught the Sirius and Lily show, did you?” James teased, leaning in to bump Remus’s shoulder. “It was certainly something, wasn’t it?”

Remus hid his smirk behind his drink. It was something alright. She and Sirius were both pissed and grinding on each other pretty intensely, which was hot enough on its own, but then Mary joined them. He’d stayed hidden in a back booth to hide his tenting trousers.

“You said I wasn’t that bad!” Sirius accused, jabbing James’s shoulder.

Regulus swatted his brother away with a threatening look when James winced. “That’s his sore arm, you prick!”

“It wasn’t bad. Just a little…”

“A little nothing, James!” Mary chimed in, shimmying her shoulders. “It was very sexy!”

Sirius was clearly mortified, though Remus couldn’t understand why. He spent the entire evening wishing he had an ounce of Sirius’s rhythm and even a smidge of Lily’s courage.

What I wouldn’t give to be in her shoes that night.

Next Part>>>

[popcorn-plots]

midnight snack

Stephen sipped at his cocktail, watching the scene before him. It wasn’t much, just a few people crowded in the top deck, swaying to the last song of the night. The inky black water was silent a few stories beneath them, cold wind rustling Stephen’s hair. There were one or two other people at the cafeteria with him, one obviously tipsy and the other nearly asleep on their feet. Sometimes, Stephen liked to speculate on their stories – who they were, what got them to this point. Right now, he was too tired.

It was either listening to the too-loud music with a martini in hand, sitting alone in the cold night air, or going back to his room where nightmares lurked at every corner. Despite the exhaustion, Stephen preferred the martini.

The music stopped and the DJ shouted something unintelligible over the speakers. The tired man near him wobbled down the stairs, drunk girl in tow. Someone cursed. Stephen finished his drink and set it down.

He thought about ordering another one, but the cafeteria was bound to be closing soon – it was 2 AM – and he didn’t feel like getting drunk. Drunk meant the nightmares couldn’t wake him up. He felt a little bad for leaving Christine alone in the room, but she had always been a deep sleeper.

There were footsteps on the stairs and a voice. “Hey, Stranger”

Stephen looked up. Tony Stark was standing above him. “Stark.”

“What are you doing up?” Stark asked.

“What are you doing up?” Stephen responded. Stark laughed and Stephen couldn’t help but grin. He had hated the man for most of his career, and for the first few days of the cruise, but he couldn’t help but admit that there had been some sort of chemistry between them (after his initial disbelief that Tony Stark, of all people, was on his cruise ship). Christine and Pepper hit it off immediately and after a few drinks and meals together, Tony and Stephen had settled on light banter instead of huge arguments. For their Scary Female Friends, they decided.

“Nightmares.” Stark finally admitted. “Mind if I sit?”

“No, not at all. Sit away.” Stark chuckled and sat down. There was a long silence that wasn’t exactly uncomfortable. “Nightmares for me, too. Even in paradise, they still haunt me.” For a moment, Stephen wished he had another martini. In a moment of inspiration, he asked Stark if he wanted one.

“No thanks. Three years sober tomorrow.” Stark explained. Stephen hummed.

Another silence fell between them and Stephen looked down at his hands. He shivered slightly, the chill having finally penetrated his nightshirt. Stark sighed. “I… there’s a lot of evidence that prove that sleeping with someone–”

“If you’re asking if you can fuck me, Stark, the answer is yes. You’re handsome, and while part of me still hates you, another part of me enjoys your company and… I’m intrigued.”

Stark laughed and held up a finger. “Firstly, call me Tony.”

“Then call me Stephen.”

“Secondly, I’d have to buy you dinner before. Sex is a third-date kind of thing. I’m a gentleman, not a monster.”  Stephen raised an eyebrow, fighting to keep the blush away from his face at the fact that Star– Tony didn’t exactly deny his sex accusation. 

“Thirdly, I was saying that studies have shown that sleep quality improves when you literally sleep with a partner. I was going to say that while we haven’t been friends for that long, we've established that we both have nightmares and maybe we could give that a shot and see what happens.”

Stephen took a second to think. “Then you'd better ask me out first, douchebag.”

Tony laughed. It was louder this time, more free and a lot more contagious. Stephen began to chuckle as well, until they were both nearly howling with laughter. Tony had to wipe tears from his eyes before he could respond. 

“Fine." Tony slid onto one knee in front of Stephen's chair, cupping his hands in the air as if he was proposing. “Stephen Strange, will you go out with me and find some weird cruise ship sandwiches so I can literally take you to bed?”

Stephen pretending to fan his face, grinning. “I would be honored.”

Tony grinned, stood up, and held out his arm to help Stephen up. Arm in arm, they made their way to the food bar.

The next morning, Stephen woke up secured in Tony’s arms, never wanting to leave. He hadn’t had a single nightmare, and he started the day refreshed and relaxed for the first time since high school. Tony admitted that he felt the same way and they found breakfast together -- without their Scary Female Friends this time.

Then they got lunch, then dinner, and exchanged numbers. Stephen finally got the fucking he had talked about a week later and thoroughly enjoyed it.

Ten years later, Tony proposed on that same cruise ship, at 2 AM, and with a cucumber sandwich (he proposed again in Italy, on the Rialto Bridge, with an actual ring). Stephen never slept alone again.

Ao3

[onthewaytosomewhere]

hi mel!! espresso martini and firstprince pls 💜

Leeks luv, this was so fun to right and not at all what i thought i'd write when i first saw ur prompt come through

but i took advantage of @stellarmeadow making this same request to write something a bit longer and hope ya both like it!!

Henry is short a bartender tonight, so he’s behind the bar himself. His years spent with Pez as a friend have made it so he can make most drinks, and they have a recipe book on the back of the bar for whatever he doesn’t know. Of course, Alex, his newest hire, seems to be more than competent at making the drinks Henry doesn’t know. He keeps a steady stream of chatter and flirtation with everyone around, and Henry almost drops the whiskey bottle in his hand when that flirtation is turned on him. He knows that, as the bar owner, he should not be in any way lusting over his employees, but there is something about Alex that he can’t get past.

He goes to take the next order, and the women attempt to flirt with him, and that really is the most awkward part of being behind the bar for him. They order, “Four espresso martinis, please, and maybe make one for yourself and join us?”

Henry is turning to the back bar for the book. He assumes he knows how to make this, but he’s going to make sure there isn’t something he needs to add that he doesn’t know. He has the shaker glass in hand, and when Alex is there taking it out of his hand, he says, “I got this. Watch and learn the ways of the espresso martini.” Henry is watching, and so are the women; hell, everyone anywhere near the bar is. Alex is so competent he has everyone watching him.

Henry has noticed that Alex is there whenever someone has attempted to flirt with him tonight, helping get them on their way faster. If he didn’t know better, he'd almost think Alex is one of those guys who thinks he’s the only one everyone should be flirting with. He knows that’s not the case; he’s seen him work with all of his other bartenders, and well, it’s the way this job goes; they all get flirted with, and Alex has never stepped in to interrupt that before. Of course, Henry would prefer they don’t flirt with him, so he’s got no problem letting Alex take that part of the job, but it’s just weird.

Alex finishes the espresso martinis, pours the small amount left into a fifth glass, and hands it to Henry, “What do you think?”

Henry takes a sip as Alex is processing the payment for the women. He’s impressed; he’d much rather have tea any day, but this espresso martini is better than any he’s ever had. “This is amazing; what do you do differently? There’s something there I can’t quite place.”

Ales chuckles and turns to look at him. With a wink, he says, “Secret ingredient, but I  guess I can tell you, Alex takes the jar of cinnamon that Henry didn’t even know they had and shakes it as he places it on the back bar, “A little cinnamon, just a touch makes everything in that drink pop.”

“Huh,” Henry licks the drop of the drink lingering there on his lips and sees Alex’s eyes follow it; maybe he’s not alone in his feelings, not that he would act on them, but having a bit of a crush is fun. “It’s wonderful.” Henry turns to help the next customer, placing the glass by the sink to be washed so he doesn’t lose himself in staring into Alex’s eyes. It may be fun to have a crush, but he will never act on it. If he stays there looking at Alex this close to him, he may be tempted to lean over the space between them and kiss him, and well, that cannot happen.

The night passes quickly, the perfect blend of busy but not overwhelming, and before he knows it, the last call has been called and dealt with, and the house lights are turned up while the DJ plays some song to usher everyone out the door. It’s just him and Alex cleaning the bar up. The couple waitresses they had tonight cleaned up the tables and righted all the chairs, calling good night as they walked out the door, ensuring it stayed locked behind them. He turns to put some dried glasses on the back bar, and Alex is standing there in front of him, raised eyebrow, hands on his hips, in a way that draws Henry’s eye to that impossibly trim waist. For a moment, he contemplates sucking in his gut, but it doesn’t matter; Alex knows him, and well, it’s not like he needs to attempt to impress him anyway; he can’t start something with an employee.

“So,” Alex starts, “Henry, I need to know if I should quit this job or just get over this crazy-ass crush I have on you.”

Henry’s mind stutters, and he gets out, “I’m sorry, what?!”

“I like you, Henry; I have an incredibly ridiculous crush on you, have since the day you interviewed me. I told myself it would go away, but it’s just becoming more. I may be falling for you, and I need to know if there is a chance you may reciprocate. I know you won’t start something with an employee, so I need to know if it’s finally time to take the job offer I have at the law firm down the street or if I just need to get over this and can keep working here.”

“Um …” Henry is a bit flabbergasted, but when Alex reaches over, takes the glasses from his hands, and places them on the back bar, moving closer, he tries to find the words, but all he can do is nod.

“I quit, Henry; sorry to leave you in the lurch, but see, I have to kiss you now.” Alex closes the gap between them, going just slightly up on his tiptoes, and kisses Henry. It starts slow and chaste, but soon, Henry’s hand is in Alex’s curls, and Alex’s is resting at the dip of his waist, and they are kissing as if it is all that is sustaining them. Henry knows he can’t let this go any further tonight, but at this moment, Alex’s kisses are all he needs, so he reaches over and hits the light switch, plunging them into near darkness and making them invisible to anyone passing by. He wants to keep this moment with Alex for himself.

[martiniluvr]

rip jason todd you would’ve LOVED this song

[georgiapeach30513]

Underneath the City Lights, Part 3

Summary:  It’s time for Ari to move

Pairings:  Ari Levinson X Reader

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, attempted non/con, physical abuse against reader, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  6.1K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics​

“And if you gentleman head this way,” Calvin leads a new group of investors to the club down the hallway, and towards the dressing rooms.  “If we’re lucky we may hear our Candy Jane practicing.  She should have a grand performance for you tonight.  Completely…nude.”

Calvin fights himself to not be disgusted at the thought of you being nude, but you were being put up for auction tonight, even if you didn’t know it.  Ari wanted to act like he had some grand claim on you, but Calvin would make it near impossible for Ari to pay if he had to.  He was getting tired of the two of your games.  There was something more going on, and he was going to put an end to it.

“What was that?” The businessman stops when a woman screams out, followed by the sound of broken glass.  “What sort of business are you running here, Newton?”

“The one where the clients get everything they want.  No matter what.  Some people like things a bit rough.  They enjoy their brats from time to time,” he awkwardly laughs, hearing another scream, this time from you.  “Anyways, I think it’s time to get you men in your seats.  Charles, make sure these gentlemen have the best seats in the house.”

Taking a deep breath, he waits for Charles to lead them down the hall before he heads towards your dressing room.  Slinging the door open right as August backhands you across the face.  Rita lays on the floor out cold, “What the fuck?”

“Calvin!  Calvin, please I didn’t do anything!” Talking back receives a grab to your arm.  His fingers dig into you as he jerks you to his body.  “Calvin!”

“Shut the fuck up you fucking cunt!  Your brother told me you were my problem to deal with,” your stupid brother backs himself out of your dressing room, leaving you to feel with August’s wrath.  “Like I said.  You want to be a fucking whore, I’ll treat you like one.”

When you scream no at him, he pushes you into the wall.  Starting to stalk towards you, while you cower in the corner; pissed and scared at the predicament that you’re in.  This isn’t at all what you signed up for.  This isn’t what your father or mother would have wanted, and your brother didn’t even care.  He was a coward.

“You,” Calvin snaps at a woman that was walking down the hall, flinching when she hears you cry out for help.  “Let the DJ know that Candy Jane won’t be performing tonight.”

“Sir?” Gasping when she hears you cry out in pain.

“She’s getting what is coming to her.  And if you were smart, you’d forget you heard anything,” he straightens his tie out, walking down the hall.  He did tell August that you were his problem, but that doesn’t mean he had to listen to it.  He had a goal, and that was to destroy Ari Levinson and his fucking mafia.  Stealing from his family for years.  Paying their dues.  They didn’t need Ari.

“What the fuck is this?” Ari sits up, eyes flitting around the stage.  This was your spot, but that was not you.  “Jonathan, we have a problem.”

“I see that,” he snaps his fingers at the nearest waitress, and she bounces over to them.  Batting her lashes at Ari, anything for extra tips.  “Where’s the Candy girl?”

“Uh…she…sh-sh-she can’t perform,” she was told to forget what happened, and that’s what she should do.

“Why?” Ari growls out, standing up, and she backs away from him.  “You tell me where she is, and I’ll make sure you never have to work another day here in your life.”

“August,” she squeaks out.  Tears falling down her face.  “She was screaming, and Calvin told me to forget.  I’m sorry.  I know she’s your favorite, but they’re…August wants her.”

“Pay her,” Ari demands, darting off towards the dressing rooms.  He has studied The Dirty Martini enough.  He doesn’t stop even when people start yelling at him.  You had given him valuable information, and he was going to make sure that you were kept safe.  Tonight was the night anyway.  The jet was ready.  All he needed was you in it.

It’s easy enough to find your dressing room with your piercing screams.  The hallway was completely empty.  Everyone was fleeing away from your cries for help.  “You fucking bitch!  Not only have you been stealing money, but that prick promises you a ride on his dick, and you start running your cock sucking mouth.”

“August stop!” One more scream, and he slams your head on the vanity, and your vision starts to blur.  “Please, don’t,” whimpering as he kicks your legs further apart.  “Don’t,” between the stars in your eyes, and your tears, you can’t see anything.  With one hand, August holds you down, but he spits in the other.  Your body starts shaking with your cries as you try to take your mind anywhere but here.

August never touches you, and your body does drop down on the floor.  You scurry underneath the dressing table, hiding from whatever commotion is occurring around you.  Pulling your knees up to your chest and hiding your face while Ari pounds into August’s skull.  You look over at Rita who you just know is dead.  You can’t see clearly enough to see if she was breathing.  

Ari spits on August, and turns towards you.  Holding you bridal style, and carrying you out of there, “Rita.”

“Dulce, I’m not worried about her right, sweetheart.  Can you see?” Sniffling, you shake your head no.  “I’m getting you out of here.  Just keep those pretty little eyes open, and look at me,” your face is already forming bruises.  Swelling every second.  And Ari runs a bit faster.  He needs you out of here.  Things happen so quickly as he carries you through the building.  You couldn’t even tell he was running.  

