#good call past me. good lookin out

[coquelicoq]

Tom aussi était seul, mais pas de la même manière. Il s'était assis à califourchon et il s'était mis à regarder le banc avec une espèce de sourire, il avait l'air étonné. Il avança la main et toucha le bois avec précaution, comme s'il avait peur de casser quelque chose, ensuite il retira vivement sa main et frissonna. Je ne me serais pas amusé à toucher le banc, si j'avais été Tom ; c'était encore de la comédie d'Irlandais, mais je trouvais aussi que les objets avaient un drôle d'air : ils étaient plus effacés, moins denses qu'à l'ordinaire. Il suffisait que je regarde le banc, la lampe, le tas de poussier, pour que je sente que j'allais mourir. Naturellement, je ne pouvais pas clairement penser ma mort, mais je la voyais partout, sur les choses, dans la façon dont les choses avaient reculé et se tenaient à distance, discrètement, comme des gens qui parlent bas au chevet d'un mourant. C'était sa mort que Tom venait de toucher sur le banc.

"Le mur", Jean-Paul Sartre

[bigmeansweatydyke]

the long-ago aforementioned cool bi girl turned wannabe cathtradwife friend is currently getting flamed on facebook by friend and acquaintances. karma's a bitch ya shoulda known betta

[incognit0slut]

Tempting the Cowboy

Summary: The team has been trying to bring Spencer back to the BAU after he hung up his badge to live on his ranch peacefully. It’s a good thing you’ll do whatever it takes to persuade him, even if the rugged cowboy wants to bend you over in the barn.

warnings: (MDNI, 18+) softdom spence, nipple play, handjob, fingering, female and male oral, semi-public sex

word count: 6k (i had too much fun, okay?)

a/n: This is such a random plot. Cowboy spence seemed so impossible, but then again, so did prison reid and look what happened.

Never in a million years would you ever have thought that a certified genius with an IQ of 187, after fifteen years of dedicated service to the FBI, would change career paths and settle down in the countryside. Yet here you were, driving to the middle of nowhere, trying to find that man.

The GPS led you down dusty backroads, past fields of golden wheat and weathered barns until finally, you arrived at his ranch. The scent of hay and the distant sound of cattle filled the air as you stepped out of the car and you couldn't help but feel out of place.

Your usual black pants and fitted blouse seemed like a striking contrast to your surroundings, especially with the sleek boots on your feet. Adjusting your shirt, you finally approached the farmhouse, the gravel crunch beneath your feet echoed with every step you took.

A group of men caught your eyes as they emerged from a weathered barn at the end of the road, and you found yourself approaching them instead. Clearing your throat, you called out to them.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," you began, "I'm looking for Spencer Reid. Is he around?"

The men exchanged knowing glances before one of them, a weathered cowboy with a straw hat shading his face, spoke up.

"You must be lookin' for the doc," he said, nodding towards the stable. "He's over there tendin' to the horses. You can't miss 'im."

With a grateful nod, you followed their directions. Nerves fluttered in your stomach as you walked into the stable, unsure of what to expect from the man who had once been your colleague but now seemed like a stranger in this unfamiliar setting.

As you pushed open the creaking door, the scent of leather and hay washed over you. Inside, you finally spotted him, his back turned as he tended to a horse in the corner of the room. His familiar profile was a stark contrast to the rugged surroundings, and for a moment, it felt surreal to see him in this new role.

Gone were the suits or knitted cardigans; instead, he was clad in well-worn denim and leather that gave him a distinctly different, yet undeniably attractive appearance. His sleeves were rolled up, showcasing the definition in his arms and a cowboy hat was perched on his head, its brim casting a shadow over his features, while his tousled hair peeked out from beneath it.

It was a side of him you had never seen before—one that seemed more at peace, more connected to the land than the city. And as you watched him work, the soft murmur of his voice filling the room as he spoke soothingly to the horse he was gently brushing, you couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt knowing you were going to ruin his peace.

As if sensing another presence in the room, he suddenly turned his head before his gaze fell on you. A genuine smile curled at the corner of your lips as you approached him. "Howdy, cowboy."

A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes as he straightened himself, which was quickly replaced with realization at your sudden visit.

"I was wondering when they'd send you here," he remarked, his tone a mixture of amusement and resignation. You returned his smile, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly at his familiar demeanor.

"I guess today is your lucky day." Your eyes scanned the rustic surroundings of his ranch, taking in the simplicity of his new life. "Well, this is quite the change of scenery."

He chuckled softly, a hint of pride in his tone as he gestured around the farmhouse. "It's definitely a far cry from the city," he admitted. "But it suits me."

"It does seem like you've found your place here. It's... different, but in a good way."

Spencer's smile widened at your words "It is different, and I like it here," he agreed. "Which is why I'm going to say no to whatever reason you're here."

You raised an eyebrow. "I haven't even said anything."

"You didn't have to, everyone else has already said their piece." He turned and focused his attention back on his horse. "And the answer is still no."

You silently studied him as he finished his task. He was right; your other teammates had already been here before you, trying to coax him back to the BAU. But you couldn't help but feel a sense of determination rise within you. Spencer Reid might be a stubborn cowboy now, but you knew deep down that his brilliant mind belonged with the team.

But knowing no one else could crack his stubbornness, you knew you needed a different approach and the only way you could think of was to reel him in with his current interest. "He's beautiful," you acknowledged, nodding towards the horse he was working on. "What's his name?"

"She's beautiful," he corrected. "And her name is Mildred."

The name didn't sound foreign to you. "You must really have something sentimental with that name. Didn't you name one of your mugs Mildred?"

He tipped his head back. "You remembered?"

"Of course, I do," you replied with a grin. "I remember a lot about you, even if we didn't have much time getting to know each other."

The memories of your time at the BAU flooded back. The way you joined the team right before Spencer had decided to take a break, which had turned out to be more permanent than anyone had anticipated. Although it was hard to forget a guy like him. You remembered when your eyes first fell on him and how your heart fluttered at his awkward yet charming smile.

There was something about him, something magnetic and intriguing that drew you in from the very beginning. It was a pity he had to leave shortly after you joined the team because you swore your admiration wasn't one-sided, but with Spencer gone, any hope of exploring those feelings had faded away.

As you stood before him now, you couldn't help but study how different he was yet still managed to look the same. The rugged cowboy attire he now wore seemed worlds away from the suit and tie he had once donned as a profiler, yet there was a familiarity to his features that remained unchanged.

But one thing was for sure, despite the time and distance of not seeing him, you were still attracted to Spencer Reid.

"I remember a lot about you too."

You laughed. "That's because you have an eidetic memory." Spencer simply flashed you a sheepish grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. You slowly took a step forward towards him. "Can I touch her?"

He nodded, gesturing towards Mildred. "Go ahead. She's quite friendly."

You approached the horse cautiously, extending your hand to stroke her mane gently. Mildred nuzzled against your palm, her warm breath tickling your skin. A sense of calm washed over you as you felt the gentle rhythm of her breathing.

Spencer watched you with a soft smile, his gaze warm and reassuring. "She likes you," he remarked, his voice low and soothing.

You smiled back. "I like her too," you replied, your fingers trailing along Mildred's soft fur. Then your eyes glanced over to him and the gears in your head started to move. You needed to act as stealthy as possible. "So... how fast can horses go? In general?"

His smile widened at your question. "Well, it depends on various factors like breed, training, and terrain," he began, falling into his familiar role as an educator. "On average, horses can reach speeds of around 25 to 30 miles per hour, but some breeds can go even faster, reaching speeds of up to 40 miles per hour."

You nodded, absorbing the information as you continued stroking Mildred's fur while keeping your true intentions hidden behind a facade of innocent curiosity. "Are mammals usually that fast?"

"Actually, yes," he replied. "While horses are known for their impressive speed, they're not the only mammals capable of reaching high velocities."

"...how about bulls?"

Spencer raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued by your sudden interest in bulls. "Bulls?" he echoed, studying you intently.

You met his gaze, trying to appear nonchalant. "Yeah, bulls."

He continued to scrutinize you, his sharp intellect picking up on your evasive behavior. Spencer may not work as a profiler anymore, but he could tell when someone had ulterior motives.

"Alright, what is it?" he finally asked, crossing his arms.

You sighed, trying not to focus on the way his arms flexed at the movement, and took another step towards him. If you were going to convince him to return to the BAU, you needed to be honest with him. "Well, you see, the current case we're working on is... it's a bit unusual."

Spencer's curiosity was piqued, his interest evident in how he leaned in slightly, waiting for you to continue.

"Three victims were found dead under suspicious circumstances," you explained, choosing your words carefully. "The strange part is, all three victims were found with injuries consistent with being trampled by bulls."

"Trampled by bulls?" he repeated, disbelief coloring his voice.

"It sounds bizarre, I know. There have been reports of aggressive behavior from a nearby ranch, and the local authorities suspect that the deaths may be connected to the bulls on the property. But the thing is, the autopsies showed that it might not even be caused by any type of animal."

"And you want me to help with the investigation," he summarized.

"We could certainly use your help," you admitted, hoping that he would see the significance of his involvement.

Spencer fell silent for a moment, his gaze distant as he considered your words. Then, without saying another word, he turned on his heels and began to walk towards another part of the stable, a hidden corner shrouded in shadows. Your heart sank as you watched him move away.

"I don't think I'm the person you should be looking for."

You followed him, determined not to let him slip away without a fight. "You're exactly the person we should be looking for! With that smart brain of yours and your knowledge of farm animals, we could profile the Unsub in no time."

His steps faltered momentarily as your words reached him, but he didn't turn back to face you. Instead, he continued walking, his silhouette fading into the shadows of the stable.

"I appreciate the sentiment," he called back over his shoulder, his voice tinged with resignation, "But I'm not sure I'm the right fit for this anymore."

"Reid," you called after him, quickening your pace to catch up. "Please, just hear me out."

"Y/n," he warned dangerously low. The way he spoke your name affected you more than you'd like to admit. You cautiously took a step forward.

"Do you know how long it took me to do a geographical profile of the crime scenes? Or how Alvez spent two nights going through stacks of documents when you would've finished it in like an hour?" You let out a sigh. "It's so different without you, we miss you."

He slightly faltered at your words again but remained quiet, so you tried again.

"We could really use your help, Spence, at least on this case. The team needs you." You watched him try to do some other task as if trying to ignore you. "I need you."

He remained silent for a moment longer, the only sound the soft shuffle of his boots against the stable floor. Then, slowly, he turned to face you, and there was a subtle shift in his expression, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

"...you need me?"

You faltered for a moment, taken aback by his unexpected question. The room seemed to shrink around you, the walls closing in as you became hyper-aware of the proximity between the two of you. Your gaze involuntarily flickered over every detail of his face, taking in the curve of his stubble jaw, the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, and the lines etched on his brow.

You also noticed his lips. Those damn kissable lips, pressed together in a thin line as he waited for your response. You found yourself inexplicably drawn to them, a surge of desire coursing through you at the mere thought of what it would feel like to press your own against them.

Shaking yourself from your inappropriate thoughts, you forced your gaze back to his eyes, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment at where your mind had wandered. You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat.

"Yes," you finally replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I-I need you."

As the words left your lips, a heavy silence fell upon the room. You could feel his eyes on you, his gaze intense and searching, as if he were trying to interpret the depth of your confession. For a moment, neither of you spoke, and you could hear the sound of your heartbeat echoing in your ears, the rhythm erratic and unsteady.

"And you missed me?"

You held his gaze. While your words might not have been an outright confession, it wasn't exactly a lie, and there was no reason to deny the truth.

"I missed you," you admitted, your voice sounding more breathless than you intended. He smiled. Then, slowly, he reached out, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, the warmth of it searing through you like a flame.

"Fine, I'll help you," he whispered, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "On one condition."

Your heart skipped a beat, anticipation coursing through your veins as you waited for him to continue. His gaze held yours, unwavering and intense. You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, from your wide eyes to the slope of your nose, before lingering on your lips. For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the sound of your shallow breaths. Then he finally spoke.

"Be honest with me," he responded, his fingers tracing a gentle path along your jawline, "Do you need my help with the case or do you need me for something else?"

You met his gaze, searching for the right words to express the truth of your intentions. "Both," you admitted after a pause, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need your help with the case, but I also... need you."

A satisfied smile curled on his lips as he gently cupped your cheek, pulling you closer. But just as you thought he would close the distance between your lips, he paused, his warm breath teasing against your skin. His next question hung in the air between you, a challenge and an invitation wrapped into one.

"Tell me what you need me for then."

Your breath caught in your throat as his lips hovered tantalizingly close to yours. "I-I need you to kiss me," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, your words tinged with urgency and desire. "Please."

His gaze darkened. "I never took you as one to beg," he remarked, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "But I must admit, I quite like it."

Then slowly, almost hesitantly, he closed the remaining distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light touch. You could still feel the smile playing on his lips, but only briefly before he moved them slowly, capturing every curve of your soft lips.

He swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, holding your jaw in place. His hand cradled your face, holding you gently but firmly, while his other hand explored your body. It trailed down your back, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through you, before settling on your hip. You gasped at the sudden contact and he seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue delving deeper.

With a boldness that surprised even yourself, you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer. Your fingers tangled in his hair, knocking off his hat onto the floor before tugging lightly at the roots, eliciting a low moan from him that vibrated against your lips.

What had started as gently molding your lips together turned into a passionate dance of tongues, leaving you moaning and breathless. He slowly pulled away, his eyes slamming shut as his forehead met yours, both of you gasping for air while you tried to regain your composure. His breath mingled with yours, a heady mix of desire and need, as he spoke in a ragged voice.

"You," he gasped, his words laced with raw intensity, "Taste better than I imagined."

Your head was spinning. How could he consume you with just a kiss? You had dreamed of this moment, of being close to him, but you never imagined it would affect you as deeply as it did now.

"Do you even realize," He pressed on, his voice low with pent-up longing. "How much I've wanted to do this?"

Your head was swimming in a haze of desire as his lips trailed along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine. "Yeah?" you breathed out, barely able to form coherent thoughts.

He nodded against your neck. "Ever since I saw you."

"Wh-Why didn't you say anything?" you managed to stammer out, the words barely audible amidst the dizzying sensation of his lips on your skin.

"Wasn't sure you felt the same way."

You took a moment to process his words, the warmth of his breath against your skin adding to the whirlwind of sensations coursing through you. "You should've said something, it would make this whole convincing you a lot easier."

He paused, his lips leaving a trail of soft kisses along your neck. "I don't know," he finally murmured. "I think I need a little more persuading."

His words sent a jolt of desire coursing through you, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. You swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the intoxicating sensation of his lips on your skin.

"I can persuade you in other ways."

Spencer lifted his head, his gaze meeting yours. "Then show me," he breathed, his voice thick with desire.

There was no room for hesitation. You leaned in, capturing his lips with yours in a desperate, passionate kiss, fully aware of the risk of being caught, but his mouth on your body felt too good to care. It wasn't like you hadn't fantasized about this exact moment, about the feel of his mouth on your body, the way his hands would explore every inch of you with a hunger that mirrored your own.

His hands found your hips, pushing you to the nearest wall before his fingers fumbled with the buttons on your blouse. It was clear you both decided that the risk was well worth the wait.

"May I?" He asked, his fingers still working on your front buttons.

You laughed amusedly. "You already are."

His response was a chuckle of his own before he buried his head in your neck again. The opening in the front of your shirt chilled your body, sending goosebumps all along your skin as his hands caressed over your lacy, black bra covering your breasts, thumbing your hardened nipples.

He leaned further down, trailing his lips over your cleavage, before sucking softly on the spot. The sensation made you gasp, knowing well enough that there would be marks left behind, but you didn't care. Wanting to give more to him, you reached out between your bodies and pulled down your bra, granting him more access to your skin.

His eyes drank in the sight before him hungrily. He gently rubbed against the small pebbles on your chest, wetting his lips as he did, eyes completely trained on them now. Without warning he surged forward, tongue darting out to lick a long, flat stripe against one of your nipples. You let out a surprised moan at the action, fingers tugging at his hair tightly and head tilting back before snapping down to look at him.

A choked moan left your lips as he continued sucking, licking, twirling his tongue around it while playing with the other with his hand. "Spence..." you whined, your voice sounding clear in the room.

"Shh," he mumbled against your skin. "Keep your voice down."

You nodded helplessly as he released your nipple before wrapping his lips around the other one, giving the same attention. He repeated the motion, rolling your wet nipple under his calloused palm, having you arch your back and push your chest into his face. He didn't have to be told twice, immediately giving it a hard suck while pinching the other one.

The sensation traveled along your body before it lowered between your thighs, forming an ache the second his hand trailed down your stomach. His fingers finally found the hem of your pants, before dipping underneath the material, slipping right underneath your panties. Your breath hitched when two of his long fingers slide between your folds, spreading your slick before finding its rightful place on your clit.

"You're so wet," he whispered in a daze, trailing his lips back up your collarbone. He couldn't believe how drenched you already were. "All this for me?"

You nodded, gasping when he stroked up and down your folds, coating his fingers with your arousal. Your hips buckled against his touch and he didn't hesitate when he started rubbing your clit, feeling your body writhe under him. A sudden pressure of his fingers sent pleasure shooting through you, and your head fell back to the wall, mouth agape, face flushed.

But before you could relish the pleasure, he suddenly pulled his hand out of your pants before tugging you, urging you to follow him. As he led you deeper into the stable, your heart raced with anticipation. You followed him silently, feeling a rush of excitement as he pulled you behind the stacks of hay, sheltering the two of you from prying eyes.

The rustling of the hay beneath you echoed in the room as he pulled you closer, his touch igniting a fire within you as you pressed your hands on his chest. With trembling hands, you began to undo the buttons of his shirt, and his gaze never left yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

As your fingertips brushed along his skin, you felt the warmth radiating from his body, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He wasn't muscular in the conventional sense, but there was a lean strength to him that was undeniably attractive. Your fingers continued their journey downward, skimming lightly over the softness of his stomach before teasing along the line of hair that trailed further down.

Your hands found their way to the buckle of his belt, fingers deftly working to undo it. He made no move to stop you as his gaze remained fixed on you. There was a hunger in his eyes, urging you for more, yet he remained patient, allowing you to take the lead. And then you tugged down his denim, not much than an inch but enough for you to pull his cock out.

He was warm and achingly hard, and a low, guttural sound escaped his lips as his hips bucked into your palm. His eyes fluttered closed momentarily, a shudder passing through him as he surrendered to the sensation. You looked up at him through your lashes, the corner of your lips quirked up in a smirk.

"Shh," you whispered, echoing his words. "Keep your voice down."

He chuckled softly, eyes meeting yours. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Not as much as you are."

You proved your point by tugging his cock harder, pumping up and down his length. His head fell back, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he fought to stifle his moans. You couldn't help but find it endearing, the way he struggled to keep quiet, his brows creasing in concentration. It was a pity, really, because you liked hearing the raw, unfiltered sounds of his pleasure.

You swiped your thumb along the tip of his cock, gathering the slickness before rubbing it along his length. His head snapped down to look between you, his eyes taking in the way you quickened your pace, pumping him in your hand. A sense of urgency overwhelmed him the moment your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip, and he leaned in, shoving his own tongue into your mouth.