He puts the both of you in the backseat of an SUV, and tells something to his partner, but you cling tighter to him.  Your brother was allowing that monster to touch you in any way that he wanted.  And August kept repeating how he was going to break you in.

“Dulce, eyes open, darling.  We’re getting on the jet.”

“No.  Rita,” you need to know she’s okay.  Your eyes start to flutter close, and Ari gives you a tap to your cheek.  “Ari?”

“Jonathan when we take off, I want you to make sure that Rita is the next one to be retrieved…well…just let me know what you find out.  I’m going off grid for a couple of days,” Jonathan clears his throat as Ari gets the two of you out of the car.  “I have to make sure she’s okay.  Is there a doctor on board?”

“Yes,” Jonathan answers shortly.  There isn’t time for Ari to be missing for a couple of days.  He had a job to do.

“A couple of days.  Give me that,” with that Ari walks the two of you onto the jet.  Trying to sit you in your own seat, but you hold him tighter, “Dulce, I need someone to look at you.”

“Don’t leave me, please,” his hand cups your cheek, and he looks at you so sweetly.  “Please, don’t,” whispering again.  Ari’s glassy eyes look up at the doctor.  He couldn’t.  You need to be checked out.

“Ari, I can look at her while you hold her.  No big deal,” she tilts your head towards her, shining a light into your eyes, and you try not to sob.  Calvin allowed this.  “Other than what I see, did he hurt you anywhere else?” You shake your head, and squeeze tighter to Ari.  “Sweetheart, do you need Ari to leave?”

“No!” The idea of Ari’s skin not touching yours makes your body start to shake uncontrollably, and he pulls you closer to his body.

“Look at me, did he touch you?  Did…did he…”

“No, Angie.  I walked in before he was able to,” a kiss.  The softest kiss is pressed on your temple.  Slowly your breathing regulates, and the tenseness in your body starts to subside.

“Is that true?” Her voice was soft, and reminded you so much of your mother’s.  “Honey, no one here will judge you.  I just need to know.”

“No.  He didn’t.  Ari?”

“I’m right here.  Can you give her something for the pain?  Anything?”

Answering yes, she gets out of her seat, fetching her bag when she comes back, “Now, after your adrenaline has calmed down, I need you to get checked out again.  Where you’re going, someone will know how to get in touch with someone to help.  I fear that you may have fractures.  I’m giving you a fake passport, and ID.  Ari will be listed as your emergency contact, but try not to get lost.  Your bruises are deep.  But you survived.”

Ari softly lays you in a warm bed, walking over to a dresser, he pulls out a few things before heading back to you, “Dulce, sit up, darling,” you sit up, and he pushes back the robe off your body.  Replacing it with a silk nightgown.  His hands never touch your skin, but he is sure to pull it completely down your body.

“I’m going to lay you back down, and change your panties, okay?” Your eyes finally give up their fight, and start closing as you lean back.  “Good girl,” Ari whispers gently.  Every touch on you is with so much care.  And then a thick duvet is pulled over your body, followed by a kiss to your temple.

Sleep starts to overtake you, and your body feels as if it weighs five thousand pounds.  Stuck to the bed, and unable to move.  It’s strangling.  Voices.  So many voices.  Hands.  Rough hands all over you.  Blinding lights.  Piercing pain.  Blurry vision.  Grunts.  Force.

You jolt up in bed sweating, heaving as you look around you.  You had never been here.  Your body is so sore, and you have no idea where you are.  “Ari,” you whisper.  He had been with you.  He saved you.  Throwing off the heavy blanket, you start tiptoeing out the room you are in.  Listening for voices, but there is none.

Your eyes look up and down the hallway, and only one door has a faint glow under it.  It was worth the shot.  Opening up the door you see his handsome face, sleeping calmly.  His bed was bigger, and you didn’t want to be alone.

As you lift up the blanket, Ari sits up abruptly, eyes wide staring at you.  A hand under his pillow, and you gaze at him owlishly, “Dulce, what are you doing?”

“I was having nightmares.”

“I should have figured.  Here,” he opens the blanket, you and get a quick glance at his body.  Gulping as you try and get comfortable.  “What’s wrong?” He asks when you try to twitch around.  “Darling?”

“Can you hold me?” He hesitates, and you know why.  There will be nothing that separates him from you.  He is completely nude, but he still pulls you flush with his body, and you start relaxing.  “Thank you.  I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.  Get some sleep.”

Sleep.  Would it ever be comfortable again?  Before it was a way to escape your life.  Now it was haunting.  And every time that you feel August you wake up to Ari’s hands. His touch is gentle, and not demanding.  It is soft and caring.  Protective.  Comfortable.

“Ari,” you whimper, spreading your legs a bit.  It was stupid, but you think maybe if you had sex with Ari you would quit having visions of August trying to take.  It didn’t make sense, and made total sense all the same, “Ari.”

“Dulce,” Ari responds, with less enthusiasm.  Sitting up in the bed, and slinging his feet over the edge, opposite of you.  His arms go above his head as he stretches out, yawning a bit.  Standing to walk over to the closet, pulling out some clothes, and tugs them on, “You just going to stare at me, or are you going to get dressed?  You remember where your room is?”

“Yeah, but,” you try to act sexy, biting at your lip.  Already cursing yourself for trying.  Ari does smirk at you, but shakes his head.  “But…”

“Get dressed.  I want to introduce to you my favorite woman in the world.”

Woman?  Woman?  What was his deal?  You get out of the bed, and stomp back to your room.  The nightgown definitely covered enough.  But you were told to get dressed.  Get dressed.  Rolling your eyes you open the closet, and pull out the first dress you touch.  He had a closet full of clothes for you.  He slept in the bed naked with you, and he had a woman.  

His favorite woman in the world.  His dick was touching the back of your legs just now, and he had a woman.  In this house?  Or was he keeping you away from her home?  Of all the stupid things, you trusted Ari with more than just your life.  You were acting like a child.  A fool.  And one stupid enough to believe that you were a woman in his life.

“Are you decent?” Ari knocks softly on the door.

“Yes,” your answer is short, but Ari still smiles.  “Where are we?”

“Tuscan,” well, he was full of words this morning.  Get dressed.  Meet my favorite woman in the world.  Are you decent?  Tuscan.  You feel this rage of jealousy build up inside of you, and for what?  Ari didn’t promise you anything.  Nothing.

“Here she is,” he says brightly, giving a big hug to an old woman, “Dulce, this is Nonna.  Nonna, this is…”

“Dulce Newton,” her smile is so large, her eyes completely close.  Crinkles move over her skin, and you look at Ari confused.  “I was the one that gave you that nickname.  You were always so sweet.  Followed Ari around like a lost little puppy.  Sit down.  I made breakfast.  Got you some nice coffee, maybe it’ll help your throat.  I trust the closet is good for you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ari pulls out a chair for you to sit in before he sits down beside you, demanding that Nonna sit down as well.  “I don’t understand.”

“What is there to understand?  You are here, as am I.  I made breakfast, and coffee.  Drink.  Eat.  Later you can go out in the vineyard.  Go to the edge, look out at the ocean.  Travel down to the docks.  Stay away from too many people.  Is that all the words, figlio?  Ari has so many rules for me, and now you have them, too.”

“And you’re still alive, and living your dream on a vineyard,” he pulls his phone out of his pocket, giving it a glance over before his chair screeches on the floor.

“No!” Nonna shouts pointing at him.  “You eat.  Then leave,” you turn to look at him, fear laced in your eyes, and Ari places a calming hand on your thigh.  “No point in arguing.  Duty calls, but he will eat.”

“Dulc, I have some things I need to attend to.  I’ll only be away for a few days, and then I’ll be back, and we will discuss what is going on.  I pissed a lot of people off.”

“Language,” Nonna scolds him, taking a sip of her coffee.  “I know you are a brute, but at this table, you will be respectful.  Especially in front of Dulce.”

“Yes, ma’am,” his hand never leaves your thigh, but not much else is discussed.  There isn’t much use.  Nobody tells Ari what he is going to do.  You just do it.  You just do as you are told.  

Ari stands up abruptly, and walks over to kiss Nonna’s cheeks, before he’s back in front of you.  A soft kiss to your temple, just like the one the night before, “I will be back in a few days.  I have things I have to take care of, and I need you here, and away from everything.  Nonna knows the drill.  Trust her.  I”ll be back.  Take care.”

He places another kiss on your temple before turning to leave.  “There’s no point in worrying about this.  But you seemed a bit upset.  He called me his favorite woman again, didn't he?” You sit in silence, trying to work through your emotions.  It had been a long night.  And you have conflicting feelings.

“Hmm, how did you sleep?  Considering your bed was empty.”

“I slept with Ari.”

“Sleeping slept, or the sexy slept?”

“He wouldn’t,” it wasn’t a lack of trying on your part.  You guess that outside of the club, you are nothing to Ari.

“Good.  Judging by those bruises on your face, neck, wrists, and I’m sure other places the last thing you need is sex.  Ari’s a good man.  If you didn’t mean anything to him, you wouldn’t be here.  And he would have had sex with you.  He can have sex with whoever he wants, but the ones he holds out on mean more than just a good lay,” she reaches across the table to hold onto your hand, and then stands carrying dishes to the sink, and you catch a glimpse behind her ear.

You don’t say anything, just tuck your legs up against your chest.  Thinking.

“I don’t expect you to always talk, but you should always listen.  You had a traumatic evening I gathered.  Your brother is running your dad’s business to the ground.  I’ve heard stories.  The day Ari had someone bring in loads of clothes here for you.  No one ever comes here.  No one even knows this place exists except the people that were here, and two others.  The one that brought your clothes, well she’s the only one that visits regularly.”

You look out the kitchen window.  Sprawling vineyards cover the backyard.  This is a piece of paradise.  “Yeah, but if it’s Ari’s house, people will know.  It can’t stay hidden for long.”

“It’s mine.  Ari might have paid for it, but this is mine.  It’s too big, but that’s how he is.  He likes things to be grand, and make a statement,” she tucks a wisp of hair behid her ear, causing even more attention to that spot, and you can’t help but stare at it.  “I wasn’t so different from you.  Ari’s grandfather saved me.  I was branded like cattle.  Looks like you're branded in bruises.  Did he touch you?”

You swallow bile as tears immediately cascade down your face.  Shaking your head no.  You knew what she meant.  August didn’t get the chance.  “He was going to though?” The tears come more rapidly, and Nonna moves to sit down beside you.  Wrapping an arm around your shoulder, and pulling you into her.  “There, there.  You not only survived, but now you get to live.”

“I think he killed my friend.  She wasn’t breathing,” Rita stepped in to protect you, and received a vase of flowers to the back of her head before August head butted her.  “Ari left her.”

“Ari’s goal was to get you out of there.  You’re of no value dead.”

“I gave him just a bit of information.”

“No.  He wouldn’t have allowed you to sleep in his bed.  My boy sleeps naked.  If you were just information he would have fucked you.  He wouldn’t have come back after you gave him the information.  He’s a smart man, sweet Dulce.  He came back for you, not the information.  He left I’m sure for some unfinished business.  Maybe to check on your friend.  But there’s no point in crying over Ari’s business.  You get used to the men going away.  Coming back bearing gifts to apologize.  They live hard lives, and want something soft to come home to.  You’re safe here, but stay away from large crowds.  Don’t leave the property until your bruises are healed.  People ask too many questions, and you will lead them right to our sanctuary.”

“I didn’t want to be a part of this life,” Nonna kisses the top of your head, and stands up, heading back to the sink.  

“You being here means you’re not a part of that life.  If you were a part of it, Ari would have you on his arm.  Showing off what he has that no one else does.  He brought you here to give you a different life than the mafia games, and dealing in drugs and pussy.  And you know it’s true.  You’re not in that life.  You’re in his.  Why don’t you walk through the vines.  They’re quite calming.  Later, I can show you the wine cellar.  Ari loves his wine.  It’d be a shame to not have that pretty dress blowing in the wind.  Heaven knows how much he spent on those clothes.”

Her weathered hands start scrubbing the breakfast dishes, and you stare at her burned skin a bit longer.  She was owned, and someone had wanted everyone to know who owned her.  “I didn’t know Ari was Italian.”

“He’s not.  I am.  His grandfather and I were never married.  Never were lovers, but best friends.”

“He rescued you, and…”

“His grandfather and him are not the same person, Dulce.  You still have that crush on my boy?” You shrug your shoulders, because you weren’t quite sure what you thought of Ari.  There was a raw attraction to him, but to say that you wanted anything more than sexual comfort was silly.

“Hmm.  Enjoy the sun, Dulce.  Enjoy being able to get out and have some freedom.  I’m sure that they kept you hidden and locked up.  Controlled your outfits, your hair, makeup, even the way your body looked.  This is your life now.  Live it.”

“What you said earlier,” Nonna turns to look at you, giving you her undivided attention.  There is something that has been bothering you.  “Ari and I…we…he bought a private room to be with me.  So I am…I’m just sex for him.”

“Mmm,” she takes a deep breath as she wipes her hands on her apron.  Moving to sit at the table with you, “Isn’t that private room where you were able to give Ari some valuable information about your brother’s plans?”

“Well, yeah, but…it wasn't’ sex, but…”

“You mean, you were being a smart woman.  Getting some enjoyment, while you gave him a bit of information while the cameras were on.  They only caught you and Ari having some pleasures of the flesh.  Dulce, I meant what I said.  That was a different instance.  What happened before is not now.  You did what you had to do to get out of there.  And when I tell you that you are more than just the wet cunt in between your thighs, it’s what I meant.  I don’t — I don’t play games with you or my boy’s mafia.  I know him.  I half raised that man.  He values you far more than you’re giving yourself credit for.  So what if he tasted or felt your warmth.  Things are at play.  It’s best you keep your head down and stop worrying about what these boys are doing to keep their territories in check.  It won't’ be long.  Calvin and August will not overturn Ari’s power.  Now, go enjoy your freedom.”

Squinting out at the horizon of the ocean, you watch as a few boats float into the dock.  You still hadn’t gathered the courage to leave the property, but there is something so serene about watching the boats.  The salty air hangs thick in the air, and the sun paints across your cheeks.  The bruises had since faded, but the pain was still there.

A few days had turned into a couple of weeks, and there was no word from Ari.  Nonna told you there wouldn’t be.  He didn’t call here.  He just appeared, and would leave again.  You bring your knees up to your chest, circling your arms around them.  This became your stance.  No one else was here to hold you, so you hold yourself.  

Things at the little countryside home were peaceful.  And most impostly free.  Free from your brother and August.  Free from being put on stage as a naked dancing bear.  Unfortunately it was also free of Ari.  He lied.  He didn’t return, and left no word for you to know if everything is okay or if he is even alive.

He didn’t get to see you in the kitchen with Nonna as she taught you to cook and bake her favorite foods.  He never saw you mess up your bed, only to sneak into his bedroom every night.  Making the bed again before Nonna woke, while you pretend that you had slept in your room.  He didn’t know that you had sprayed his cologne on his pillows and your nightgowns to help you sleep.  He definitely didn’t know that you sat at the edge of the property watching the boats and tide come in; listening to the seagulls caw, and hope that one day he would come back to you.

You were free from being property to whatever man paid enough.  But you were trapped here longing for his return.  Wondering.  Worrying.  Waiting.  And every day that passed was another day of disappointment.

Ari steps into the kitchen.  Could already smell Nonna preparing something for dinner.  He says out her name, alerting her of his arrival and hopefully you as well.  She gives him a swat to his arm glaring, “How dare you, Ari Levinson.”

“What did I do?”

“A few days.”

“It’s business, and you know it’s never a few days,” he apologizes as his eyes move to the smaller set of stairs.  Not nearly as grand as the one in the front of the house.  “Is she napping?”

“She’s where she always is, sitting and waiting on you.  A stupid man with his stupid lies.  Telling me a few days in one thing, telling a girl who trauma bonded with you is another.  Stupid man.  You’re smart enough to not sleep with the girl, and still too dumb to realize she needs her savior.  You can allow your second to deal with some things while you get her settled.”

“She told you I didn’t sleep with her?” Nonna starts cursing at him in Italian, and Ari sits at the table, letting her berate him.  “Nonna, I didn’t sleep with her because…”

“You like the girl.  That’s why you couldn’t.  You have this protective hold over her.  You want to make sweet love with her in your mind, and your body is ready to devour her.”

“You gotta stop reading those trash books.”

“You like her, and she likes you.  She did before that night, and then you stepped in and saved her.  You told me she held onto you the whole flight here, and then you think you can just leave, you stupid man.  Aye yi yi.  What am I going to do with you two?” She starts talking to herself in her mother tongue, and Ari tries to piece together what she’s saying before interrupting.

“Taylor was missing,” Nonna stops talking quickly, and slowly sits down at the table.  “We located her, and she is recovering from her injuries.  Ready to tear me a new one because she doesn’t like outsiders involved.  I couldn’t put my second in charge because I didn’t have a second.  This is bigger than expected.”

“Hmm,” is all Nonna says as she goes back to her cooking.  Ari hopes for her to respond to more, but she doesn’t.  She starts humming a song that you had been singing, ignoring Ari.

“Are you going to tell me where she is?”

“Look out the window.  Take that basket.  I was going to take her some lunch, and now you can.  Grab a bottle of wine,” Ari stands at the double doors, watching you.  You looked peaceful, but sad.  One of the many dresses that he bought you billows in the wind.  “She sits there everyday.  Looking out at the ocean, and waiting on you.  Your sister is at the restaurant.  She sounded angry.  Maybe because her wife was missing?”

“I don’t care.  Taylor has been located.  I’ll visit with Leah later,” he grabs a bottle of wine from the cabinet, and the basket of lunch.  Jauntily walking out to you.  It had been far too long.  This week was shaping up to be a bunch of women angry with him.  

“Dulce.”

“Go away,” you answer coldly.  You didn’t want to look at him.  Looking at him hurt.

“Dulce, let me explain.”

“A few days, Ari.  You were gone for nineteen days.  Maybe next time you can tell me your definition of a few days is,” he joins you on your blanket.  Leaning forward, he tries to get your attention, but instead you turn your head up and away from him.  “I wait here everyday for you to return.”

“I’m here now.”

“I won’t be stuck here and be lied to about how long you’re going to be gone.  I deserve to know where you are.  How you are, and how much longer you are going to be.  You come here with…with a picnic basket and wine, and you want me to just open up my arms and let you back in, and I…I worried about you everyday.”

“I know.  And I am sorry, I truly am,” reaching for your hand, you flinch away, and he stops.  Letting his hand rest on his own thigh.  “I ran into some problems.  My second in command was missing.  She had to be located.  She has been, she is now in charge for at least a week.”

“She?”

“My sister’s wife.  Leah didn’t want to have anything to do with our world, but she fell in love with a girl that did.  I wasn’t just locating my second in command.  I was locating my sister-in-law.  She is now safe, and recovering from minor injuries, and before you ask, it had nothing to do with The Dirty Martini.  That is something entirely separate.  Jonathan got Rita out of the club, and she’s…she suffered from injuries, and is in a completely different safe house.  No one knows about this place.  And I will continue to keep it that way.  You got jealous when I mentioned my second was a she.”

You protest by shaking your head.  Laying your hand on the blanket, you are not as angry now, and long for his touch.  Even if he thinks you were jealous.  You are not.  It’s just insulting to think he was looking for a woman, while you are here.  And even thinking it makes you realize how ridiculous you’re being.  “Yeah, you were.  What is there to be jealous of?”

“You…I…Ari, this is complicated.”

“No it’s not.”

“I offered to have sex with you, and you denied me.  But at the club you…”

“I touched you, and tasted you, yes.  I played my part just like you did,” he almost gets a chance to lay his hand on top of yours, but instead you cross your arms.  “Dulce, please, stop.  What happened in that private room, with cameras you can not bring out here.”

“You know what I taste like.”

“What is your point?” You will not answer.  He is being an ass.  Two can play that game.  “That room was for you to survive.  We did what we had to do for you to exchange information.”

“You enjoyed it.”

“If I recall, as did you.”

“Ugh,” you scoff, completely turning your body to where your back is facing him.  “You paid for me before knowing who I was or what information I had to offer.  You used me.”

“We used each other.”

“You…you had your fingers inside of me.”

“And they slipped in easily, because you were soaked.”

“You’re a pig,” this shouldn’t hurt so much.  Clearly he is just a client.  You can not get attached because you are nothing more than entertainment to him.

“And you were playing the part of a paid for whore.  You’re not in there and I will not treat you as a paid companion now.  Do you understand?” You slowly and dramatically exhale, and it only irritates Ari even more, “Do you understand?  I am not paying for your time.  I don’t need you grinding on my lap, and fucking my fingers, while you whisper how your brother and August have this half baked plan to overthrow my family.  Dulce, no matter what you think, me not fucking you is being respectful.  What do you want me to do?  Lay you down flat on this blanket, and pull your dress up, railing into you?”

“I want you to want to do that.”

“Oh my god!  I do want to do that!” You glance over your shoulder looking at him.  His outburst is not at all what you had been expecting.  “The only thing I have thought about every night as I was fucking my hand was sinking into you.  But I don’t want just sex with you.  You get it now?  I brought you here to my family.  Not my mafia family, but my favorite protected people.  If you were only as good as the information you gave me, you would be in an actual safe house instead of my Nonna’s home.  I chose this place because I wanted you more than just safety.  Now, turn around, and have lunch with me, and quit practically begging me to fuck you.  It just may happen, but it’s not going to happen right now.”

You do turn around, but you still don’t look at him.  You still don’t say anything, just grab the picnic basket and pull out two plates.  Laying out some cheese, grapes, and bread while Ari fills wine glasses.  “You’re not going to talk to me, hmm?”

“I am still mad at you.”

“Be mad at me, but you could at least smile.”

“Can I sleep in the bed with you?”

“I sleep naked.”

“Then you better have the resistance of the strongest man alive because I already sleep in there every night.  That is my bed.  You can continue to sleep naked,” and you preferred that.

“I’ll be late,” it is already starting again.  You throw your head back growling, and Ari laughs a moment, “Leah is demanding an audience with me.  I have to wait until she closes the restaurant to do that.  Okay?  Just have on one of your pretty little nightgowns, and wait on me.  I’m not leaving Tuscan.  I’m just going into the city.  I’ll wear a tracking device if you want me to.”

“No.  But I want you back within an hour.  And I want you to stop lying to me.”

“Fine.  I won’t be gone longer than two hours, but it should be closer to an hour.  Leah talks, I listen.  She probably just wants to fuss at me for losing her wife.”

“Fine.  Pass the Brie, please,” Ari nods his head with a smile, but passes the Brie.  He has never been told what to do by a woman.  And here you are making demands of him, and he isn't even angry.  There is respect.  But also it turned him on that you weren’t afraid to make such demands.  He dreaded going to talk to Leah almost as much as he did talking with Taylor.  Leah was well suited for this business.  Too bad she hated everything about it.  Except her wife.

Ari didn’t care what the business was, he was going to spend time here.  Time with Nonna, his sister, but most importantly; time with you.

Ari reaches a hand out, placing it respectfully on your knee, and you actually allow him that touch.  His thumb traces over the joint as he takes a bite. The two of you go into a less intense conversation than the one prior.  Comfort.  He was like a warm hug.

Nonna looks up through her kitchen window as she finishes her task of the moment.  A smile creeps up on her face before she closes the curtains.  The two of you are going to be okay.  People never could stay mad at Ari, and you were proving to be no different. But from the looks of it, you had given him your boundaries. Just like she told you to. Ari hated to read between the lines. He always wanted to know.  And it looked like you were going to tell him exactly what you wanted.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season​ @marveloustaylortot​ @pono-pura-vida​ @sstan-hoe​ @missusbarnes-rogers​ @peaches1958​ @seitmai​ @smile1318​ @andydrysdalerogers​ @cjand10​ @buckysteveloki-me​ @whimsyplaty92​ @elrw24​ @lovsalpkn @midnightramyeoncravings​ @angelmather1​ @slowdownbeforeyouregretit​

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Lovers & Friends (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Keigo Takami x Black!Fem!Reader (Friends to Lovers)

Synopsis: In which you and Keigo have begun to realize the strange new feelings you both have for each other after one drunken night at a close friend’s wedding that ends with you in his bed, but because of your longtime friendship and committed relationships with other people, you’re more than happy to forget that night even happened and keep your mutual feelings in the dark…for now, at least. 

Story Warnings: Smutty smut; 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY); Cheating/Infidelity; Mating; Light Degradation; Spanking; Exhibitionism; Multiple Positions; Creampie; Unprotected PIV Sex; Facials; Scent Play; Marking; Spitting; Deepthroating; Cunnilingus; Begging; Edgeplay; Power Play; Daddy Kink; Some Angst; Hurt/Comfort; Mild Violence

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic (except for Rei and Haruko). However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: AO3 is down & supposedly leading people to a scammy site looking to steal personal info, so for now, these 2 chapters are staying on Tumblr until further notice. It's ALWAYS something, I s2g. -Jazz

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Bonus Chapter.

Read on AO3 here!

************

Chapter Six: Sex on the Beach.

Keigo swears your ass has never looked better than it does in your perfect, little peach-colored dress. 

He would be lying if he said he hasn't been watching the damn thing bounce and jump beneath your sundress ever since you hit the dance floor. Rumi continuously hyping you up doesn’t make it any better. “Yeeeesss, Y/N!” she screams over the music, just as drunk as you are. “Fuck it uuuuup!” 

You are happy to do so, bending your knees even more and tossing ass like it’s no one’s business. Keigo does his best to not stare, instead trying to focus on the other drunk guests who are worse off with their dance moves.

However, a certain someone doesn’t allow him to do so when he walks up next to him with a low whistle. “Looks like someone is feeling the champagne,” Fatgum chuckles, holding a whiskey glass in his hand. 

“Shit, she’s been feelin’ it for hours now,” Keigo sighs as he and Fatgum watch you buss it to the music, your braids in your face and drink in your hand. You’ve gathered the eyes of a few men since your second mimosa, including the staff, the DJ, and a few pros who don’t know what’s good for them. They only stopped when Keigo looked at them like he had a Glock in his suit pocket for them if they kept eyeing his friend down. 

He supposes that he should take the blame for your carefreeness though. He loves seeing you completely free of all your worries, especially about your asshole boyfriend.

But he also knows drunk you can get into some trouble. He remembers that one Halloween when you got so drunk at Nemuri’s masquerade party that you nearly made out with someone you thought was Rei wearing the same colored mask. Or that time Dabi whipped you up his own cocktail and had you skinny-dipping in Keigo’s pool. 

He’s had his own fair share of embarrassing, drunk stories though. And plus, seeing you throwing ass and laughing your pretty laugh is much better than seeing you down in the dumps for Rei. Keigo knew for a fact that the dickhead made you cry earlier. You would’ve never ventured away from the wedding if he hadn’t. Keigo knows you like he knows his favorite book, which means patron shots were definitely the way to ease your broken heart. 

He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t tell you to run the story back for him. He just wanted to see you smile and enjoy today…only those patron shots turned into a chocolate martini and two glasses of mimosas hours later. He knows he’ll have to scrap you up off the floor later, but if he is forced to do that, plus curb the hard-on struggling against his suit slacks as he watches you dance, he’ll do that. After all, you deserve to be happy. 

He decides to attempt to distract himself again by turning to Fatgum, averting his eyes from the arousing scene. “So how’s it feel to be a married man now?” He asks, nodding at Fathom’s wedding band. “Do you feel any differently?” 

Fatgum looks at him with a happy gleam in his eye. “To be honest with you, Hawks, not really,” he sheepishly replies. "It feels great to finally be married to the one I love more than anyone in this world, but the way I feel for Haruko wouldn’t have changed even without a ring.” He looks down at his wedding band, a small, adoring smile on his lips. “I guess I thought a ring would’ve made it more real, you know?” 

Keigo doesn’t know. He couldn’t think of knowing…at least that’s what he tells himself. However, the image of you in a wedding dress walking down the aisle is a little too vivid for him. The only one he’s ever loved is you, but none of that could ever see the light of day. It’d ruin everything.

So he gives Fatgum a smile and pretends that he knows exactly what he’s talking about. “Well, if you ask me, it looked real from the very start,” he chuckles. 

Fatgum gives him a grateful smile, a twinkle in his eye. Keigo envies him. How would it feel to feel so deeply about someone who feels the same about you so openly? Fatgum and Haruko looked so in love today. Every time they looked at each other, even when the other wasn’t looking, Keigo saw nothing but acceptance, adoration, and pure love. It is hard not to be jealous of such a thing. 

“Girls, girls!” Yu suddenly hollers, red in the face and obviously gone off the champagne. She runs onto the dance floor towards you and Rumi, her overexcited behavior causing you to stop dancing. ”Haruko is about to throw the bouquet!”

Keigo looks towards where Yu is pointing and surely enough, Haruko is standing near the snack table where a crowd of women have begun to surround her, just as excited. Something about seeing Haruko, so happy and giggly, in her wedding dress and Fatgum smiling at her with such love in his eyes does something to Keigo.

Fatgum’s haunting words from his bachelor party come back to him, rising out of the fog in his tipsy mind: ’Those bachelor days won’t last forever…’ 

Keigo clears his throat, knowing now is the right time to bare himself to his friend. He turns to him, forcing his wings to not tremble. “Hey, listen; I’m sorry for what happened at your bachelor party…you know, when we were playing pool at the bar. I didn’t–” 

“Stop.” Fatgum’s voice is firm but not unkind. He gives Keigo a reassuring smile, the sunset in his eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for, Hawks. You have your opinion and I’ve got mine. I’m just glad you’re here and showed up for me as my best man.” He pats Keigo on the shoulder with his big hand. “When Y/N comes down off her high, thank her for coming too.” 