The way your fingers gripped his cock had him moaning into the kiss which you happily accepted. As he felt that familiar knot tightening in his stomach, he knew he had to act quickly. With a gasp, he pulled away from the kiss, his chest heaving with ragged breaths as he reached between you to halt your movements. With a sense of urgency, he shrugged off his shirt and laid it carefully on the stack of hay behind you.

"Turn around," was all he said as he pushed down his pants to uncover himself, leaving you empty for the moment.

You obliged, turning while gripping the hem of your pants and slipping them down your legs. Without hesitation, you pushed your panties down before kicking them off, giving him the perfect view of your soaked slit. It didn't take long for him to drop onto the floor, his hands running along the back of your thighs.

"Look at you." He leaned closer, his breath brushing your damp skin. "Aren't you a pretty little thing?"

You leaned forward and arched your back at his words, earning a deep, low sound of approval from him. One of his hands gripped your ass, slowly kneading your supple skin as his other hand grabbed onto your right leg, hiking it over the stack of hay. He had a better view of your wetness in this position, and you bit down your lips when you felt his fingers brush over your entrance.

A finger slipped inside you, then two, and when he started to pump them in and out of your tight walls, you pressed yourself further onto the stack of hay underneath you, trying to hold yourself back from making too much noise. Your arousal dripped from your core to coat his fingers and he was mesmerized by how eager your body was for him, how your hips rocked back against his hand.

But you needed more. His touch, his warmth, his presence—it wasn't enough. Your body ached for him, every nerve alive with desire.

"Please..." you breathlessly begged him, wanting to feel him inside of you, wanting him to rid your body of the tension, of the ache between your legs. Your jaw slacked open when you felt his mouth press against your clit before giving a slight suck.

"Tell me what you need," he ordered, breath deep and raspy and strained against your wet skin. He sucked onto your aching nub once again as his fingers continued to pump in and out of you. "And I'll give it to you."

"Please," you gasped, overwhelmed with the sudden force of his fingers and tongue between your legs and the pleasure that coursed through your body. "I w-want to f-feel you."

He pulled his fingers from within you, but his mouth was still exploring the wetness of your skin. His eager tongue worked wonders against your pussy, drawing out every second of pleasure as your hips rolled against his mouth. A whimper slipped from your lips as his tongue worked on your clit faster and you found yourself unable to contain yourself any longer.

"S-Spence..." You whined, not caring how desperate you sounded. All that mattered was your need for him. "Please..."

He placed a kiss on your swollen clit. "Be specific, baby, tell me what you need."

His endearment sent shivers down your spine, and you felt yourself spiraling further. Without hesitation, you begged shamelessly, "I-I want to feel y-your cock."

A low groan fell through his lips as he got off the floor, positioning himself behind you. "Say more words like that and I may lose the hint of self-control I have."

"I just—I just need you to fuck me," you didn't recognize the choke in your voice when you whined again.

He had no intention of protesting as he slipped between your legs, finally allowing you to feel just how hard you made him. For a moment, he pushed his hips toward you, grinding his cock against your folds, feeling your arousal soak his flesh.

"Is this what you wanted?" His hand gripped his cock to ease the tip over your entrance, pushing into you slowly, gasping when your walls clenched around him eagerly.

"Fuck, yes," was all you could manage to whimper, eyes screwing shut as he filled you up. And when you could barely stand anymore, becoming a quivering mess beneath him, he finally thrust deeper, pushing his hips against your body, earning a gasp with your mouth falling open.

"Oh my god." You could barely speak, barely form words, or even think as he pressed a hand to on your lower back, holding you in place as he dragged his cock out of you, only to ram himself back inside.

"Harder," you begged him, so breathless once again, "F-Faster."

He listened to you; he listened to the way your body moved against him, the way your walls tightened around his length. The way you stifled a moan and curse and huff anytime he thrust just right to have you pushing your hips back to him, your body trembling, shaking, and your legs nearly giving out because the pleasure became too much to bear.

"D-Don't stop." You had no shame in begging him. Not when he could make you feel so good, not when he was holding onto your hips as he continued to thrust into your dripping cunt.

"That's it," he encouraged, hips beginning to fall into a steady rhythm. "Tell me how good it feels. Beg me not to stop."

"So-so good," you babbled. "Don't—don't fucking stop."

He obliged your words by pushing apart your legs even further. Your face twisted in pleasure, so sensitive and overwhelmed as his hips smacked against your ass and he thrust himself harder into you. Sweat began to bead against his forehead once he pumped his cock into you harder, faster, earning every little whimper, even the ones you lacked the strength to release.

Thoughts of getting caught, of knowing anyone could walk in when he was buried deep inside you, left both of your minds. Neither of you cared when you were so wrapped up in one another. Not when you hiked your leg higher, allowing his cock to hit the spot that had you quivering in his hold when he slammed into you again.

Then he suddenly released his grip on your hips, slipping a hand between the two of you to press his fingers to your clit. The sudden increase in pleasure had you gasping in pure bliss. The room began to spin, air rushing to your head and the harder he fucked you, the deeper he thrust, and the faster his fingers rubbed against your clit, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold your sanity any longer.

He sensed your desperation in the way you gasped his name over and over again, and he thrust into you with more force than before. You tightened around him, squeezing him so damn hard he was tempted to lose all control right then, but he persisted in bringing your pleasure first. The sloppy sounds of your arousal coating his flesh filled the room, and with one, final thrust, you gasped before the pleasure finally consumed you.

He abruptly released your clit as he took hold of your hips again, keeping you in place while ruthlessly thrusting in and out through your bliss. His fingers pressed harder, drawing out every breathless moan, every strained whimper, every gasp of his name until your body grew too weak.

But he was far from done, slowing his hips to hit deep within your walls with aggressive thrusts, bringing his own high closer and closer as you whined from the overwhelming sensation, too sensitive, too far gone to handle much more, shuddering with every push of his cock within you.

"Where—" he groaned, your slick cunt too much for him, your juices drenching along his pelvis. "I'm close—"

You managed to snap your head over your shoulders. "Pull out, pull out."

You watched through fluttering lids as he gripped himself in his hand, and with trembling legs, you kneeled before him, gripped his cock in your hand, and took him fully in your mouth. He gritted his teeth at the sensation, sucking a breath in through his teeth as he felt your tongue dragging along his length.

You pushed further, hollowing your cheeks as you continued to swallow him down until the tip of his cock finally reached the back of your throat, nose pressed against his pelvis. He tipped his head back as you started to suck him, gagging around him when you felt him thrust his hips into you.

His eyes flicked down again at the sound only to find you looking up at him through your lashes. Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, before cradling your soft cheeks in both his large hands, and began thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth. Obscene noises filled the room as he continued to use you, tears welling at your lids and saliva building at your lips, seeping down your chin.

He continued to pump himself into your mouth, slowly starting to lose control, getting so lost in how warm your lips were wrapped around him. His jaw fell open as he released a final groan, brows creasing and eyes screwed shut, thrusting so deep before the first shot of his release filled your mouth.

Then a few more shots followed and you swallowed every drop down your throat as he continued to look at you in wonder. His breath was punching out of his chest in ragged, overwhelmed gasps, sweat glittering at his temples while he silently groaned through the pleasure.

His head dipped low as you dragged your tongue up his length for the last time, from the base of his cock to the tip, and you finally licked him clean. A few moments of catching your breaths passed before he gently pulled you back to your feet.

As you both quickly fixed your clothes and adjusted your hair, he retrieved his cowboy hat from where it had been discarded on the floor, placing it back on his head with a grin. Then, without hesitation, he drew you close, his lips peppering your face with sweet, tender kisses.

You laughed at his sudden affection. "What's all this for?" you asked, smiling up at him.

"I feel obligated after... all of that," he confessed, his lips brushing softly against yours before he withdrew slightly. "You're amazing."

Your smile widened at his words, a soft warmth blooming in your chest. "And you're not so bad yourself," you replied teasingly, wrapping your arms around his neck. "So, was that enough to convince you to come back?"

"Almost," he murmured, his voice low and filled with warmth. "I think I need a bit more convincing."

You quirked an eyebrow. "I don't think I have it in me for round two."

"No, not that," he said with a laugh. His hand slid down to rest on your lower back, drawing you closer to him. "Have dinner with me tonight and I'll come by the office tomorrow."

You smiled up at him, a flutter of excitement dancing in your chest as you took in every detail of his rugged features—the subtle crinkle in the corner of his eyes, the hint of stubble along his jawline, and the warmth of his brown eyes that seemed to shine brighter in the light.

Your gaze lingered on his cowboy hat, and with a mischievous grin, you reached out to grab it, placing it atop your own head.

"Then you've got yourself a deal, cowboy."

[ghcstao3]

AU where ghost is a relatively famous voice actor—by name, anyway. he’s never shown his face in those ‘behind-the-scenes’ videos, doesn’t do red carpets for the bigger productions, always leaves the press junkets to his colleagues. he loves his job, don’t get him wrong, it’s fun and creative and he’s met some really great people, he just… has never wanted to be in the limelight. that’s not for him.

and it’s easy to get away with, because all of the voices he uses are not really his. there’s elements of him, sure, but nothing someone in person could necessarily place, unless they really listened close and were some kind of super fan. in real life, ghost is soft spoken, and maybe his voice is a little rough from the years before he learned how to properly take care of his vocal cords, but it’s still completely separate from all his characters. that was a rule he stuck with throughout his career—no using his real voice.

soap likes to consider himself a fan of simon riley.