“You’re leaving?” Keigo curiously asks. Fatgum gives him a mischievous smirk. “After Haruko throws the bouquet and I get my hands on that garter, hell yeah. Speaking of which…” He pulls on Keigo’s arm, walking him farther away from the crowd that has begun to grow around Haruko. “You might wanna stand back.” 

Keigo is glad Fatgum saved him because he definitely would’ve gotten trampled by the slew of screaming guests wanting their chance at catching Haruko’s bouquet. Among them are you, Nemuri, Yu, and Rumi, excitedly jumping up and down as Haruko turns around to toss the bouquet of flowers behind her. As soon as they go flying, the crowd reacts, jumping as high as they can to catch it.

You prove to be victorious when the bouquet tumbles in the middle of the crowd and you snatch it up, nearly losing a shoe. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it!” you practically scream, excitedly jumping up and down.

While half of the guests applaud you and the others give you dirty looks, Keigo silently stares at you with the bouquet in your hands. That image of you gliding down the aisle in your wedding dress comes back to him again like a nagging mosquito, pestering him further. What bothers him even more is the look he’s picturing on your face: so full of love; a mirror of Fatgum’s expression when he looked at Haruko walking down the aisle. It is so vivid that it frightens him. 

“Keigo?” a small voice asks behind him. The man nearly has a heart attack when he turns around and sees Sakura standing there. He realizes that Fatgum is gone and the bouquet crowd has dispersed, leaving him standing there like an idiot staring at you. God, he's down bad.

“Hey, babe, you’re up!” he chirps, moving to kiss Sakura’s forehead which he notices feels heated and clammy. “Everything alright?” 

Sakura had been sleeping in one of the extra tents for the majority of the wedding after her third glass of champagne. Keigo figured he’d just let her rest while he acted a fool for the rest of the event until it ended. “I feel awful,” she groans, putting a hand on her stomach. “My nap was interrupted by my stomach. That lobster I ate must not be settling right.”

Keigo’s brain pedals back to Sakura’s plate which consisted of a side salad, pasta, and lobster meat slathered in butter and lemon. “Aw, shit, babe,” he coos empathetically. He moves toward her, wanting to gather her up in a hug. “I’m so-“ 

“Keigo!” Rumi shouts, from the dance floor. She has an empty glass in her hand and is barefoot. “They’re playing your song!” The song in question is from Rihanna’s ANTI album and the way he watches you twirl your ass and hips around makes him love it even more. His eyes flick back to Sakura’s, feeling horribly guilty and disgusted with himself. He shouldn’t be gawking at a whole other woman, especially his best friend. 

Sakura gives him a reassuring smile, nudging him towards the dance floor. “Go on and have fun. I’ll be fine.” But he refuses, shaking his head. “You won’t be fine to me until I know you’re home safe,” he firmly says, already taking her hand to lead her to the parking lot. “Here, I’ll drive you home. It’s no problem.” 

“But you’re still having fun here,” she protests, slipping her hand out of his grasp. “Don’t let me ruin tonight for you just because I’m feeling sick, Keigo. Seriously, go have fun. I’ll call you when I get in the Uber I’m gonna order.” 

The sound of your high-pitched laugh drifts in the air, making Keigo’s heart pick up speed. Though Sakura is giving him permission to go and have fun, he’d feel even more like a horrible person and boyfriend if he were to listen to her.

“Nah, fuck that,” he huffs stubbornly. As a waitress walks by with a tray of plates and glasses, he snatches up a water bottle and hands it to Sakura. “Stay here for a minute and drink that.” 

He doesn’t wait for Sakura to agree or protest before rushing over to the dance floor where his four friends are still acting up. “Hey, you crackheads gonna leave soon so the cleaning crew can do their job?” he hollers. You pout at him cutely, a glass in one hand and Haruko’s bouquet in the other.. “But the music is still going!” you whine in protest. 

“Only ‘cause you’re still here, baby bird. All four of you.” He nods at you, Rumi, Nemuri, and Yu–all equally as drunk and in need of sleep. “The reception is over anyway. Haven’t you noticed the dance floor emptying out or were you too busy tossin’ out your best stripper moves?” 

You begin to look around in a daze, realizing that the staff is cleaning up and guests are beginning to head to the parking lot. Rumi giggles, nudging her hip with yours. “The birdie’s right, y’all. I noticed the place has been getting kinda dry ever since the cake was sliced and the bouquet was thrown.” 

“Which I’ve still got!” you proudly yell, waving the flowers around. “Which means I’m gonna eventually find a love that I’ll marry and the rest of you single bitches can kiss my black ass.” You take a handful of your ass in your dress and squeeze it, making the girls giggle and Keigo want to kill himself. Why the fuck do you have to be so goddamn fine? 

“So what do we do now?” Rumi asks. “Just go home and wallow in our depression?” 

“That could be an option,” Keigo chuckles, “but I was suggesting we take this party somewhere else. Preferably a nightclub downtown. Anybody down?”

Your entire face changes as you gape at him at the sound of more partying. “Yes!” you excitedly shout, jumping up and down with your bouquet. “I need to shake my ass some more!” 

Nemuri sighs tiredly, her arms wrapped around Yu’s waist. “As much as I’d love to join, but I need to get this one home.” She smiles at Yu who looks like she’s about to drop, her head against Nemuri’s shoulder. “Plus, I’m in need of my beauty sleep,” she yawns, putting a dainty hand to her open mouth. 

“And I’m in need of finally getting my hands on that guitarist,” Rumi purrs, eyeing the same short-haired, Amazonian woman with the perky ass and dark skin she’s been lying up all day who is currently packing her electric guitar away with the wedding band. 

“Say no more,” Keigo snickers. “Guess this is where we say goodnight, ladies?” Nemuri blows him a kiss while Rumi gives him a tight hug. “Try not to get in too much trouble, okay?” she laughs with a wink.

She turns to you, pointing a finger at you. “And you…be careful with that bouquet.” That obviously means for you to be on your best behavior too. You just giggle which gives Keigo the impression that you’ll be doing none of that. 

Once the crew finally disbands for the evening, you come walking up to him, stumbling a bit as you do. Instantly, he grabs your arm and hooks it through his to steady you. He doesn’t need you falling and busting up your (pretty) face. “Soooo when we goin’?” you cutely ask, a small hiccup in your voice. 

“Lemme drive Sakura home and I can drive us there afterward.” He doesn’t say anything else as he escorts you over to Sakura who is still standing in the same spot he left her in. “Got somebody carpooling with us, babe!” he cheerfully states, walking you over to Sakura. She smiles at you, sipping on an ice-cold Ginger Ale can that he definitely didn’t give her. “Where’d you get that Ginger Ale?” he curiously asks. 

“Oh, your friend gave it to me,” she happily replies. “Snipe!” She points over to the snack table where guests are busy stuffing their takeout containers full of leftovers. Sure enough, pro hero Snipe is over there, wearing his mask and a cowboy hat with his navy blue wedding suit, stuffing a container full of shrimp. 

Keigo bites the inside of his cheek, wondering if he should say something. He’s never had an issue with Snipe and this could’ve been purely innocent, but why he decided to talk to his girlfriend now while he wasn’t with her doesn’t rub him the right way. “C’mon, you two,” he grumbles, wrapping his arms around you and Sakura and quickly escorting you away from the wedding. 

The ride to Sakura’s apartment is surprisingly smooth and quick despite it being a Friday night. When he rolls up to her building and parks, he tells you to stay up and walks Sakura up to the steps to the lobby door despite her protests. He stays at the bottom steps, watching over her as she digs into her clutch for her keys. “You sure you’re okay with gettin’ inside?” he worriedly asks.

She looks down at him, the soft glow of the apartment building lights illuminating her pink hair and eyes. I’m perfectly okay with unlocking my own door, babe,” she giggles. “Now go shake your tail feather with Y/N.” 

He cracks a smile at her little joke and gives her a kiss on the cheek before she walks into the lobby. “Call me if you need anything, alright?” he calls after her, only to get a wave in response. When she finally disappears inside the building, he walks back to his car and slips into the driver’s seat.

You’re sitting in the passenger’s seat, feet up on the dashboard, and chomping down on leftover wedding cake. “She okay?” you ask, looking concerned. 

Keigo nods, strapping himself in. “Just a stomach bug; nothing to worry your drunk ass about. All you need to worry about is havin’ some fun with your very best friend.” He pokes at your forehead and laughs when you swat at him. 

“So where are we goin’ anyway?” you curiously ask, a small, excitable smile adoring your glossy, plump lips.

Keigo just grins at you before starting the car. 

************

When Keigo finally pulls up to his favorite downtown nightclub, the place is completely packed. 

Clubhouse, one of Keigo's favorite nightclubs, is one of the most high-end places that Musutafu has to offer. Located in a five-star hotel, it comes with the best customer and bottle services, great music, and security guards who take the privacy of pro heroes very seriously, as does the manager. Keigo knows the guy. He had saved his life after a couple of stupid kids tried to rob the joint a year ago. Since then, he gets free bottle service and a free hotel room if he doesn't feel like flying or driving home after a nightly romp. 

He has spent a few nights at the five-star hotel he pulls up to…okay, maybe more than a few. He’s told you many of these stories that ended in drunk sex and waking up in a hotel suite, not remembering much that happened that night before. You also know he enjoys this spot over others because of the infinity pool they have on the rooftop that you have yet to take a dip in.

Hopefully, tonight, once the liquor starts talking, that will change. 

The club is jumping once Keigo parks in the valet and escorts you inside the five-star hotel. Stretching over three stories high with balconies, stairways upstairs to the bars, and crystal chandeliers, he can see bodies from head to toe. Shadows dance on the walls, illuminated by the strobe lights flashing in time with the pop music blasting from overhead.

He can feel his heart pound and his stomach jump excitedly with the vibrations of the music and the sparklers he sees bottle girls carry with them on trays of the most expensive vodka for parties of four and five. 

He is completely in his element while, unbeknownst to him, you feel out of place. “Okaaay, birdie,” he whistles, an easy smile on his face. “So we’re here…now what?”

He turns to you, noticing the frown on your face. “I have no idea,” you admit sheepishly. “It’s like now that I’m sobering up, I’m less hype to be here.” 

Keigo tuts disappointedly, taking your hand in his and ignoring the way his body sings at your touch. “That ain’t no good. Come on.”

He escorts you through the throng of bodies, ignoring the folks who gape and gawk at him. The most he’s gotten here are people begging for pictures and autographs, plus the occasional groupie. But other than that, he’s never had any trouble here. He knew it was the perfect place to bring you to get over your heartbreak. 

He leads you over to the bar and settles down next to you in a booth. “Bartender!” he hollers, waving him over.

The young man turns to him, looking bored out of his mind before he gets a look at Keigo’s face. “Yeah, it’s me, Hawks pro hero number two, nice to meet ya.” He flashes him a big, gigawatt grin. “Listen, can I get a round of tequila shots?” 

The bartender vigorously nods. “And for your girlfriend, sir?” he curiously asks. Keigo almost asks the guy what the hell he’s talking about until he realizes that he means you.

You stare at each other, both shocked. “O-Oh, no, we’re not…” You trail off, your words dying in the tense air around you. Keigo can’t speak, his mouth too dry to do so. “H-He’s just my friend,” you softly stammer. “Just a Sex on the Beach for me.” 

He tries not to let on how much that stung him: he’s just my friend. But that’s what he is, isn’t he? That’s what he's always been.

You go to take out your wallet, but like the good friend he is, he pushes your hand away. “Uh-uh, put it back,” he sternly says. “Your date just left you at a wedding, baby bird. The least I can do is pay for your drink.” 

He pulls out fifty and hands it to the bartender who hurries to get your orders. “I still can’t believe he did that,” you sigh, disheartened. “All I wanted was to try and spice things up for us sexually, and…” You put a hand to your chin, staring off into the distance, your mind somewhere else. 

“So what exactly happened?” he softly asks, trying to pull you back to reality. With him. “If you feel like talking, that is.” 

You surprisingly budge. “I asked Rumi for advice on how to make our sex better, so she suggested either spicing things up with some kinks I enjoy or talking to him about what I like.”

You cross your gorgeous legs on the stool and Keigo has to force himself to keep his eyes firmly on yours. “I’d figured a quickie would’ve been fun, but he wasn’t with it, and my drunk ass took that as an insult, so I asked for a break.” 

“Did you break up with him?” he asks, hoping to God you’ll say yes. Only because Red is such a dickhead. You look away, staring instead at the polished mahogany of the bar. “Not…technically…” 

Keigo scowls at your cryptic answer. “Da fuck’s that mean?” he scoffs, confused. You flush under the strobe lights, tapping your acrylic nails against the bar. “I asked for a break at least until the Gala since he’s so hellbent on getting his award. I didn’t want to distract him from his work.” 

“Distract him?” he parrots, the words tasting sour to him. “Y/N, if he barely has time for you because he’s too busy trying to win a fuckin’ award, then he has no busy dating you, period. He doesn’t even realize what he’s got.” You smile shyly at his words, but he is being deadass with you. He could’ve shaken you right then. Why don't you understand how special you are?

“So now you’re single…for now, at least?” he questions, doing his best to not sound hopeful or completely interested in your dating life. Your shoulders slump as you cup your cheek in your hand, your pretty lips pouting. “I guess so. Maybe I should just get like Rumi and just sleep with whoever for the hell of it.” 

He smacks the bar, encouraging your sexual liberation. “That’s the spirit!” he encourages. The bartender returns with your drink and the round of tequila shots. “Oh, look; your drink! Be careful with this one. It’s fruity and sweet so you may wanna drink it less like it’s water.”

You do so, sipping slowly on your Sex on the Beach. As soon as the liquid hits your tongue, your eyes adorably widen. “Mmm!” you hum, eyes blown and face written in joy. “Holy fuck, this is amazing!”

You wave down the bartender, animately waving your arm around. “Bartender, gimme another one of these!” Keigo stares at you, doing his best to hold back a grin. “What?” you scoff. “I’m single and sad, okay? Let me have fun!” 

He raises his hands in defense. “I didn’t say anything,” he snickers. He then passes you a shot glass and picks up his own, raising it. “To complicated relationships.” You nod, giggling tipsily. “And fuck love!” you shout before downing your shot. Keigo does the same, downing his shot and letting the tequila burn his throat before he sucks on the lime it comes with. 

For the next hour, you’re downing shots and sipping on your two Sex on the Beaches like it’s no one’s business. Of course, Keigo makes sure you take a couple sips of water in between your alcohol splurging, but even he is starting to feel the buzz of the tequila as he gives you side glances here and there, checking you out. Your legs and chest are starting to look way too good, and his cock agrees–he’s been trying to curb the boner he is sporting for the past hour now. 

When you start to feel real good and loose, one of your favorite 2000s Rihanna songs starts playing from overhead, and the vibe in the club completely shifts. You gasp happily, hopping off of your stool. “Oooh, this is my shit!” you squeal, already moving onto the dance floor. “Kei, come dance with me!”

You grab his hand and try to pull him over to the dancing bodies on the floor, but he barely budges. “Nah, but I’ll watch in case I need to drag you out of there.” 

You pout but wave him off and go off to dance alone. He watches you walk away from the sidelines, drinking in how your ass sways and bounces as you strut. When you start to dance, he just about has a heart attack. He can’t keep his eyes off of your hips, legs, or the curve of your back. Not to mention the way you bounce and twirl that ass of yours.

He inhales deeply, doing his best to keep calm, but it feels as if he’s about to explode. How dare you be so fucking sexy? What the fuck is your problem? 

He is so thankful when his phone vibrates in his pocket because he can’t promise he wouldn’t have tried to jump you on the dance floor. He slides his phone out of his pocket and grins at the caller ID, answering it without a second thought. “Well, I didn’t think I’d hear your lovely voice tonight,” he cheerfully says, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Now you got somethin’ to nut to later,” Dabi chuckles in his gravelly, deep tone. “I’ve been told my voice is a panty dropper.” 

“Well, for the chicks who dig chain smokers, sure,” Keigo wittily replies, earning a guttural laugh from Dabi in response. “What are you callin’ me for? You got your perks back?” 

“For my free days, no, and they cut my phone calls short since they’re still investigating that riot.” Dabi sighs, evidentially frustrated. “I got about ten minutes left. You still at the wedding? Where’s Y/N and Rumi at?” 

Keigo turns to you, ignoring the way you swirl your hips or how you’d look on top of him. “Y/N, it’s Dabi on the phone!” he calls to you over the music before speaking to Dabi again. “We left and we’re at a club. Rumi couldn’t hang, so it’s just me and Y/N.” 

You skip over to him, your gorgeous titties bouncing and braids swaying down your back. “Dabi!” you scream into the phone, no doubt taking Dabi’s eardrum out. “Oh, my God, Dabi, I miss you soooo much! You’re such a dick for not bein’ here!” 

“Jesus, girl, you’ve been drinking?” Dabi questions, and Keigo pictures him rubbing at his ear that you just screamed into.

You giggle hysterically, nodding despite him not being able to see you. “Yes, sir! Since the reception ended!” When the music transitions to Beyoncé’s Virgo’s Groove, you just about have a heart attack. “Kei, you have to dance with me! They’re playing Renaissance tracks!” You tug on his arm to no avail before running back to the floor like a fire lit under your ass. 

“She’s on the dance floor now,” Keigo sighs. “The girl is a fuckin’ wreck tonight.”

Dabi chuckles into the phone. “I’m guessing things didn’t go well with the bum she’s been laggin’ around?” It isn’t a secret that Dabi hates Rei’s guts too; he’s just more open about it because Dabi don’t give a fuck. 

“I’ll let her tell you, but to put it bluntly, yeah,” Keigo replies. “So now she’s here, single with her back and legs out.”

That back where he’d love to run his tongue down your spine, caressing the soft skin that contrasts with his own. And those legs that he wants wrapped tight around his waist as he strokes the gummy walls of your pussy, pushing you further into euphoria until you explode all over him. 

Dabi snorts to himself, finding Keigo’s dilemma funny. “So which do you want?” he asks. “The back or the legs?”

Keigo blushes red, glad for the dimness of the club. “Shut up,” he growls. “You know I’m seeing someone right now.”

Dabi scoffs at this, calling it bullshit as he usually does. “Someone you barely talk about and that I’m sure you barely think about. When the fuck are you gonna bite the bullet and stop beating around the bush with her, man?” 

Keigo pinches the bridge of his nose. He didn’t want a lecture. Not right now. “Dabi, you know better than anyone why I can’t do that. We’ve been friends since middle school. I can’t just tell her all of that shit. Plus, Y/N is in a vulnerable space right now. I’m just here to comfort her.” He would never forgive himself if he let his dirty thoughts make a horrible decision for him and possibly ruin your friendship. 

He looks at you now to ensure you’re okay, but is utterly confused and alarmed to find someone from the crowd watching you too. He wears a button-down that is way too tight for him and stands a good foot taller than Keigo. His eyes are lecherous and greedy as he watches you move to the music like water, your moves effortless and enchanting.

“Kei, you there?” Dabi asks. “Bitch, you’d better not have hung up on me.” 

Keigo doesn’t answer, too hyper-focused on the wolf stalking its prey. That prey being you, his beautiful best friend. Once he sees him move through the throng of people to get you, Keigo is bothered. "Hold up, Dabs. I’ve gotta go.” 

“Someone’s tryna shoot their shot at her, aren’t they?” Dabi asks, not even needing any confirmation. He just knows Keigo like that. “Send a picture to me when you’re done with ‘em.”

Keigo hangs up without replying and immediately stalks onto the dance floor. As he does, he watches the stranger brush your waist much to Keigo’s dislike. You jump and turn to him, looking alarmed despite his big grin. Your mouth moves to say something, probably a polite decline to his offer, but the stranger continues to push and even takes your hand in his. 

Keigo is seeing red. How dare he touch you? When he is finally a foot away from you is when he starts to hear your conversation in full. “C’mon, baby, what’s the problem?” the stranger asks, still wearing that stupid, predatory smile. “You’ve been dancing like you need something in you anyway!”

You glare at his nasty words, your hand balling into a fist. “I told you I’m not interested,” you snarl at him, yanking your hand free. “Leave me alone.” 

The fucker still doesn’t take that as an answer and continues to bother you, and Keigo. “Can’t I just get one dance?” he asks. He even pushes up on you, trying to take your hand again.

You’ve just about had it and roughly shove him back away from you. “I said leave me alone, asshole!” you snap at him, alarming the rest of the club hoppers surrounding you. The man’s face is written in annoyance before it morphs into a rage that is only caused by rejection. 

There is no doubt in Keigo’s mind that this man will possibly hurt you. He steps in before he can be proven right. “Hey,” he sternly says, his tone on the edge of a warning. He wedges himself between you and the man, his wings blocking you from his angered view. “She said to leave her alone. I suggest you listen.” 

The man’s eyes widen in recognition and then he begins to laugh. “You’re with him? Hawks?” He says it like he can’t believe it, even laughing to himself. “Shit, I didn’t know you were his already!” he guffaws despite your discomfort. He goes to pat Keigo on the arm but Keigo dodges his touch. “Hey, man, you’ve got a loyal bitch on your arm. You really must be paying good for that pussy.” 

That’s all it takes for Keigo to lose his cool. All self-control begins to unravel and he feels himself shifting from the cool, calm, and collected Hawks into someone else. Someone who is less willing to reason or let things go. His wings, glowing crimson red in the strobe lights, puff up and ruffle as if someone is running their hands through them and his eyes go dark.

You, the asshole, and every single witness surrounding him react with shared alarm, realizing that what may take place on the dance floor tonight won’t be a friendly dance battle. 

Keigo begins to close the gap between himself and the man until their noses are nearly brushing. The man is too afraid to move. “Listen, dickhead,” he growls, his voice dangerously low. “you caught me on a good night since a friend of mine just got married, but lemme give you some advice: you shouldn’t talk like that about people you don’t know, especially women. You best realize who the fuck you’re talking to.”

His feathers ruffle once more, making the man flinch. “I think you need to leave ‘cause you’re startin’ to really piss me off,” he whispers sinisterly. 

Before the man can reply, Keigo moves away and takes your hand in his, about to whisk you away from the BS. Whether he felt embarrassed and is trying to save face, or because he likes ruffling Keigo's feathers, the asshole speaks again. “I can see why you went for her in the first place,” he cackles. “I’d kill to take that body home with me.” 

Keigo stops, his body tense. Your hand grips his and he looks down at you, seeing how big your eyes are. ‘Don’t,’ they read.

He is willing to listen and let this shit go for you, until the dickhead opens his mouth yet again. “Just don’t let her out of your sight!” the man yells. "Bitches like her always go for the next dick.” 

Then all Keigo sees is red like a bull and goes haywire. He zooms past everyone and everything at the speed of light and is on top of the man immediately. The crowd shouts in shock and disperses as he lays one fist after another in the man's face, drawing blood from his lips and mouth. “Keigo!” you shout, your voice high and shrill with fear. “Keigo, stop it!” 

He ignores you, too focused on making the man feel pain for what the nasty things he said. For being disrespectful. “I just said to watch your fuckin’ mouth,” he snarls through gritted teeth. “You know who the fuck you’re talkin’ to? That’s my fuckin’ friend, you stupid bitch.”

His voice is low––lower than he’s ever heard it before. He doesn’t think he has ever been this angered before at anyone. But this asshole crossed the line. He doesn’t play about any of his friends, but especially you. You’re different. 

His fist continues to collide with the man’s nose again and again until he hears a crunching nose followed by a gurgle of pain. Blood splatters onto Keigo’s shirt but he doesn’t care. He can’t stop even if he wants to. It’s like a blood-thirsty switch has flipped inside of him. He suddenly feels your hands on his shoulders, yanking on him tightly. “Keigo, please stop!” you beg, trying in vain to pull him off. “Stop! You’re gonna kill him!” 

“What’s going on here?” a booming voice demands. Keigo is suddenly yanked off of the bloodied man by two large hands belonging to a security guard. He scowls at the asshole and Keigo, looking pissed that he has been bothered with this.

Keigo yanks himself out of his grasp and takes your side. “This prick was harassing my friend after she told him to leave her alone,” he growls, still staring at the asshole like he wasn’t finished with his face…and he wasn’t. 

Though the man is bleeding profusely from his nose and his busted lip, and his eyes are completely swollen, the guard is taking no mercy on anyone. “She can stay,” he says, nodding at you before scowling at Keigo and the man. “But you’re both gonna have to leave.” 

The man gapes at the guard, anger written across his busted face. “But he–” Before he can protest, the guard takes hold of him and practically drags him towards the exit. “Hey!” he shouts. “Get off of me! I have rights!”

His shouts fade into the music as he is swallowed by the crowd that now stare in utter shock at Keigo. His anger has now faded, replaced with a feeling of discomfort and exhaustion at being around so many people. 

He turns to you, grabbing your hand. “Come on,” he whispers, already pulling you off the dance floor and towards one of the exits. He pushes it open, leading you two out into the side valet where he is sure his car is. He lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding as he presses his back against the club wall, letting the cool air caress his sweaty skin. “A-Are you okay?” you suddenly softly stammer, as if afraid to speak. 

Realizing what just happened, he quickly returns his attention to you and ensures himself of your safety. “I should be askin’ you that,” he replies worriedly. “You alright? He didn’t hurt you?” You quickly shake your head, still looking shaken by the whole ordeal. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I almost lost it there.” 

Actually, he did lose it completely, but he didn’t kill the guy, thank God. He takes his hands in yours, squeezing them. “I just care a lot about you,” he softly confesses, not sure why he says it so secretively and blushes when he does.

Immediately, he releases your hands and adverts his gaze though you continue to stare at him. He feels as if you’re staring straight through him into his soul, examining all of his secrets and words left unsaid. 

“Kei…” Your words are soft, your name no more than a whisper on your lips. Keigo tenses, afraid of what may come next. However, nothing could possibly prepare him for what comes out of your pretty mouth next. 

You stand in the moonlight, looking like a damn Goddess that he almost forgets you’re you–his very best friend. “Do you wanna come swimming with me?” you softly ask, your words nearly getting swallowed up by the muffled music and Friday night traffic. 

But Keigo hears you loud and clear. And unbeknownst to you, you could’ve asked him to go to the goddamn moon with you, and he’d say yes. 

[invisibleraven]

"Just play along, please!" for Flynn/anyone.

"Hey baby."

Flynn groaned inwardly, and gulped back the last dregs of her martini before turning around to see the macho dudebro leering at her.

"Not interested."

"Now baby how can you say that, you haven't gotten to know me yet?" the guy said, a smirk playing over his lips, leaning against the wall as if trying to show off his biceps.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't care, I said no, so fuck off."

"One dance-or drink even, come on."

Flynn backed up, this guy was bigger than her-not hard given her diminutive status, but she also had left her killer stilettos at home tonight. Her eyes flitted over to the bouncer, but he was escorting a drunk from the bar-no help there. But she did see a group of friendly looking people and decided that this dudebro was only going to listen to one thing.

"Look, my guy is right over there, so fuck off before he notices you giving me trouble." With that she flipped her braids and stalked towards the bar, right towards where the group she spied before were sharing a laugh.

She went for the tall blond guy, standing close by, her voice low enough to not attract too much attention, but loud enough that he could hear her. "Look, that beefhead over there is not taking no for an answer, and I need a fake partner for a second. So can you just play along please?"

The guy looked at her very apologetically. "I am very gay."

"Me too!" Flynn replied with a smile. "But he seems the type to try to convert me, so I figured he'd respect your 'ownership' over my objection."

"Man guys suck," one of the other guys said-shaking his head so his long dark locks swayed with the movement. "We can help you out no problem. I'm Willie, and I can totes loan you my boyfriend Alex here."

Alex nodded, slinging an arm over her shoulder. "Us queers gotta stick together."

"Thanks," she said, sagging in relief. "I'm Flynn by the way."

Alex smiled, introducing her to the rest of his group-Luke, Julie, Reggie (who were the cutest throuple that totally didn't know they were one), and Carrie who was possibly the hottest girl Flynn had ever seen (and who was giving her a once over and a smirk that meant her night might include a number).

The meat head guy came over, snorting at the sight of her. "This is your guy? Baby you deserve a real man, lemme show you one."

"She's happy enough with me, thanks," Alex said, glaring at the other guy. Flynn laid her had over his chest, trying her best to look at Alex adoringly, paying this douche no mind. But her spine was still tensed, ready for any eventuality.

"Plus you're a bit outnumbered," Willie added. Luke and Reggie added their own menacing stares, with Julie and Carrie staring him down with unkind intent.

"Fine, not worth my time anyways," the guy said, stalking off, sure to harass some other woman on the floor.

Flynn sagged again. "Thank you all so much. Can I buy a round of drinks or something as thanks?"

"We were about to head out unfortunately," Alex said with a truly sorry look. "Head to Khaos."

"You're welcome to come with us, help sell your story," Willie offered.

"Plus it is way nicer than this place," Alex added.

"I DJ there from time to time, so I can probably get you all in without cover if you don't mind the seventh wheel," Flynn offered.

"Yes!" Reggie exclaimed. "Let's roll!"

Carrie walked side by side with Flynn. "And if you still wanna... I wouldn't turn down a drink."

Flynn grinned, linking pinkies with Carrie as they hit the cool night air. Sure the night had included a bad start, but it looked like it might have a much happier ending-in more ways than one!