(of his work, obviously. just his work. he definitely isn’t intrigued or anything by the mystery that is the voice actor. nuh uh. not at all.)

he’s seen just about every film and show that features one of the actor’s many voices, knows what little trivia is known of him, and, ultimately, he really respects the guy. his younger sister had finally landed herself a sizeable role in voice acting pretty recently after years of odds and ends, and soap knows how difficult it is to make it in the industry. so what if he may also have a little bit of a crush on the unknown man’s talent?

and so what if that little crush has presently brought him to a bookstore, because soap had heard simon would be voicing a character in some adaptation and soap wanted to get himself caught up? it’s fine. it’s normal. totally normal.

it’s in search of the book when soap accidentally stumbles into an absolute brick-wall of a man as he rounds the corner. soap mutters out apologies, goes to move past him, but then looks up and melts, just a little. because it’s then that soap discovers the prettiest set of brown eyes he thinks he’s ever seen. and when his gaze briefly flicks down—he sees that the man is holding the book he’d been looking for.

soap grins, does his best to look charming in spite of the fact that he’d just run into this poor, beautiful bastard. “was lookin’ for that one, too.”

the man’s brow furrows in confusion before he realizes what soap had been referring to. his eyes fall almost self-consciously to the book.

“oh, yeah. it’s a good book. gave my nephew my other copy, so i’m just…” the man lifts the book in some helpless gesture.

“hm.” soap nods. he can’t help but notice how soothing the man’s voice is, low and rough around the edges, but completely soft in the middle. “y’hear they’re making a movie?”

the man perks up, and for a moment soap wonders if that’s panic he sees flash in his eyes. he clears his throat. “yes, that’s actually why i’m, well. i owned it before, but because i’m doing the—because of the movie, i had to…” the man sighs, shoulders slumping. it’s endearing, the way he’s gotten so easily flustered, like he isn’t used to small talk. “never mind. i’ll let you… i hope you enjoy it. the book. and movie too, i guess.”

soap laughs, not unkindly. “the book, we’ll see. favourite actor’s in the movie, so i’ll probably like it either way.”

“yeah?” the man cocks his head, curious. “who’s that?”

unashamedly, soap replies, “simon riley.”

it’s not unnoticeable, the way the man’s face blossoms a faint pink before he coughs and ducks his head. “he’s, uh. heard he’s good,” he says. “so others say.”

for a moment, it looks like the man is preparing to bolt, so soap sticks out his hand as a last-minute resort to keep him around just a little longer. “i’m john. friends call me soap. long story, but if you maybe let me take you out for some coffee, i could tell you?”

apprehension lines the man’s posture, but he eventually tucks the book under one arm and shakes soap’s hand. “friends call me ghost. and i’d like that.”

ghost’s hand is warm, his grip firm. soap tries not to let himself linger in the touch.

“sounds like a date.” soap smiles up at ghost. “did you want to do that today, or…?”

ghost shakes his head. “can’t today. but i can give you my number?”

soap agrees, but as he reaches for his phone he’s met with an empty pocket and the realization that he’d left it on the counter at home. he sighs, feeling disheartened, readying an excuse when he gets an idea. “d’you have a pen?”

ghost does, in fact, have a pen, though soap supposes he could’ve just gone and bought one from the bookstore just as well. soap tells him to stay put a minute, goes to retrieve his own copy of the book, and comes back with it opened to the first page.

“i’m buying it, anyway,” soap says. and it’s commemorative, he doesn’t add, of the day and reason we met. because he’s hopeful this may actually go somewhere.

ghost writes his phone number inside, deliberately hands the book back to soap with the cover pressed closed by his thumb, and they head to the register together.

it’s only when soap gets home and finally goes to type ghost’s number into his phone that he sees, above the digits, a small simon :) inscribed on the paper.

[starkeyisthelastname]

What about reader riding trailer park rafe’s cock?

that old worn couch is subject to a lot of dirty mean sex 💦😩

It had been a long day for him, working some shitty job and sweatin’ his ass off in the brutal Carolina heat, just for his truck to fuck up on the way home. He thankfully got it started up again, zooming it through the park until he pulled up to his run down trailer. You were already by the creaky steps waiting for him, lookin’ all pretty with a smile on your face. He was in a piss poor mood, hot and just wanted to sit on his ass.

“Get inside, gimme a beer and bring me my plate.” He grumbled, stomping past you with a brooding look on his handsome face. Of course he expected you to wait on him hand and foot, like a good little trailer park house wife does.

He slid off his belt, throwing it on the old wooden coffee table before lazily resting on the worn couch. You’d bring him a plate full of food you had cooked and a cold beer from the fridge. He watched you then fix a smaller plate for yourself, before coming down to sit next to him. It would be quiet except for the shitty tv playing something that his eyes were focused on while he ate his food up and downed his beer.

It was after he cleared his plate, he felt a little better and wanted to relax even more with his dick inside your cunt. “Hey, go get me another one sugar.” He said, his voice a little less gruff than when he had greeted you as he waved his empty beer can around. You always felt giddy at his sweet names he called you, prancing over to the fridge to get him another beer, like a good obedient doll. He watched that sweet bare ass peek out of your dress as you bent over, his mind made up even more as he lit a cigarette and popped the button of his jeans open.

As you approached with his beer, he reached out with two rough hands to pull you onto his lap to straddle. He took the beer from you, one hand coming up to take a drag from his cigarette before inhaling the smoke and putting the bud out. His blue eyes grazed over you, blowing out the smoke over your sweet smelling self as he drank in every inch he was gonna ruin some more of.

“I’m gonna stretch your little cunt out for a while. Kay sweetheart?” He said, hand that wasn’t holding his beer coming up to grip your jaw so that you would keep your eyes on him. You nodded eagerly, already lifting up your dress like he been teaching you.

You’d let out the prettiest whine, grasping his broad shoulder for support while he helped you ease down onto his fat length. He was huge, always stretching your pretty cunt open and making your head dizzy when you felt him inside. “T-too big.” You couldn’t help but whimper, tensing up as he filled you to the brim and placed his hands on your hips to squeeze.

You were such a tight fuck, gripping his dick as he started slowly guiding you up and down. “You can fuckin’ take it babydoll. Let that fat cock stuff your sweet hole full.” He grunted, teaching you how to ride dick so that on days he didn’t feel like putting in the work he could still get a nut.

As you began to find a rhythm, letting those beautiful moans echo of the trailer walls, he then let his hands go and rested them behind his head. He’d lean back against the tattered loveseat, dirty smirk on his face as he watched you begin to bounce up and down without any help. You were such a good little listener, dainty hands tugging at the old silver chain he wore around his neck, and letting those pretty knees work.

He’d even reach over to grab another cigarette, lighting it as it hung between his lip and nodding his head towards you to keep going when you slowed down. “Didn’t I say you could stop? Lemme’ me fuckin’ relax and get to fuckin hoppin’.” He said, his voice sounding mean again as he was gonna make you work for it before he really gave it to you.

[iluvloganhowlett]

I HATE YOU .𖥔 ݁ ˖

in which logan leaves for a mission unexpectedly for almost a year and still expects to be welcomed home upon return

warnings: angst, no happy ending (oops!), a little violence, mutant!reader, that’s it fr

reader has same powers as logan bc they were both experiments at the same time

i also switched up the timeline slightly so pretend logan isn’t a grumpy old man and is more so how he was in x-men (2000)

i also saw some other story that was kinda like this one but i couldn’t remember who’s it was so if anyb knows drop it so i can credit

part 2

“why are we here again?” wade questioned, stuffing a handful of cheetos he stole from a vending machine a while back.

logan only glared at him, “because. i left her for 9 months, the least i can do is come home and show her that im alive.”

wade shrugs, “who even is this ‘she?’ is she hot?”

in seconds, wade finds himself pinned against the wall of the hallway, logan’s claws only centimeters from his neck. “she’s my girl, you don’t get to talk about her being hot,” logan growls, retracting his claws and releasing wade.

“well damn wolvie! don’t get your panties in a bunch, im not stealing your girl! unless the charm is just too much for her then-“

“do you ever stop fucking talking outta your ass?”

wade only sighed, halting to a stop as logan did the same. “137,” logan muttered, looking up at the 137 sitting next to your door.

as logan rose his hand to knock, the door was swung open. logan’s eyes widened. he thought he’d gotten himself back into the right headspace to see you again, clearly he’d been mistaken.

the way your low-set brows rose up at the corners in anger, your long lashes drawing his eyes straight to your deep brown ones. your plush lips curled in slightly and your hair flowed down your back smoother than water.

wade whistled, “hey hot stuff-“ before he was cut of with a punch to the nose, dragging him down to the floor.

logan still had yet to say anything, admiring all the parts of you he’d missed.

however he was cut off with a groan, looking down at your claws that had made their way through his abdomen and back out, retracing back into your forearms.

“what the hell are you doing back here? and who’s the red sex-toy lookin’ thing that i j punched?”

as much as logan wanted to laugh at your dig at wade, he knew how to read the room. and frankly, he was still to stunned. “y/n? baby?”

“don’t call me that,” logan’s eyes widened, “you don’t get to call me that after disappearing for 9 months without notice, lo!”

logan couldn’t help but admire your use of his nickname you created even though you’re pissed at him.

“listen. i know, okay? i know and im sorry but if you let me in,” logan stepped closer, “i can expl- ah fuck!”

you’d stabbed him again in the same spot, pushing his body against the hall with your claws. “no you listen to me, logan. and you listen to me good. i’m not letting you come into my- our house after going awol for fucking forever and coming back with some random gay in a red suit,” you pulled your claws out of him but didn’t put them away this time.

your face softens, eyes moving rapidly between logan’s. he knew you better than anyone, he could see the way your eyes shifted from angry to vulnerable and the way your eyebrows lifted; you were a mini him, despite you being the same age.

“i thought you died, lo. i spent the past months thinking the only person i had and loved was fucking dead,” your eyes welled up as you backed away from logan, putting your claws away alas.

“i’m sorry, doll. im so sorry you have no idea,” logan’s calloused hands grazed your forearms, thumbs tracing the spot where your claws rested.

you sighed, holding back the urge to give in and hold onto him as long as you could.

“but you dont understand-“ you looked away, only for logan to lift a hand and cup your face in it, forcing your glossy eyes to meet his.

“you’re right, james! i don’t understand! so jesus fucking christ enlighten me.”

logan was taken back at your use of his real name, lip parting slightly. his heart ached more and more every time he watched your bottom lip quiver. he knew you were trying to keep up your strong facade, but were beginning to fail.

“i had a mission to go on. i had to save the world, baby!” your brows curled back into anger, and logan knew you thought he was bullshitting. “cmon, angel, stay with me. the asshat over there in the red, he dragged me into this. so if you’re gonna kill anyone for this, have it be him. i just- i need you to let me in.”

you shook your head. “lo- just-“ you stuttered, scavenging for words. “but why didn’t you say anything? you couldn’t have called? sent a letter? hell, baby i would’ve been happy with a fucking pigeon!”

“i didn’t have access to that shit.”

“for 9 months?”

he took a deep sigh, “yes, for nine months.” his tone grew louder. “because if i hadn’t left you for those 9 months there would be no more you for me to come back home to!”

“get out of my damn building, logan.”

“what?”

“leave! i want you and that goddamn red thing to get as far away from me as you fucking can and stay there.”

“y/n-“

“bye logan!”

you slammed the door in his face, leaving him standing there in utter disbelief.

logan’s claws retracted, “FUCK!” he screamed through the hall, leaving a giant claw park across your door.

he looked down at wade, who was watching from a safe distance on the floor. he put his claws away, grabbing wade by the fabric of his suit and dragging him onto his feet.

“get up, you heard the girl; let’s get the fuck away from her.”

logan was breathing heavy, more than ever before. it was like his heart couldn’t catch up to everything he was feeling in the moment. the last thing he wanted to be doing right now was walking out of your apartment building and leaving you, but he was weighed down by so much anger and hurt that he wasn’t exactly in control of himself at the moment.

“well,” wade started, “you handled that well.”

and before he knew it, wade was stabbed into a wall. “ow?”

logan growled, “i’m coming back for her.”

wade only let out a long laugh, stopping logan in his tracks.

“what the fuck are you laughing at? you should’ve heard the joke she made about you! she said you look like a sex toy-“

“i’m not laughing at that, you ape. i’m laughing at the fact that you’re coming back to her! look how it turned out the last time you ‘came back.’ “

“you don’t know what you’re talking about, kid. i’m coming back, whether she likes it or not. i’m not losing the love of my life after all i did to make sure i wouldn’t lose her.”

“i-“ “and next time im here, you won’t be.”

so! should i make a part 2 WITH a happy ending when he does come back??? 🫣🫣

♯ taglist! ∿

@spazwayy @oatmilkriver @sseleniaa @mei-simp @wittyjasontodd @wolverinesangel @realsimpbitchshit @pickuptruck01 @keigohawks @thereallchristine @velvrei

[moonlightrafe]

Delicate

summary: On a dreaded night out with Aegon to forget his past, Aemond finds himself thinking of a future with you.

pairing: Modern!Aemond x Stripper!Reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: Explicit smut, alcohol consumption, brief mention of drugs, sex work, dry humping, lactation kink, slight mommy kink, handjob, cum play 18+ MDNI

note: Tbh, idk what urged me to write this, (it was the photo of Ewan on the couch with the leopard print carpet) but shout out to Aegon for being a good wingman 🫡 I have a part 2 planned but only if people are interested

Aemond Targaryen was never a fan of strip clubs. He viewed them as not only a waste of time, but a waste of money. Spending ungodly amounts on overpriced, watered down drinks. Just so some girl who pretended to be attracted to him, could dance on him for a couple of hours. He always left feeling impure while glitter and the scent of cotton candy body spray clung to his clothes. It just wasn’t his thing, he had better ways to spend his time. And yet, he found himself getting ready to go to one now, on a Tuesday night. With his heathen of a brother and his immature friends. What had become of him?

You’re on the opposite side of town, also getting ready for the evening. Hot steam and the scent of coconut invigorates your senses as you’ve just finished taking an ‘everything’ shower. You’re scrubbed to the bone, freshly exfoliated, shaved, and now lathering vanilla scented lotion onto your skin when your phone buzzes. Aegon Targaryen.

Aegon was your typical rich, spoiled, frat boy who frequented the club you worked at. Over the years he had become something more of a friend than a customer. He would sometimes bring you food, or weed, or a pack of cigarettes. He had even come to your defense when certain men would over step boundaries with you.

He was a good customer, gave a lot of money to the club – and to you. He wasn’t exactly your type but there was no denying he was attractive.

you workin tonight?

depends who’s asking 😈 jk … u know where to find me 💋

perfect. and not for me 😢 have a guy who needs a distraction. wear smth expensive!

oh? 👀🤨

money talks baby

yeah yeah 💸💦

It’s a rainy Tuesday night, you’re not sure why you agreed to pick up a shift in the first place. But you could use some extra cash, and your daughter is at her dad’s this week.

Even though the club you work at is one of the busiest in Kings Landing, you anticipate it to be an uneventful evening. Aegon coming in changes things, maybe you’ll have some sort of fun, and at the very least someone to talk to.

It’s just you and two other girls working tonight. There are three men sat around the stage as Floris dances, and Sara is occupied with a private dance in the back. As you predicted, a pretty slow night. You have the bartender make you a drink. You sit and tap on the glass waiting for some action when Aegon finally shows up.

He has a decent sized group of guys with him, most of which seem to already be under the influence. In order to not appear desperate you wait for Aegon to come to you.

“Lookin’ good, girl!” he calls, leaning in to hug you, “and you wore expensive perfume, that’s a good girl,” he flirts as he slides you a $50 bill, causing you to raise your eyebrows at him.

“Is this for… your friend?”

“Not a friend,” he states proudly, a devilish grin on his face, “my brother.”

You look past Aegon to the group of guys he sauntered in with, and then you spot him. A tall, lean guy with hair the same shade as Aegon’s; except his is much shorter, and styled neatly. He’s aimlessly scrolling his phone, barely looking around. You notice he has a pack of Marlboro Menthols in his hand. With a cool demeanor and a jawline chiseled to perfection by the Gods themselves, you are in for it.

He resembles Aegon for sure, though he is much more handsome.

“Gods, there’s two of you,” you groan jokingly.

“Actually, there’s four of us,” Aegon corrects, “but one’s sixteen and the other is a girl, our sister.”

Aegon hardly ever spoke of his family and when he did it was never in detail. All you knew was they were toxic, full of drama, lacking love, and filthy rich.

“Right. Well, what do I need to know about this one?”

“That’s Aemond. Go easy on him, will you? He’s a major nerd, hates all things fun, and the club isn’t really his scene — total opposite of me,” he notes, “but he’s been hung up on this older woman and I need him to get under someone else to get over her.”

You raise your eyebrows at him a second time, unsure of what you’re getting yourself into.

“What can I say? We’re a complicated bunch, but it’s nothing you can’t handle, right princess?”

You giggle at the pet name and he grins before he smacks you hard on the ass.

“Go get ‘em, tiger.”

You glance over in Aemond’s direction again, now he sips on an old fashioned, his grip tight on the glass while his expression remains unreadable.

You decide to head to the back to quickly freshen yourself up. You’ll need to mentally prepare yourself before sinking your paws into Aegon’s sexy-as-hell younger brother. You brush out your curls, pick away any dried mascara from below your eyelids and generously apply more perfume. Baccarat 540, it was expensive, thank you very much.

You take a large sip of your own drink before you saunter your way back out front and over to the table where he sits.

"Hey! You look like you could use a friend" you purr, “can I offer you a dance?"

Aemond looks over to Aegon who is giving him a thumbs up before looking at you. His eye scans your body.

"Um, yeah,” he finally responds, swallowing thickly, “yeah, you can.”

This time he smiles as he checks you out.

"You wanna go somewhere more private?" you offer in a whisper, motioning to one of the closed off rooms, "ya know away from prying eyes?"

"Sure," he replies and your perfectly manicured fingers wrap around his wrist, dragging him to one of the rooms. Once you’re alone, tucked away behind the velvet curtain, he takes it upon himself to take a seat on the leather couch.

“So how does this work?" he questions nonchalantly, taking a large sip of his old fashioned.

“You’ve never gotten a private dance before?” you ask him and he shakes his head as he swallows.

“Oh, well, I’m flattered,” you giggle, taking a seat next to him, feeling him out.

“Well, while we’re in here,” you say as you place your palm on his leg, “I’m all yours,” you smile.

“All mine, huh?”

“That’s right,” you soon come realize that Aemond isn’t even sure what he wants. You take a large sip of your drink, finishing it off in one gulp.

You discard your empty glass and slowly straddle Aemond’s lap, refusing to break eye contact as you move your body to the rhythm of the song the booms through the speakers. Your palms glide over his lean chest, teasing and tantalizing as you continue to sway your hips. Aemond keeps a firm grip on the couch, his hands not leaving his sides. You reach down and take them in yours.

“You can touch me, you know. I promise you won’t break me,” you encourage, guiding his hands up your body.

His hands are cold as they run up and down your stomach, but they cause a fire to ignite inside of you. His touch is more gentle than what you’re used to. He uses his thumbs to swipe over the sheer fabric of your bra against your nipples. You gasp under his touch but he quickly removes his hands from you, yet you feel his cock grow harder underneath you.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, your hands flying to your breasts, instantly feeling two damp spots there. Fuck.

It’s something you know is inevitable, but it doesn’t make it any less awkward. All of your regulars are already aware of your situation, but with someone new and unsuspecting, it’s an uncomfortable conversation. You’d found a lot of men are actually turned on by it, but there is always that chance that the current one won’t be.