[razorsadness]

Jessie Lynn McMains, from Reckless Chants #25: dear you (August 2019)

[text version under cut]

dear xxx—

David Berman is dead & I'm fucking sad. sad about Toni Morrison too of course but I already said my piece on that & anyway she was 88. David was only 52. not much older than my partner. & god damn it when you've lived a life like mine the words of white sadboy poet/singer-songwriters mean just as much to you as (if not in some ways more than) the greatest writers of our time, of any race or gender. cuz I grew up on that indie-punk shit. cuz I'm a sad whiteboy sometimes, too. cuz Toni Morrison was a great novelist but Silver Jews lyrics had more of an influence on my own writing.

like "We Are Real," where D.B. wrote:

Repair is the dream of the broken thing Like a message broadcast on an overpass All my favorite singers couldn't sing

like "Tennessee," when he sang:

Punk rock died when the first kid said "Punk's not dead, punk's not dead"

like how I cry harder when my punk/music icons die than I can imagine crying for almost any established writer. Lorna Doom died the day before Mary Oliver died, then the next day Debi Martini died & I was more brokenhearted about Lorna & Debi than Mary. cuz Mary was 83 & Lorna & Debi were younger. cuz it felt like I should tattoo Punk Is Dead on my forehead & slamdance on its grave. cuz Mary Oliver's poetry meant a lot to me but it didn't explode my fucking world like the Germs LP did. I don't know how to explain this. If you know, you know. David Berman died & I'm devastated.

I was devastated in December, when Pete Shelley died, & I'm still not over it if I think about it too much. I was in my car, on the way to pick my oldest kid up from school, & the DJ's voice on my favorite radio station broke thru my afternoon motion-induced reverie. breaking news; that's never good. Pete Shelley has died from a heart attack, he said, & played "Ever Fallen in Love." & I cried, of course I did. it hurt to lose one of punk's great songwriters, one of punk's great frontmen, who took his stage name from a Romantic poet & wrote songs that showed me it was okay to be myself, that there were other people out there like me. showed me it was okay to be a hypersexual bisexual, an "Orgasm Addict;" that I could be a punk & also be a hopelessly romantic lovesick dork. & it hurt to lose him because his kindness meant a lot to me when I was young—yeah, I knew Pete; we weren't close friends but we'd met, & he was sweet & funny & irreverent. I cried for him & I cried for the kid I was when I met him, the kid I was back when I first heard the Buzzcocks—back when I was a teenage misfit always falling in love with people I shouldn't have.

but the day after Pete died was Tom Waits' birthday, & I used it as an excuse to partake in some nostalgic pleasures; to be my old self if only for an hour or two. or as much my old self as I can still be. I went to the Douglas Avenue Diner for lunch, with my youngest kiddo as my date. I thought of xxx. I always miss her most in November & December. & diners make me think of her, & Tom Waits makes me think of her, & the death of old punks makes me think of her. everything reminds me of her. I thought of Hearts Don't Break, the novella I wrote in '02/'03, which was heavily based on our friendship; thought of my description of 'the coffee-stained comfort of our favorite diner.' different diner, different city, different year, but it was comforting to be there. they were playing Xmas carols & the patrons were an equal mix of punks & old folks. Greek-American-owned diners like Douglas Ave. make me the most nostalgic, as those are the diners I grew up going to—there are so many of them in the Midwest. I thought of the Alps East in Chicago, the diner I haunted as a broke college student; how I'd go there & order a cup of soup & a bottomless coffee & sit for hours eavesdropping on other patrons, getting ideas for short stories. I thought of the diners in Kenosha, going to them with xxxxx back when we were dating, sharing an order of spanikopita & a side of rice pilaf. after I left the diner that day, I mailed out a bunch of zines & chapbooks & that, too, was the same as it ever was.

& now another hero is dead & I'm finishing the first full issue of my zine in over two years, thinking about who I was back when I listened to the Silver Jews a lot. that terrible summer of '03, summer of nervous breakdowns & strep throat, too much rum & whiskey, & my lovers all dropping me. summer of pirates & pills; photocopied midnights. now it's the summer of '19 & I'm here writing & thinking of everything that's gone. favorite places, people, zines, scenes. I miss everything all the time. same as it ever was.

[pjisskullourful]

🆄🆂🅴 🅼🅴

🚬Ethan × reader

part 6/??? [parts1-5]

NSFW🚨 literally unsafe nastiness ° Ethan Torchio/female reader insert ✨ cameo by: Damiano David ° a vacation brings out a very different side of your boyfriend [based july 2023] wordcount:::  9,318 ° 🎧USE ME playlist to add to your reading experience ° as superbly prompted by @vittoriaisfuckingpathetic: a little scene where ethan and reader are hanging out [...] it's warm out and ethan isn't wearing a shirt. and the reader is just. is absolutely [...] thirsting over ethan's arms and chest (ethan is well aware of this, because he's purposefully making her hot and bothered all day) 💋 & commissioned by the legit badass that is my girl kat (@mistressofthecats-blog) 💋 [commissions are back! secure the 7th spot in my cue here!!]

° [ITA:] facile: simple - cazzo: fuck

You had no idea what time it was when you rolled over in the hotel bed, hesitantly cracking your eyes open. Your boyfriend was gone from the bed and the world of Ibiza was drenched in sunshine.

You were surprised that you didn’t feel worse - you had been expecting the wrath of all of those martinis and cocktails you’d consumed at the nightclub. But you were pleased to find yourself nausea-free. You were feeling fatigued and a little fuzzy in your head, but with enough coffee you would be able to make something of this day, the first day of your vacation.

You eased yourself out of the bed and started to look for Ethan. It didn’t take long for you to locate him, he hadn’t left the suite, taking up a seat on the attached balcony. Wrapped in a white bathrobe, he was taking his time to smoke a cigarette. You collected a pair of sunglasses from your handbag before even considering joining him.

He turned his head at the sound of the door sliding open and acknowledged you with a smile. “Hey, party girl.” You approached where he was seated. “I thought I would have to inject the espresso directly into your veins to get you out of bed.”

“What can I say? I like to be unpredictable.” You said as you draped your arms around him from where you stood beside his chair. You slipped your hands over the soft material covering his chest as you leaned down. You kissed him on top of the head and made to take the cigarette from between his fingers. He took evasive movements, preventing your theft. “How long have you been awake?”

“A bit under an hour.” He said after a quick look at the screen of his mobile phone.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Nope, should I get the room service menu?”

“Please.” You responded, prompting him to get up.

While he was inside, you took up the seat on the opposite side of the table. You plucked a cigarette out of the open packet and lit up. Then you tried to restore some order to your hair, using your fingers to comb through the strands that had been left loose all night. You were well on your way to feeling like a human again, dodging that zombie-state a hangover could bring out.

Picking from the menu, you each ordered breakfast. There was something in the way that he was looking at you that gave you pause. It was making you feel like you were being assessed, with him looking at you more seriously than the situation called for.

“You’re in a better mood this morning, hm?” He said, giving you a small insight into what he was thinking.

But it only served to confuse you. You cocked your head to one side as you had a drag of your cigarette. What was he comparing this mood to?

Because you had only been having fun on this trip so far. Last night had been an absolute blast, it had felt like the perfect way to kick off this vacation - to you, at least. Everyone had been all smiles as you toasted in the craziness of the active club.

Not all of your memories were crystal clear, but everything that you could recall was positive. You remembered Thomas’ dance moves dominating the dancefloor. You could remember Victoria invading the DJ booth, energetically bouncing as she played as many Lady Gaga tracks as you asked for.

You had been feeling victorious over how things were blooming between her and Tatianna. You and Ethan had included your friend on the group trip to fix her up with Victoria. And you had been thrilled to see sparks flying between the two women at the airport. Things had progressed and you had seen them sharing more than one kiss before the end of the night at the club. You had been immediately happy for them, and proud of your matchmaking skills, so that couldn’t be the source of the bad mood he was alluding to.

You had video evidence of him enjoying himself, without a single thing to worry him. At one point, you had spotted him and Damiano showing off some Vogue-style hand and arm choreography for one another. This unserious dance-off had been too cute for you to resist capturing it with your phone’s camera. The old friends had reminded you of two kids on the playground, laughing and play-swatting at each other.

Your picture of the night was one of no issues for either of you. You couldn’t understand where his perspective had come from at all.

“It’s good, I’m glad you’re leaving the brat in last night.” He said.

You leaned forward. “Brat?”

“Oh, come on, you remember. You weren’t that drunk when we got back here.” He said.

Before he could add any more details to this surprising account, he was interrupted by a knock on the door. He left his cigarette burning in the ashtray as he got up to answer it.

He had succeeded in shocking you. The end of the night had been so insignificant to you that you were genuinely stunned over him remembering it at all. There had been making out in the taxi and you had been feeling that it would lead to more when you got to the privacy of your room.

But that had gotten derailed once you were settling into your room. You had realised just how tired you were, how much the travel and clubbing had drained you. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to give him your best and you had told him as much, with more than a few sassy comments colouring your delivery. He hadn’t helped you out of your dress and when you had fallen asleep, it had been on your own side of the bed.

You were staring at him, slack-jawed as he wheeled the food cart out to the balcony. You didn’t pay any attention to the dishes and drinks.

“I can’t believe you just called me a brat.” You said.

He shrugged as he set your waffles down in front of you. “Well, don’t act like one and I won’t call you one. Facile.”

He returned to his seat, his bowl of yogurt and cup of coffee set up before him. He appeared entirely unbothered by the conversation. You could tell that he thought he had made a winning argument and this incensed you. You picked up a piece of strawberry from your plate and tossed it across the table, aiming for his face.

Instead it bounced off of his shoulder and he looked at you, eyebrows raised. “You didn’t want that one?”

“I am not a brat.” You said, determined to defend yourself.

“I don’t know how you think I should be reacting here, baby.” He said, folding his arms on the table instead of picking up the spoon. He was staring you down, potentially just as determined as you. “We got back to the room, I told you how ready I was to fool around, you turned around to get the lube, then all of a sudden you were having a hissy fit.

“You threw things- they’re still on the ground, by the way. You swore at everything.” He said and you clenched your jaw as you listened to his vivid recollection of what had been a non-event to you. “And what was it about? Face cream, fucking face cream. ‘Cause you forgot to pack the whole set, so you only have nine, instead of ten.

“And when I offered to help you look, you told me to go and fuck myself with something hard and sandpaper-y.” He said.

You had to bow your head in an effort to conceal the chuckles you felt rising up. You were a drama queen when drunk, but you were also really funny. You had a way with words, clearly having enough impact to stick in his mind.

“‘Cause that was the only way I was gonna get a fuck ‘cause you didn’t feel like it anymore, and-... are you- are you literally laughing right now?”

You raised your head, no longer trying to hide it. “It’s funny. It’s a funny thing to say, it’s poetic in its way. Obviously I wasn’t being serious. Aren’t you used to my bullshit by now? I blow off steam and I blow it off in a big, crazy, loud, swearing, stupid way. But then once it’s out of my system, it’s all over, all gone, the demon is exorcised and I move on. In the case of last night, I moved straight into sleep.”

“Yeah, without even cuddling me.” He pointed out.

“You could have spooned me if you were so desperate for cuddles.”

He picked up his coffee, but held off from having a sip. “Did you even put the fucking cream on your face before you went to sleep?”

This set you off laughing again, louder than before as you slumped back in your chair. “No. I was too out of it. I didn’t even take my makeup off, I just passed out.”

He shook his head, but you could see the beginnings of a smile on his face. “You’re hopeless. You know that, right? Absolutely hopeless.”

“Yeah, I’m an idiot.”

Now he was smirking. “And a brat.”

You picked up more pieces of strawberry to throw at him. “Stop calling me that. I had one bad moment. And I’m sorry, I’m sorry that it ruined your night, or whatever. But I’m only human, Ethan. I was fucking exhausted, drunk as Hell and frustrated, so I snapped.” You found a blueberry amongst the fruit that had come with your breakfast and you chucked this at him, managing to hit his forehead. “Are you gonna punish me all day over this?”

“Not at all. If you’re happy today, then so am I.” He said, the picture of serenity.

“Great. ‘Cause I wanna get back to enjoying my vacation.” You said. You picked up your fork and stabbed into some of the berries that remained on your plate. “I’ll clean up the mess that I made on my own and then we can just move on.”

“Sounds perfect to me.” He said. “I’m amazed that you’ve gone this long without checking your phone.” You looked up from your waffles, wondering what he was trying to start now. “I was thinking that you would be dying for updates from Tati.”

You shrugged as you chewed your food. “I’ll check it later.”

“Really? Wow. Last night all that you cared about was playing Cupid.” He said.

You showed him a wide smile. “‘Cause I’m so good at it.”

You were ready to get back to focusing on the positives. And it seemed that he was, too. Because there was no more name-calling and the two of you started to discuss how you would fit in with the group’s plan for the day. The rest of the fruit went into your mouth, instead of going hurtling through the air.

*** *** ***

You were by the side of the pool, set up on one of the lounge chairs. You had just finished up your conversation with Tatianna, getting all of the details (and then some) of how things had progressed with Victoria.

You had barely had enough time to take a sip of your iced coffee before you were being approached again. This time it was your boyfriend. Ethan had ditched his bathrobe, walking around in just his speedo. This was enough to get your eyes off of your friend and her new fling.

He came over to stand at your side. “You’re not busy, are you baby?”

A sarcastic quip popped into your head immediately, you didn’t even have to go looking for it. But you thought better of it before opening your mouth. Judging by everything he had said this morning, he’d had more than his fair share of your sarcasm and sassy comments.

So you pushed the thought away, showing him a smile instead. “I’ve got an abundance of time for you.”

“Cool. Can you help me apply this?” He asked, holding up a bottle of sunblock for you to see. “I know you hate the greasy feeling on your hands, but…”

“You need my help?” You asked as you registered this unexpected request.

“Please.” He said. “I did my face, but- it’s such a sunny day and there aren’t as many shade cloths around the pool as I thought there would be. I really don’t wanna get a burn.”

“Of course, sit down then.”

He handed the product over and sat down towards the end of the lounge, his back to you. You brushed the few strands of hair that had escaped his bun off the back of his neck and got to work applying the sunscreen.

You worked it across his muscular shoulders, then moved down his back. Concentrating on the task at hand, your eyes looked over the area your fingers were exploring, leading you to notice the complete lack of scratches on his back. It was a shame, like you were looking at an unfinished painting. Maybe if you’d had the stamina for sex last night, there could be fresh claw marks all over him.

You cleared your throat and tried to give yourself a distraction before your thoughts could go too far down the wrong paths. “Do you want the tea?”

He glanced over his shoulder at you. “I thought you got a coffee.”

“No, the tea on Tati.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.”

“They did.” You said of your friends’ sexual rendezvous.

“Nice. Good for them.” He said, making you laugh.

“Turn around.” You instructed.

He readjusted, now facing you for further application. “But seriously, good for Vic, I think they’re gonna be good for each other. Obviously Tati is great, a million times better than the last chick Vic was with.” He rolled his eyes just at the thought. “The definition of stuck up.”

You couldn’t help yourself, you were trying to behave - but rubbing the sunscreen into his pectorals presented too many temptations. You didn’t even check to see if anyone was looking, you just grabbed his nipples. Between each thumb and forefinger, you pinched them, a smile forming on your lips.