“I – I’m so sorry. I don’t usually confide this, Aegon knows… but uh, I have a one year old who’s still breastfeeding.”

Aemond appears to be at a loss for words. You need to get up before he can reject you himself.

“Let me just—” He stares at you intently as you’re about to remove yourself from his lap. He is definitely caught off guard by your confession, but not in the negative way that you think.

“That’s no problem,” he says huskily as he composes himself, “you stay right here.”

His gaze is piercing as he keeps his hands firm on your hips, the cool metal of his rings digs into your flesh as he holds you in place in his lap.

“Alright, if you’re sure,” you mutter back to him, feeling relieved.

“Oh, I’m sure,” he tells you, the bulge in his pants evidently harder than it was earlier.

You study him carefully, there is a hunger in his eye that wasn’t there before, even moments ago. It’s as if his entire demeanor has changed. You figure you can use this to your advantage.

“I don’t usually do this, but I’m making an exception,” you tell him as you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra. You shimmy it off your shoulders and let it fall to the dirty floor.

“Because I’m Aegon’s brother?” he asks.

“No, because …. I want to.”

It was true, you didn’t normally get this intimate with customers, but something about Aemond was drawing you in.

Aemond’s eye widens as you reveal your glistening nipples to him. You squeeze at your breast lightly, grinding yourself into him, and he rewards you with a moan. your thumb around your nipple, gathering some of your milk onto it before rubbing it along Aemond’s lower lip. He eagerly accepts it into his mouth, sucking it harshly, nipping at your fingertip.

“You like that?”

“Mhm,” he groans against you, releasing your thumb before leaning forward into you. He smells good, expensive cologne and nicotine. His lips find their way to your neck, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. His fingers ghost down your body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You arch into him, wanting more.

He continues to move at an agonizingly slow pace, taking his time with you as his lips make their way from your throat down to your chest. Your breath hitches once his tongue finally comes in contact with your nipple, lapping at the droplets of milk there. He takes your flesh into his mouth, gently suckling, careful not to apply too much pressure.

Your mind is going hazy as arousal leaks from your core, so you grind down harder on him, attempting to ease the ache between your legs.

Aemond continues to suckle at your breast, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as he drinks from you with ease. His eyes are closed, his mind completely lost to the sensation of you in his mouth. Your body trembles against him and he feels it, your small whimpers and moans urging him on.

He pulls away slowly, and you wince at the loss of contact. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses across your skin as he looks up at you with glassy eyes.

You lean back, positioning yourself so that you have access to the button of Aemond’s jeans.

“Can I?” you ask.

He nods his head eagerly, unbuttoning them for you and yanking the zipper down with quickness.

You slip your hand inside, beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs and wrap your hand around his length, tugging gently as your free hand flies to the back of his head, pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck.

Your hand slides at a steady pace against his shaft, squeezing gently. His thick veins pulsing underneath your fingertips.

“Fuck, M-mommy,” he moans.

Your eyes widen at his choice of words but they stir something sinister inside you, and what Aegon told you earlier rings in the back of your mind: “he’s been hung up on this older woman.”

It all clicks.

You kiss him soft and slow for a moment before pulling away.

“You wanna be a good boy and cum for mommy baby?”

“Yes! I’m — I’m good,��� he stutters, rutting himself up into your palm.

Your hand works quicker as he finds himself back at your chest. Drinking from you like a man starved.

A few more languid pumps of his cock and he’s trembling beneath you. Shooting thick, pearly ropes into your hand. You move your hand down lower to cup and squeeze at his balls for a moment before bringing it back up to your mouth, licking away the salty remnants as Aemond shoves his cock back into his pants.

As if right on schedule, the timer you set on your phone to keep track of the time goes off.

“Well, looks like our time’s up,” you say with a frown.

“Looks like it,” he replies and the air swells with tension.

You turn to leave, hoping to give him a moment to gain his composure and get himself together but he yanks at your wrist.

“Wait! Let me take you out!” he blurts out at you, “on a date, a real one. Please.”

You bring your hand up to wipe a smudge of your lipgloss from the corner of his mouth.

“This was paid for, ya know?” You say empathetically and his eye darkens. Great. You’ve offended him.

“I know that,” he says sternly, “It’s just, I want to take you out. Please. Just one date.”

“One date,” you repeat.

“Yes,” he assures, his good eye gleaming.

“Okay.”

Something else you don’t usually do, date customers. These Targaryen’s are giving you a run for your money.

You give Aemond your phone number and you let him add his to your phone.

“I will text you,” he promises before he goes to exit the room. You follow him out and watch as he makes his way back to Aegon who is bright eyed and clapping at his brother.

You make eye contact with Aegon and he mouths something to you that you are unable to decipher.

What have you gotten yourself into?

[steddieas-shegoes]

not so different

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt ‘graduation’

rated t | 994 words | cw: mention of past character death, mention of alcohol, language | tags: childhood friends, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, good uncle Wayne Munson

🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦

Steve Harrington didn’t cry, not even when he fell off the slide at the playground and his knee bled for 15 minutes and his nanny had to call his mom.

But this was a special instance where he was allowed to be sad. His nanny even said so. He watched all the kids in his kindergarten class taking pictures with their moms and dads, uncles and aunts, grandpas and grandmas, and wondered why he didn’t have anyone here for him.

He found an empty classroom in the big kid hall as soon as the ceremony was done, sat behind the teacher’s desk, and cried into his knees.

“Did your daddy not show up either?” A voice asked from in front of him.

He lifted his head, vision blurry and face wet, to see Eddie.

Eddie had already done kindergarten once, but he had trouble with his phonics, so they kept him behind. He was the first kid to talk to Steve in class, but within a few days, Tommy and Carol and Heather had scared him away from Steve entirely.

“Um, no.”

“What about your mama?”

“She’s with my dad.”

“My mama is with God. Or that’s what a lot of people say. I dunno if she was friends with him or not, though. I think she just got buried in the ground and people are scared to tell me,” Eddie was sitting next to Steve now, his leg knocking against Steve’s.

Eddie didn’t sit still very well, and the teacher always said he had ants in his pants. Steve hoped he didn’t have them in there now; he didn’t want any ants on him.

“Where’s your dad?”

“He’s probably getting ‘rested again. He showed up being silly and my Uncle Wayne had to take him outside,” Eddie shrugged.

“Is he tired?” Steve asked, sniffling and leaning more against Eddie.

“No. Uncle Wayne says sometimes he has too much of the drinks in the bottles I’m not allowed to touch and it makes him act like he don’t got a brain,” Eddie didn’t sound that sad, but Steve still wanted to hug him. “So your daddy isn’t here?”

“No. I think he forgot.”

“Sorry he forgot. My Uncle Wayne never forgets. He even came to the lunch room for my birthday. He brought me a piece of pizza!” Eddie always sounded more excited than anyone else. Most of the kids in the class thought it was stupid, but Steve kind of liked the way his eyes got wide and his smile got so big it took up most of his face. “Maybe he can bring you a piece for your birthday next year.”

“He doesn’t even know me.”

“You can come meet him!”

The classroom door opened just as Eddie started to stand and reach for Steve’s hands to pull him up.

“There ya are, Ed! Been lookin’ everywhere. You want some ice cream?” An older man stood by the door, button up plaid shirt only half-tucked into his jeans.

“Can we bring Steve? He’s my friend.”

Steve’s head turned, shocked that Eddie would say that.

“We gotta ask his parents first, Ed.”

“His parents didn’t come.”

“Oh.” The man looked Steve up and down before seemingly settling on something. He gave a small smile and gestured for him to come closer. “What’s your favorite flavor, then?”

“I dunno. Never had anything except vanilla,” Steve admitted, afraid to look at the man who had to be Eddie’s Uncle Wayne.

“Well, that just won’t do, will it? Let’s go try every flavor at the diner. Benny just added a few new ones. Think there’s even a bubblegum one.”

Eddie clapped his hands and dragged Steve out the door by his arm.

“I bet you’ll like mint chip,” he said as Wayne followed behind them, fond smile on his face.

🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦

Steve Harrington had only cried a few times in his life, but this was the second time it was happening in front of Eddie.

Eddie wasn’t conscious this time, though.

“If you wake up, I’ll take you to the diner and we can have ice cream. They’ve got a new raspberry white chocolate flavor that you’d like. I could use some mint chip right now,” Steve said around the tears.

Wayne had left the hospital an hour ago to freshen up and grab one of his crossword puzzle books. Steve had been crying for most of that hour, holding Eddie’s hand and quietly begging him to wake up.

Two days without hearing his voice or watching his smile light up the room was too long, especially after having it for the last 13 years.

“How’re you gonna walk at graduation if you’re still asleep here, huh?” Steve closed his eyes and wiped at his cheeks.

“You can walk with me.”

Steve’s head shot up at Eddie’s quiet, but surprisingly strong voice.

“Eddie!”

“Hey, Stevie. Heard you’re takin’ me for ice cream,” Eddie’s smile was crooked, the bandage on his cheek covering one of his dimples.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except for Eddie being awake, being alive, being okay.

“Yeah, Eds. Every day if you want,” Steve wanted to crawl into the bed with him, hold him close and feel him breathing and listen to his heartbeat, be sure he was there.

“Gonna hold you to that.”

“Soon as you can leave, that’ll be our first stop. Promise.”

Eddie closed his eyes, but the smile remained on his face. “You slept?”

“A bit.”

“So no.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “A bit.”

“C’mere.”

“Honey, you’re hurt-“

“Come here.”

Steve got in bed slowly, making sure he kept space between himself and Eddie’s injuries.

“Think I’ll graduate?”

Steve snorted. “They’d be stupid to hold you back after you saved everyone.”

“Yeah. ‘M a hero. Fuck Hawkins High.”

Steve could feel more tears trickle down his cheeks, but these were different.

These were relieved tears, happy tears.

“Yeah, honey. Fuck them.”

“Love you, though.”

“Love you so much.”

[bigboobyhalo]

Foolish: We need to get Dapper back to you soon, and not just Dapper, but like almost all the eggs back to you soon ‘cause you are… not lookin’ good… like literally it just looks like I’m looking at like a past Badboyhalo, like, you’re– you’re withering away.

Bad: Y’think, Foolish?

Foolish: Yeahhh…

Bad: I mean, sometimes, when people aren’t feeling their best, Foolish, they still wanna hear someone say that they’re pretty, y’know?

Foolish: Ohhh, so—

Bad: Can you– can you say that? Can you just say “Badboyhalo, I still think you’re pretty.”

Foolish: Would it– would it help get your face off the ground?

Bad: It might.

Tina, laughing: What is happening right now…?

Foolish: Would it make Skeppy jealous?

Tina: What the fuck…?

Bad: I mean… [crosstalk] I don’t– I don’t know, but it would– it would make me a little happier.

Tina: [crosstalk] HELLO?? GUYS???

Foolish: What– what, Tina? I’m trying to console this man! What’s wrong with you?

Tina: I just– I just clocked back in– I don’t know– should I be here– [stammers] should I go? Am I supposed to leave??

Bad: Why?

Foolish: No– [breaks into laughter] Bye!

Tina: [stammers] I’ll– I’ll get out of here, [crosstalk] don’t even worry about it, I’ll— [voice quickly fades as she grappling-squoks away]

Bad: [crosstalk] Wait, why– why are you leaving? Why?

Foolish: … Y’know, Bad, under the stars, you, um… even though you’re fading from light, I think, um, there’s still a little sparkle in ya, and, y’know, maybe… maybe you do look pretty.

Bad: Oh… Well thank you, Foolish. I mean… it’s nice to hear once in a while and, y’know, hearing it from someone with as chiseled as a jawline as you have, y’know—

Foolish: Yeah…

Bad: I know it actually…

Foolish: Yeah.

Bad: … means something a lot– aww, thank you, here—

Foolish: Bring it in, bring it in.

Bad: — let me, uh, just type out– there we go, there we go…

Foolish, speaking softly: To be clear, I’m only doing this because of this unfortunate– unfortunate circumstances, and under any– almost any other circumstances, I would have not complied– in fact, I would have maybe called you an ugly piece of shit, but I’ll give you this one.

Bad: No– no, I know, Foolish, and honestly, that– that makes it even more significant.

Foolish: Yeah. Yeah, so, I’m just gonna sit back in my chair now.

Bad: Okay, go ahead…

what may very well be the sweetest moment between q!foolish and q!BBH that we’ve seen so far…

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

“𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦” - 𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚎

warnings: Rafe and reader are messy, quick to forgive, filthy, f/f/m, f/f, f/m, bisexual reader, oral male receiving, tit job, spit kink, cum play, snowballing, name calling, pet names, unprotected p in v, breakup -> makeup, first time ‘I love you’s’, reader purposefully makes Rafe jealous, pathetic!rafe, mating press, reader slaps rafe

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐭𝐨 “𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞” 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 “𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰”.

✨𝐈𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭, 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 “𝐀𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬.” 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫. 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐢 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛. 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞. 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞…✨

lightly edited

a/n: sorry, babes. I've been so sick between stomach surgery and strep this took forever but I wanted to get it out before kinkmas. I hope it’s okay. Low key kinda bad but good smut imo 💕 Sorry in advance for spelling errors and plot holes 😭

5K

Reader's POV:

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ٬ ุ๋ ⸱ ⊹ ｡✧ ﾟ˖ flashback

You had completed your midterms, confident enough to feel like you aced it after studying. You went out with friends, Rafe, pulling his group along as well. It was a huge crowd: laughing, dancing, drinking, finally relaxing after a long week of studying, but cutting loose only made him tense up more, the outfit you wore fading his smile. The things that he couldn’t get enough of at the start just seemed to be a point of concern now.

Rafe’s big arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tight like he was worried you’d slip away. He finally eased up after teasing from your friends, letting you go on the dancefloor reluctantly. Rafe’s eyes only left you to scan the crowd, making sure no one was eyeing you up. Rafe, resting bitch face, sat a little deeper, his strong arms crossed over his tight chest.

Of course, JJ took notice. Seizing the opportunity to fuck with Rafe in the simplest way possible. Merely saying, “Hey, pretty girl,” as he shuffled past the two of you, walking toward the bar to order another round, his baby blue eyes roaming your body before looking at his frat brother, greeting him smugly. The look you gave JJ could have burned a hole through that pretty boy's face; your little exchange made the corners of his lips curl up into a smirk.

Rafe was done. The night was far from over. But, all his worries about coming out to this bar, with these people, with you dressed like this, were coming true. When you got in the cab, the accusations started flying.

“Dressin’ like that in front of these boys? Are you fuckin’ kidding me right now? What the hell did you think was going to happen? Huh? Why the hell did he come over in the first place if you weren’t smilin’ at him or some shit? Did you notice the way he was lookin’ at you? Do you even fuckin’ care? No. Because you love it. Fuckin’ whore-” Your hand connected with his cheek fast and hard, sending the whole car silent.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think your talkin’ to, Rafe, but it ain’t me,” you hissed as you look up at the man before you, red-cheeked and glossy-eyed. “I wore this for you. I only care about you. If I didn’t care about you, do you think I’d be putting up with all this shit? Huh?”

“M’sorry, I called you that. Aight? But, you were doin’ just fine when you were drinkin’ with me. We were havin’ a good time-”

“Were we?” You lift your voice as he lies through his teeth. “You hated every second of that, Rafe.”

“Bullshit.”

“You held onto me like you were afraid I was gonna run away-”

”I just wanted to be with you. Okay? Your friends were pullin’ you away. Sorry for wanting to have a night out with my girlfriend-”

“You’re smothering me, Rafe.”

“Why is that a fuckin’ issue? You’re mad at me because I’m giving you attention. You’re mad because I care? You’re mad because I want you for myself. Do you hear how ridiculous you sound?”

”Do you want me to feel bad for you, Rafe? Because I don’t. You knew who I was when you started dating me. I’m not some girl that’ll stand by you and look pretty. I won’t apologize for dressing like a woman and wanting to have some fun.”

“So you don’t have any fun with me. Is that what I’m hearing? Am I not giving you enough attention? You gotta dress like this and get it from someone else?”

“What?”

”’Cause if that’s what you were tryin’ to do, Princess. You succeed. M’sure JJ’s gonna be strokin’ his shit thinkin’ about you.”

“JJ?” You ask tiredly. “You think I dressed like this for Maybank? Are you kidding me?”

”M’Not.”

”5th and Main,” you call out to the driver. “Can you stop at 5th and Main first? Please?”

”Nah. Nah. Fuck that-”

”Fuck that? Fuck you,” you snap as your frustration bubbles over. “If you think I’m going back to the frat with you, you’re crazy.”

“I AM fuckin’ crazy. Jesus fuck. She’s not goin’ home,” Rafe shouts at you, then the driver.

“Pull over the car,” you level your voice.

“Don’t,” Rafe challenges him through the rearview mirror. The driver pulls over regardless, making Rafe let out a growl of frustration, pushing open the door before the vehicle can even roll to a complete stop.

You climb out of the car, two blocks away from your place, wrapping your arms tightly around your waist as you bound toward your place. Tears gather in your eyes, hazing your vision. You hear a step of big feet walking behind you, making your anger swell inside.

“Go away, Rafe.”

“You’re not walkin’ home alone. If you’re going to be a fuckin’ brat and not talk to me, I don’t give a fuck. If you think lettin’ you walk alone downtown on a Friday night, you’re fucking delusional.”

“Asshole,” you grumble.

“Ungratful fucking bitch. Jesus Christ,” he mumbles.

“Oh yeah, Rafe?” You call back as you turn on your heels, walking toward him fast, making his eyes double as he catches the outrage in your eyes. “Call me a fuckin’ bitch one more time and see what happens.” You step in, shoving him back, making him scoff and suck his teeth.

“‘See what happens?’” He laughs weakly. “‘See what happens, princess?’ You fuckin’ serious right now?” He asks as he looks down at you in irritation.

“Can only say that shit when I have my back turned, fuckin’ pussy.”

“You’re drunk,” he scoffs.

“I should be, Rafe! I should be drunk right now. I should be drinkin’ and dancin’ with you and my friends. I should be dragging you off the dancefloor because I can’t take my hands off you. I shouldn’t be fightin’ with you right now. I deserve to be happy. I deserve to have someone who makes me feel secure. Your insecurity is bringin’ the both of us down.”

“I’m not insecure-”

”The fuck you aren’t,” you cut him off as you turn and walk away. “I need space.”

“Space? This isn’t high school. The fuck do you need space for? You either want me or you don’t.”

“I want you, Rafe. I don’t want whoever the fuck this is,” you sneer.

“You walk away from me, and we’re fuckin’ done. All right?”

“Done? So, a break isn’t an option. You can even let me have space; it's just one or the other.”

“If you liked me, sweetheart, that wouldn’t be a fuckin’ worry of yours. Hey, where the hell are you goin’?” He barks as you press toward your place. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Obviously.” You scoff before looking back, watching his beautiful blue eyes glisten under the streetlight— the man biting his cheek and flaring his nostrils to hold back his tears between controlled breaths.

“You’re such a bitch. You know that?” He asks, barely able to press the words past his quivering lips.

“Yeah, Rafe? A bitch you couldn’t handle. I’ve been me since the start… The only person that changed is you.”