He gave a full-body flinch, leaning back and pushing you away at the same time. He furrowed his brow as you started to giggle. “What was that for?”

You pulled your sunglasses down a little, meeting his eye. “You don’t have to go in the pool if you wanna get wet.”

“Baby…” He said quietly. “If you’re feeling that way- you should have said something before we left the room.”

“I didn’t want to be antisocial. It’s a group trip, after all.”

“So, what’s different now?” He asked, his eyes darting around to make sure no one was about to catch you in this conversation.

“How about we get social with just each other?”

He got to his feet, putting some distance between you. “I should have known this would happen when I asked you for help.”

“Oh, are you disappointed in me now? Was this not your intention all along?” You asked. You were surprised when he didn’t immediately deny it, even more surprised when you saw the hints of a smile tugging at the side of his mouth. “Ethan?”

“No.” He said, but there was something off about his tone of voice. “As if.” You narrowed your eyes as you watched him, trying to figure out what he was playing at. “Don’t worry about the rest, really. I’ll do the rest of my tummy and my legs, since you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”

You watched his progress, all the while attempting to determine what he was up to. You were certain that something was afoot, but you were on the outside. What was he trying to accomplish, was there a point to getting you worked up over his body?

He finished applying the sunscreen to his exposed skin. “I would ask you to check if I missed any spots, but you would probably enjoy that an inappropriate amount.” He discarded the bottle onto the lounge next to yours, where his robe was already lying.

“You’ve sure got me all figured out, babe.” You said, unable to keep yourself from getting a little sarcastic with your delivery.

He blew you a kiss before turning away. Seconds later he was slipping into the crystal clear water. You pushed your sunglasses back up the bridge of your nose and had a sip of your iced coffee, biting down on the straw a little.

You reclined back in the chair, but you weren’t feeling very relaxed. You rubbed your hands on your legs, trying to get rid of the unpleasant residue left by the sunscreen.

All the while, you were watching Ethan. Thanks to the side of the pool, you couldn’t see much of him, just his head that bobbed with the flow of the water. He appeared innocent enough as he chatted with Thomas and his girlfriend.

Sooner or later, you would get to the bottom of whatever your boyfriend was plotting.

You moved your attention to your phone, replying to a message from Nico. You looked through the group chat that was made up of your co-workers, but you didn’t find anything worth responding to. Then you started scrolling through social media.

When that got old, you pulled a magazine out of your handbag. You flicked it open, but you felt no motivation to start reading. Nothing in Kerrang could drag your attention away from Ethan.

For whatever reason, your boyfriend wanted you to take notice of him and you couldn’t help doing just that.

One thing that you took notice of was that he seemed to be spending only a small amount of time actually in the pool. While still talking to Thomas and his girlfriend, Ethan had boosted himself out, sitting on the lip of the pool. He had looked back, checking up on you.

When the couple split off, he had seemed like he was going to swim properly, pushing off from the wall, but only after glancing at you again. But he only swam to the other side of the pool, using his arms to lift himself out. He seemed to move in slow-motion. This action wasn’t complete without another glance in your direction.

Then he was just wandering around the area that surrounded the pool, stopping to talk to so many of the friends that had come to Ibiza - never leaving your line of sight. He was doing a lot of unnecessary stretching. You would read one sentence of your article, then look up to spot him flexing one muscle or another.

Was he on the verge of running a marathon, what was the point of him getting so limber? And why couldn’t you stop watching?

He was clearly teasing you. Was he getting you wound up simply because he could? Was it all just for his amusement? You hadn’t planned on spending the day getting hot and bothered over him, but he knew that it didn’t take much to get you into such a headspace. You only hoped that his plan included some kind of pay-off for you.

Or else you would have to come up with a plan of your own.

Also in your line of sight were Thomas and his girlfriend, treading water very close together. They were sharing a lot of kisses and even when you weren’t watching, you could hear her flirtatious laughter as they got lost in their own world.

Elsewhere, Tatianna and Victoria were looking very cosy together. In the shade, they were sharing a love seat. Tatianna had her head rested in Victoria’s lap as Victoria slowly ran her fingers through her new companion’s hair. They were doing a lot of laughing as well.

At present, you weren’t feeling much happiness towards your friend and the connection she was exploring. Instead you were hung up on your own jealousy. You were bitter over not having your person to be similarly horny with - Hell, you would have settled for just being cute with Ethan at this point.

You were glad for the distraction of Damiano headed your way. He was very late in joining the group and he didn’t instantly strive to be the centre of attention, just quietly taking up the seat beside yours.

“How are you the last one to arrive when you literally had no booze last night?” You asked teasingly.

He smiled sheepishly. “I got lost in the gift shop.”

“Oh, cazzo…”

“No, no, it’s totally not that bad. There’s still gifts left in that shop, on God.” He said. “I had to go in to get my grandma a souvenir magnet.”

“Okay, that’s adorable.”

As you were trying to give him all of your attention, Ethan wandered back into your field of vision. You didn’t even have to turn your head, still facing Damiano even though you couldn’t help watching Ethan. He seemed to have found the perfect spot and he sat down, ass on the tiles as he dangled his legs into the water. He leaned back, bracing himself with his hands on the ground behind him as the sun’s rays beat down on his bare chest.

“Yeah, it’s like a little family tradition. If you go somewhere new, you’ve gotta buy a magnet with the name of the place on it for grandma.” Damiano was saying and you dragged your eyes back over to him. “Because she had this huge collection from all the places she’s been, back when she was travelling all the time, before grandpa got sick.”

“You are so damn wholesome.” You said.

“And I got some bits and pieces for other people, as well.” He said. “And then I had to find the right place for dinner tonight.”

He explained to you that this was no easy feat - not with a group of this size. He had to find something within a reasonable distance of the hotel, someplace that could meet everyone’s dietary requirements. The restaurant’s menu needed to have at least one dish that could meet the standards of the group’s fussiest eater, which was Victoria.

On his mobile phone, he showed you the menu. But these dishes held very little significance for you. This was the same case with the words he was saying.

You knew that it was rude. You were also aware that a large quantity of women would do literally anything to get to share a conversation with him.

But you couldn’t help yourself, your eyes were back on your boyfriend. Your mind was wandering, looking at all that was so purposefully on display was inspiring memories to pop into your head. They were rushing at you, and soon you were imagining what it would be like to go further than you had in those past experiences. These thoughts had a temperature to them and your mouth rested open.

Damiano cleared his throat. “Look, I’m trying to not take this personally, ‘cause I get that you’re probably hungover. But are you listening to a single word that I’m saying?”

“What? Yeah, of course I am. The restaurant looks great.” You tried your best to recover, training your eyes back on him. “So, did you have fun last night?”

It didn’t take long for your attention to be captured by Ethan once again. Movement caught your eye, alerting you to the fact that he was retying his hair.

Something so mundane, you had seen him complete this action thousands of times. But right now it was utterly fascinating to you, too fascinating for you to do anything but watch.

With his arms raised and his hands in motion, you tracked how all of those toned muscles worked together. You noticed every single flex and got hungry for him to let you feel his power. Having him use his strength against you felt like the most worthwhile way to be spending your time currently.

Behind your sunglasses, your eyes moved down to his nipples and you thought about pinching them again. But you wouldn’t be giggling this time around. This time would be for real, you wanted to know how he would respond. You wondered how the expression on his face would alter.

It was the thought about what he would do to you in retaliation that got your heart beating faster.

And this was probably exactly what he wanted, which was a frustrating outcome. As he finished fixing the hair elastic into place around his bun, he looked directly at you.

And there was a smile on his face - it was small, but it was there, a departure from his typical ‘resting business-meeting face’ that earned him such teasing. With no one else closeby, it was quite clear what he was smiling about. He was smug, most likely congratulating himself on getting you all hot and bothered.

“Ethan should be in jail.” You blurted it out carelessly.

You saw Damiano visibly flinch at your exaggerated statement. “Fucking Hell. What kind of feral shit were you two freaks doing to each other last night?”

You shook your head, dismissing the misinterpretation. “No, nothing like that. But just look at him- don’t you agree that he’s a menace to society?”

“I mean, I guess.” Damiano didn’t sound very convinced. He didn’t see it the same as you, he hadn’t been victim to Ethan’s obnoxious flaunting before.

It was a while later when Ethan approached you, putting an end to your solitude. Your eyes moved up-and-down his body, because your mind was still full of depraved thoughts.

“Hey creep, is your magazine a good read?” He asked.

You readjusted in your chair and took a cursory glance at the pages you were currently open to. “Uh-huh, very interesting.”

“Awesome.” He sat down on the chair next to yours. “I’m guessing that Damiano told you about the dinner plans for tonight.” You nodded your head and plucked up your handbag, shoving your mobile phone inside. “And he told you what time the reservation is for…” You returned your magazine to the bag, then turned yourself around to place your feet on the ground. “So you’ll know when you have to be ready.”

You stood up. “Yeah, Damiano made sure I knew all that. But it doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t?” He repeated, his brow furrowed as you took your first step. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not going to dinner.” You said, starting to walk in the direction of the pool area’s exit.

He quickly followed along. “How come? Is something wrong?”

“No, not at all.” You said, pleased with yourself in this moment. “I’m just gonna be too busy to go.”

“Busy, with what exactly?”

You made sure there was a wall between you and everyone at the pool before you stopped walking. “Fucking my boyfriend.”

He stood opposite you, rolling his eyes as he scoffed. “Fucking… because that’s your…”

While he was still talking, you put your hands to the hem of your blouse. You lifted the material and his words were halted by you exposing your bare breasts to him. Instantly his wide eyes were taking in this sight and you were feeling like you had beat him - whatever game he had been playing was now over.

You let the shirt fall back down so that you could grab his hand with yours, he was still silent, but you weren’t.

“Let’s go.” You said, beginning to lead him back up to your suite.

*** *** ***

You acted upon your eagerness before you were back to the privacy of your suite. These impulses had been gaining power for hours and you were done with holding back.

Once you were alone in the elevator, you launched yourself at him. As you shared breathless kisses, your hands had grabbed for his hair, your fingers seeking to get rid of the hair-tie. Once it was free, you wrapped the long hair around your fingers and he was holding you to his body.

You barely heard the elevator’s automated ding to signal that you had reached your level. He grabbed your hand and led the way to your door. You were grinning as you kept up with him, ecstatic that the two of you were finally on the same page.

But when the door of your suite was shut, his demeanour changed. You moved to stand in front of him (intending to secure more kisses) and found a different look on his face. His eyes were no longer wide and now he wore an expression of annoyance - not unlike how he had looked when ranting at you at the start of the day. It shifted the atmosphere and you were stopped in your tracks from getting another kiss.

“Get on your knees.” He said it without any kindness, far too firm for it to be mistaken as a request.

But you were too surprised to be able to do anything at first, so startled that you could have laughed. “What are-?”

Your words were halted when he placed both of his hands on your shoulders. He didn’t have to tell you what he was talking about when he could so easily just show you. He pushed down and you went with this movement, bending your knees. You lowered yourself to the carpeted floor, tilting your head back so that you could keep your eyes on his serious face.

“I guess you don’t feel like saying please.” You said as his stony exterior stirred something inside of you.

“I guess I don’t feel like dealing with anymore fuckin’ attitude out of you.” He said, prompting you to open your mouth because you were ready with your reply. You were ready to defend yourself, and argue if you had to. You were going to remind him of the outcome of this morning’s discussion - that he was going to be happy if you were. And you hadn’t done anything worthy of being called a brat today.

But before you could breathe a single syllable, he was snapping his fingers, surprising you again. Your mouth hung open as you stared at him.

“I’m gonna teach you a lesson about how sometimes you go too far with your attitude and it’s not the kind of thing that I’m just gonna let fly.” He said.

You found that any argumentative things to say were floating out of your head. Instead you were taking in his position of authority. You weren’t accustomed to carrying yourself like a submissive, but the way he was acting impressed upon you that it would be correct to behave as such.

Everything that you had anticipated for this afternoon was swiftly flying out the window.

But you had no motivation to resist this altered dynamic. You didn’t dislike how small you felt in this moment, positioned at his feet. You were granted a view of his body that differed from the typical, and the curves of his muscles were more defined - inviting you to stare more. It prompted more admiration, encouraging you to feel small in comparison. You registered the fact that he had all of the power, and you had none.

“Are you ready to learn your lesson?” He asked of you.

There was no fight or sass in you, all that you wanted to do was consent. “Yes.”

“Then you can stand up.”

You were already feeling a little shaky as you got to your feet, ready to be blown away by him.

His hands returned to your body, grabbing you by the biceps. You saw his jaw clench, that displeased look remaining. He pushed you backwards and you were trying to not lose your balance as he started walking forward, moving you in his momentum. Until your back reached the wall. You were pressed into the wall with him leaning in, filling your personal space. And you welcomed it, licking your lips as you tilted your head in anticipation of getting a kiss.

Before this could happen, you were being spun around. He moved too quickly for you to keep up and before you knew what was going on, your front was being shoved to the wall. Your heart was pounding, this was more than you could have imagined and your thighs were twitching.

“You want me to kiss you, is that what you want, baby?” He asked, and there was something about hearing him taunt that made you want to melt. “Because if that’s how you want it, just say. And we can kiss and have all of the eye-contact and I’ll give you everything you want.” Another shove got your face closer to the wall. “But I could have sworn that you said you were ready to learn your lesson.”

“I am ready.” You said.

“You’re definitely not ready.”

Before you could even start asserting your willingness to do all of this, he interrupted your thoughts by grabbing for the fly of your denim shorts. He unbuttoned them, swiftly pulling the zipper down. With them loosened he could tug them down, yanking until they were tumbling, falling down to the ground.

Then his hands went to your panties and he grabbed two fistfuls of the thin material (which was no longer dry). You expected these to be pulled down too. Instead he moved his fists in opposite directions, stretching the material to its absolute limit. Until you were hearing the lingerie rip, falling limp onto your skin. You gasped and it felt like there was fire coursing through your veins.

Slap. The sound of his open hand striking your bare butt seemed to echo in the otherwise-silent room.

You felt the stinging follow-up to this strike so much deeper than the surface. It rattled through you, the powerful action demanding a powerful response. Your heart skipped over a few beats as you settled into the fact that you had no idea what was going to happen next.

You were yanked away from the wall, feeling as weightless as a ragdoll when he swept you up into his arms. With the side of your body pressed to him, your feet were taken from the ground.

“You can say stop at any time, okay?” He told you, the harsh edge taken out of his tone briefly.

“Okay.” You repeated without any real intention of interrupting him with that mood-killer of a word.

Aside from showing you this small mercy, he wasn’t done with laying down the law and you soon found yourself being tossed onto the unmade bed. You landed on your chest and didn’t instantly roll over to look at him, or seek a more comfortable position. Instead, with your thoughts racing, you waited for his guidance on what came next.

This came in the form of him climbing onto the bed alongside you. He wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, applying enough pressure to keep you from raising your head.

You could get yourself free if you truly wanted to. It wouldn’t take all of your strength and you could execute it in about three moves.

But that didn’t interest you at all. You were savouring how it felt to be at his mercy. It was so arousing to know how little he was holding back. You wanted to know all of the desires that had prompted this change in him, you wanted to experience them all.

His free hand was used to smack one of your ass cheeks. Your breath got caught in your throat because this was the hardest he had ever spanked you. Immediately it set the tone, another sign of how he wasn’t holding back. This wasn’t going to be like any past spankings, it wasn’t part of a seduction or to tease you into getting hornier. There was no playfulness in how he wanted to make his point.

Your other cheek was treated to its own equally hard smack. You squeezed your eyes shut and your heart was beating harder with each passing second.

You were still feeling the effects of the second spank when the third landed upon your butt. Blood was rushing to this area, his hands leaving behind pink marks, which were only going to get brighter.

You couldn’t hold back the moan that came in response to the fourth spank. The intensity was so much, building up a pressure that dominated your thoughts, demanding that nothing else be thought of.

He took his hand off of your neck, using it to grab a section of your hair. He tugged, prompting you to lift your head from the sheets. “Did you say something, babe?”

“Nope.” You quickly responded.

“Good, because I-” He struck your ass. “-am not-” You experienced another slap. “-done.”

He released your hair and shoved you back down to the mattress. You arched your back, showing your willingness by presenting your butt to him. You were soon feeling the seventh spank. You audibly gasped, your toes curling a little.

“I’m a fan of these noises you’re making.” He said, during the fragile calm between spanks. “You wanna make some more for me?”

You turned your head, resting your cheek on the covers. “Yes.”

From your current viewpoint you couldn’t look at him properly. Mostly you could see the arm that was keeping you held down, the muscles tensed as he exerted his control. You wondered if he was erect by now, or was it just you getting all worked up?

You smiled when you felt the next spank, letting out a loud whimper as more of your body responded to this. You licked your lips, you had decided that the way your skin was stinging felt good. You were starting to hope for him to hit you hard enough to make you feel it each time you sat down tomorrow.

Your pussy was throbbing as he landed a sharp slap onto each cheek. You whined loudly for him. Feeling the absence of any shame, you were prepared to get even louder for him. He had moved you into the mindset that you would do whatever it took.

“Does that hurt?” He asked as you were waiting for the next spank to come.

“I can take it.” You said, giving your sore ass a quick wiggle.

“Still so confident.”

You continued to wait for the thrill of another spank, unwilling to catch your breath. Instead you felt him moving around the bed and his hand left the back of your neck.

From his new position, he reached a hand under your body. You hadn’t been given any kind of guidance to move, so you were still as you observed what he was doing. The palm of his hand faced upwards as he slid his hand down to your crotch.

Your heart leapt when his finger moved between your labia majora, making contact with your clitoral hood. You were already so turned on that you were instantly sensitive to the touch.

“Oh.” He said and you were biting into your bottom lip. “I can’t even pretend to be surprised that you’re this wet.”

You hummed in response, delighted by the way he had started to rub you. You shut your eyes and sank into this treatment, not bothering to question his motives.

Remaining face-down, you felt the potential of melting at his touch. He worked his finger in little circles over the hood with the perfect amount of pressure. You whimpered again, hoping this was to his liking as you indulged in this wonderful stimulation.

But before he could take you up to that next, blissful level he was taking his hand away. You froze, too caught off-guard to know what to do.

Your mouth hung open as you waited, absolutely yearning for more. He didn’t provide it, pulling his hand out from underneath you, then you were feeling the mattress shift as he got up. You were too stunned to give him any attitude about this, silently turning your head so you could watch him. He was calmly walking across the floor, going over to shut the curtains (which you hadn’t noticed until this moment).

The suite got darker, but you could still see him as he slid his swimwear off. You saw how his erect cock pointed out directly in front of him, now that it was freed. You couldn’t help squirming a little as he came back over to the mattress.

Instead of progressing and climbing on top of you, he resumed his spot sitting next to you. You grabbed for handfuls of the bedsheets as you anticipated what he would do next. You knew exactly what you wanted (the picture was so clear in your head), but you also knew that you were in no position to lay out any kind of demands of him.

He slid his hand under your body, touching your clitoris again. It pulsed against his finger as he gave you more of that Heavenly pressure. There was so much heat pooling in your cunt, which started to spread as he stroked the moist bud up-and-down. It didn’t take long for you to start making more noises for him.

These excited moans and whines were muffled when his available hand went to the back of your head, turning it, then pushing your face back into the mattress. You didn’t object, you just concentrated on how good his consistent stroking felt.

You quivered against the mattress as you giddily explored more of this pleasure. You weren’t thinking about your sore ass as your fists shook around the sheets, getting taken away from every other part of your experience.

This moment seemed to stretch out and you weren’t sure how much time was passing as he went on manipulating your clitoral hood. Even though you were hungering for more than this, you kept your greediness to yourself. Because the way that his finger worked over the slicked peak did feel really good - it was turning your legs to jelly and it was better than getting nothing from him. It was best to not push your luck with him right now.

It felt like he was settling into a promising rhythm when he stopped, pulling away a second time. Your fists continued to shake as you tried to catch your breath.

You gave your feet a little kick as the frustration rushed into you. You had to fight for it to not get the better of you, because all that you wanted to do was swear (maybe raise your voice a little). But that was the opposite of the behaviour he was currently seeking, and you had dedicated yourself to doing whatever it took. And what it took was putting up with this teasing.

He got up for a second time, but you didn’t watch what he was doing beyond the bed. You heard movements but you were concentrating on taking deep breaths, trying to find a way to tap back into your patience.

You caught your first whiff of cigarette smoke, then a second later, the mattress was shifting under his weight when he returned.

He started to slide his hand under you, resuming that spot at your pussy. Your breath came in quicker at the feel of his touch on your clitoral hood.

“Do you like that?” He asked, working his finger in circles. “Is this the attention you’ve been dying for all day?”

You squirmed with a whimper. “Fuck yes.”

You sank into the pleasure even more, obsessed with every masterful swirl of his finger. Your eyes were shut as you stopped caring about trying to predict when he would stop next, just focused on the heat that this treatment sent pumping through your body. You fell for the teasing, fell for it unashamedly.

The pressure from his finger increased, sparking more excitement from you. You put the energy buzzing inside of you to use, starting to work your hips in the interest of more pressure. You rocked your hips, trying to match his tempo as the possibility of him stopping floated out of your head. Instead you were letting the sensations build, anticipating how they could ruin you.

The smell of cigarette smoke was coming in stronger as all of your senses feasted on this moment. He was still stroking you to perfection and you made sure to keep moaning for him.

You weren’t close - more so on the path to getting close. But the disappointment was present all the same when he stopped yet again. You lamented the loss of this momentum with a whine.

“Don’t worry babe, I am going to fuck you.” He said, drawing his hand out from underneath you. “But first you’ve gotta clean your horny mess off of my hand.”

“Okay.” You said, turning your head.

He shoved his hand into your face and obediently you opened your mouth - even though there was something else you would rather be sucking on. He placed two of his fingers between your lips and you began rubbing your tongue against them, collecting the accumulated moisture. You felt somewhat dazed as you looked at him, it seemed like it had been hours since you had properly looked at him. As he exhaled a cloud of smoke, you thought that he appeared slightly bored.

He pulled his hand back, a string of saliva falling from your lip. In a flash, he was moving again. He sprang up onto his knees and moved into the space behind you. Before you had the time to glance back at him, he was prompting movement from you as well, his hands going to your hips. He pulled them up and you walked your knees forward, lifting your ass into the air.

Your head remained resting on the mattress while you braced yourself with your knees set up beneath you. He got himself lined up with you, his knees close to yours. He stayed upright as he got even closer. You arched your back, incredibly keen for him to finally do away with the dreadful distance between the two of you.

“Put your hands behind your back.” He ordered.

There were tremors in your hands as you lifted them up, crossing one wrist over the other at the small of your back. Instantly he grabbed for this, wrapping his fingers around your wrists. It was just another way for him to exert his power over you, and you gave into it, you were more than ready to lose control.

He began to lean into you, his hips meeting your butt before you felt his dick at your pussy. Instead of delving inside of you, he pushed forward, his shaft rubbing against your labia majora. His dick was smeared with your wetness as he stroked himself back-and-forth in this area. You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting back the urge to complain over how you definitely didn’t need any further warming up.

You were still waiting for penetration when he startled you with a spank to your raised ass. You could have screamed.

But you were swiftly forgetting about the pain, distracted by the sensation of him starting to bury himself inside of your pussy. Your gut tightened and for a second you forgot to breathe. He was seemingly done with making you wait, pushing his hips forward to fill as much of you as quickly as he could. You welcomed it, feeling a glimmer of relief.

You were given a moment to adjust as he leisurely took a drag from his cigarette. You heard him exhale deeply while your own breathing remained shallow.

Your body was already overly-sensitive when he started to work his hips at a quick pace. It was instantly exciting, at the threshold of what you could take. It was an effort for you to get yourself meeting his thrusts, trying to catch up with him.

You greeted almost every powerful thrust with a whimper. These vocalisations got louder when he pulled your face out of the covers, grabbing and tugging on your hair. Your desperate noises accompanied the consistent slapping of skin-on-skin as his pacing persisted, unfailing.

Your hands uselessly curled into fists and you wished you had the sheets to grip onto. At the same time, your walls were clenching around him, greedy in a way that you had no power over. You could feel yourself getting closer.

His hand pulled at your hair, bringing your head further back. Then he released the strands and repositioned to grab your throat, holding it securely. A new wave of pleasure rushed you as your ability to breathe became a little restricted.

And he wasn’t letting go, his fingers holding steady as you felt the slight pressure on your windpipe. Your mouth opened as he kept pounding you, so intent on destroying you. Your tongue slithered down, seeking out where his thumb was resting against your face.

“Oh, my God…” You rasped before you wrapped your lips around the tip of his thumb.

When his next jerk into you brought him deeper, colliding with your sweet spot, your eyes rolled up. Your breathing halted and your long-bullied composure was facing a very powerful threat. It wanted to shatter, poised to burst inside of you as the pleasure kept rising.

But would he allow that? You weren’t confident that you had enough strength left to do what it took to be obedient.

“I need to…” Your words came out in a choked sob.

His fingers loosened on your neck. “Sorry, you need to breathe?”

“No.” You said and if your hands were free, you would have pushed him back to choking you. “Need to come, fuckin’ Hell, baby.”

His concern disappeared just as fast as it had presented itself and he was back to working you over at full-force. His hand resumed its squeeze on your neck, the other still locked around your wrists. “Should I let you? Hm, do I need to let you come?”

“Oh, Ethan…” You whimpered pathetically. “Please.”

“Yes, beg me just like that.”

“Please. Pleasepleaseplease, please, please.” You rushed to say them all, stopping when you ran out of breath. You inhaled and pleaded more, your voice wanting to fail you as your effort went to keeping your body in motion with his. “Please Ethan…”

You were quaking as your body lingered at that intimidating edge. You squirmed into his jackhammering, the pleasure and the tension were an incomprehensible force inside of you. You sputtered out more pleas, existing only in this state of desperation.

It was past the point of too much and you screamed when he let go of your wrists so that he could slap you on the ass. Your body seized, unable to figure out what to do with the surprise.

“Come then, you brat.” He instructed.

You let the relief burst into you, thoroughly falling apart at the next collision of his tip at your sweet spot. Spasming, your pussy gushed out all of the pent-up desire and you forgot yourself.

The overdue climax made you go limp, your body slightly lowering towards the mattress. You cupped your burning hot face in your hands and your mind felt like a plate of scrambled eggs. You fell out of his reckless pacing.

You flinched, screaming a little when his hand fell to your ass for more spanking. In a whole new way, you were ridiculously weak compared to him.

“Don’t quit on me yet.” He growled.

You had absolutely no response to this as you were close to being overwhelmed by the friction created by his continuous fucking. You felt like you were going to melt into a puddle, so far past the point of coming as his dick throbbed inside of you.

But your state wasn’t the priority. Your job was to make it easy for him to use you. Your knees were wobbly but you kept them planted on the bed, conscious of keeping your butt raised for him. You wanted to crumple, but you didn’t, you put your effort into receiving each of his impassioned pumps.

Until it was enough, until the squeezing of your pussy milked his release out of him. Moving unpredictably, he started to unload into you, moaning as he filled your cunt with a new heat.

His hands relaxed on you as he lazily grinded into you to finish himself off. You bowed your head down to the bed, shutting your eyes as you were ready to drift off to the sound of him gasping your name, amongst other curse words.

You were grateful to finally get to lie down, moving your head to the pillow as you started to catch your breath. The scent of his cigarette swarmed into your nostrils.

He landed onto the mattress next to you, the harshness taken out of his words when he spoke. “You okay, creep?”

You opened your eyes a little, finding him lying on his back beside you. You smiled, still feeling the giddy affects of your afterglow. “I’m great. I’d be even better with a cigarette in hand, but I’ll survive.”

He lifted himself up so that he could kiss you before he got out of the bed. You rolled onto your side, planning to fall asleep before bothering to get up like him. Your eyes drifted over to the drawn curtains and you noticed that there wasn’t the same glare of sunlight pushing in around the edges, apparently the sun had begun to set.

He wandered back into your line of sight, an unlit cigarette and one of your lighters in hand. He joined you on the bed, handing these items to you.

You placed the fresh cigarette between your lips, surveying him as you ignited the lighter. “So you got all of that out of your system, eh?”

He smiled. “To tell the truth, I wasn’t particularly mad about the whole thing. Your tantrum was annoying, a really shitty note to end the night on- but mostly, I wanted to get back at you for all of that attitude.”

You raised your head from the pillow, you were feeling some of your energy come back. “You weren’t that mad, are you seri-...? I’d hate to get you actually mad, then you might reach all new levels of obnoxiousness.”

He feigned surprise, wide-eyed. “Obnoxious? I would never.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a drag of your cigarette. “Oh yes you would. You were being the most teasing son of a bitch that’s ever existed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much unnecessary titty-flexing in my whole life.”

“Well you’re the idiot that fell for the world’s most teasing son of a bitch.” He said, leaning in to place a kiss on your lips.

“Yep, that was a big-time idiot move.” You said in response to the smug look on his face.

He ran his fingers tenderly up-and-down the side of your neck. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Nope, not at all. I really liked it.”

“Yeah, I could feel how much you were enjoying that part.” He said, securing another kiss. “Maybe I should do that more…” He kissed you deeply and you draped an arm around his neck as your body naturally turned towards his.

You lightly sucked on his lower lip before allowing the kiss to be broken. “When are you gonna ask if my ass is hurting?”

“Right now.” He said, trailing his fingertips down your spine. “Did I hurt that fine ass?”

“A little, you gonna kiss it better?” You teased.

“Dream on, creep.” He said. “I love you.”

You tightened your arm around him, wanting him closer. “I love you too.” You hesitated before kissing him, your mouths inches apart. “Obnoxious son of a bitch.”

“Yeah, but I’m your obnoxious son of a bitch.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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