Rafe lowers his head, nodding, accepting defeat for the moment, or maybe he’s planning his next dig. Either way, you were done. You turn around, walking toward your place, climbing the stairs before back at him. His eyes are still on you, making sure you’re safe before rubbing the tears of frustration out of his eyes and pulling out his phone.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ٬ ุ๋ ⸱ ⊹ ｡✧ ﾟ˖ the blue flame…

“What should the caption be?” You ask with a devilish smile as you lay back on the couch, fingers hovering over your phone as Cali taps her chin, thinking of something that would piss Rafe off the most.

“Something simple. I don’t think it’s going to take a lot.” You laugh at her understatement of the century. Drumming your fingers, you play around with a few captions yourself as Cali workshops her own while dusting on some setting powder in the mirror. “Miss me?”

“Hmm… I mean, I want him to think I’m unbothered.”

“You are unbothered.”

“For sure,” you sigh.

”Umm… What about ‘she’s back and hotter than ever?’ I can send it to my account. You’ll look completely unbothered, which you are-“

“Completely,” you laugh as you let her do your dirty work.

“Sent,” she looks up at you with a smile.

“Ahh!” You squeal as you see the notification come in, and before you can even open the post to double-tap, he’s there…

Picture liked by: Rafe Cameron

You tilt into the mirror, the bright lights of the vanity casting a warm glow on your face as you slick on some shimmery gloss. You take out your perfume, spritzing on your signature scent. Turning to the side you check your reflection, seeing a very different woman than before, one you hadn’t seen in a while. Your curves are dressed in pink lace lingerie purchased by Rafe, a matching bubble gum-colored wig on your head, styled just right.

Cali breezes past; her energy, infectious. Deja vu sets in as she presses a quick kiss on your cheek. “Old times, baby,” she sings as her eyes sparkle with excitement.

“Old times,” you coo as you give her a little turn in your Pleaser heels.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she hums. “You’re about to ruin that man’s life.” She gestures toward the stage, widening your eyes as you put two and two together.

“He’s here?” You ask, biting back an anxious smile.

“First one in the house, baby doll.” She struts toward you, pulling you in for a hug, grounding you in the moment as your thoughts race away. This isn’t just about dancing and games; it’s about reclaiming my space, my confidence, who I was before I met him too… “Let him know who he lost. Huh?” She looks back at you lovingly as she brushes your hair into place.

You walk toward the stage, heart thudding with excitement, wig bouncing with every leggy stride. Shit. You look through the slight gap in the curtain, seeing Rafe from afar. His eyes are locked on his phone as a girl dances before him, paying her no attention. He looks up, making your stomach fall as his eyes set on yours; he blinks a few times to ensure he’s seeing this just right as the music shifts.

Rafe swallows thickly, adjusting in his seat uneasily, looking around at his frat brothers to clock where their attention is paid. You step out onto the stage, feeling yourself in your element again. Avoiding his eye contact, you glance around the dim room, pulling attention from every corner as you approach the beat. Cheers and whistles fill the space—a familiar chorus of sounds that have you smiling through the pressure.

You can feel the burn of Rafe’s gaze, heavy and intense, but you choose to ignore it as you step toward the end of the stage; toward the pole—toward Rafe and his brothers.

Shifting to your knees, you crawl to his frat brother, watching from the corner of your eye as Rafe’s expressions changes. The tension between the two of you is thick. “Holy shit,” the other boy groans as you roll to your back, hands working up your body, toiling over the pink set that your ex bought you. You roll away, moving toward the pole, feeling the pull of Rafe still as you step away.

You grab the bar and flick your hair back to the beat drop, feeling the music pulse through you as you start to find your rhythm. “Y/n?” That same boy gossips to the boys next to him, the news spreading like wildfire a second later.

“Ain’t that your ex, Rafey?” You hear JJ chime in and feel your first sting of regret. “Just fuckin’ killin’ it. Aren’t you, princess?” He continues to needle as the rest of the boys pile on. Rafe’s brothers hoop and holler as he throws daggers at the group—his stare looking like it could fuckin’ kill.

And in that moment you can’t help but think back to the fight you had with Rafe, the one where he called ‘a fuckin’ whore’. The one where he questioned your loyalty to him, spouting off that you might be doing this all for the very boy who’s praising you now. That little ‘hey, pretty girl’ JJ said in passing just to grind his gears seemed ludicrous now. That slight sting of regret quickly soothed by the balm of pleasure.

Grabbing the pole, you spin around it with slight work, the spotlight shining as you danced. The crowd cheered louder and louder as the expression on Rafe’s face pulled darker and darker. His anger only fueling your performance.

“Take it all,” one of the boys cheers, tossing cash like rain. You turn around, smiling at the man on the opposite side of Rafe, thanking him with a look as you work lower and lower. The brunette moves forward, tucking a fifty-dollar bill in your bra strap with a smile. “For you, baby,” he hums in a smooth, inviting voice as the crowd roars. Rafe’s frat brother leans in closer, and so do you, lowering his voice slightly. “I’m reserving the champagne room, and I want you and only you. Alright?”

“What?” You ask with a curious tip of your head, playing innocent, but you heard him loud and clear.

“The champagne room. You and me,” he calls a little louder with a wicked smirk plastered on his lips. You smile at him, not agreeing or disagreeing, watching as Rafe pushes to his feet before your eyes can even turn to his— a mix of regret and helplessness as he shoves his way through the thick crowd toward the bar as your song closes out.

You crash down on the couch and pull out your phone, pounting your lip, half-expecting some message from Rafe. Nothing… You open Instagram, scanning Cali’s page, checking the post.

Rafe Cameron: My beautiful girl

Warmth floods through your body, butterflies swirling in your stomach. He could have sent a nasty DM telling you to take it down; he could have cursed out all the thirsty commenters, but he chose this route. My girl… Not at the moment, but your heart melted at his words.

“You saw it too?” Cali asks teasingly.

“Mhmm…” You admit, biting back your giddy smile.

“And, how does that make you feel, beautiful girl? Swooning?”

You chuckle and nod, feeling your cheeks burn from your smile. “A little.”

Before you can say anymore, the stage manager pops her head through the door. “Ladies, one of those boys reserved the champagne room. He specifically requested the both of you.” Your stomach turns, thinking about Rafe’s frat brother’s offer and the thought of him making good on his word.

The idea of dancing on the stage was one thing… Dancing privately? That would not happen. Not if I ever wanted to work things out with Rafe.

“Umm,” your friend hums uneasily from the other end of the room, picking up on the same thing.

“You two in or are you out? The guy who reserved the champagne room paid a lot to buy his brother out. He’s got it reserved until the bar close.” The anxiety you felt is snuffed out in an instant, a surge of happiness courses through you the next. Rafe. You nod excitedly as Cali rises on her heels as the night changes.

You take a deep breath, walking toward the Champagne Room, heart pounding with the bass. You look toward the stage, all of the boys long gone. Maybe they’re all in there? You step toward the curtain, hearing the glass clinking as a drink’s poured.

Cali grabs the curtain, pulling it back, drawing a wave of relief with it. You see your handsome ex sitting behind the table with three glasses of champagne drawn, thankful you only had to share him with Cali. You smile at him, watching the tension in his shoulders physically fall as he sees your expression, the man not knowing what to expect; the moment reminiscent of your first night together, how excited you were to climb into the hot tub with him.

“Hey, baby,” he grins, his voice deep and warm—eyes never leaving yours. Your heart swells at the sound of his voice. “This alright?” He asks, still giving you control of the situation, a genuine tone letting you know he was still giving you an out if this isn’t something you wanted to deal with. If you no longer wanted this… If you no longer wanted him.

“Mhmm,” you hum as you walk closer with Cali.

“I wanted to make sure you both felt comfortable,” he replies, glancing briefly at her before returning his focus to you. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured, especially since we’re… you know, figuring things out.”

“The entire night, Cameron?” Cali cuts in teasingly as she climbs on the table.

“Couldn’t take any risks,” Rafe sighs blissfully, watching you grab her hand to step on the table. The song changes overhead, filling the space around you.

Your heart pounds and you and Cali move in perfect harmony, bodies flowing and swaying to the music as if you’d never left. You catch his gaze again, causing a rush of adrenaline to course through your system. You can see the adoration in his eyes and the smile playing on his lips with every stolen glimpse.

He can't take his eyes off of you, that feeling that you lost coming back to you fast. You twirl and spin around the pole, catching your ex’s broad expression—a mixture of awe and lust. Rafe’s had more lap dances than he could count, but he’s never seen you like this.

As the song shifts, the beat transforms into something slower, the vibe in the room shifting to match the rhythm. You climb to your knees, crawling toward Rafe just as you did to his brother before. He smiles and shakes his head, leaning in as you draw nearer. The air between you, charged; tension thick, begging to be cut.

In one swift motion, he reaches for you, tugging you off the table and onto his lap, making you gasp as you settle into his embrace. The warmth of his body envelopes you, his rich cologne muddling your senses. “Princess. You’re killin’ me,” he groans, in a voice low and needy; his hold firm yet gently—the perfect cocktail.

“We just started, Rafey,” you whisper against his lips.

“Before we go any further, you gotta know how sorry I am, baby.”

“I know,” you whisper earnestly. “I know, Rafe.” You stare back into his pretty blue eyes, watching them shimmer under the neon club lights just like they had the week before when he was fighting back the tears like he is right now, but this time, he looks a little more hopeful. “Let’s have a little fun tonight. We can talk about it later. Yeah?” You echo those exact words you said to him on the first night you were together, making him chuckle and smile, feeling it too.

“Whatever you want. I’m down.”

“Atta boy.”

His hands hold onto your waist, letting loose enough for you to turn, pressing your back against his broad chest and your heels firmly planted on the ground, not wanting to let go now that he has you close.

Rafe’s big hands rest against the fullness of your thighs, moving higher, playing with the hem of your panties before skimming your stomach, resting on your tits. You grab his wrists, lifting his hands, and he doesn’t fight you, knowing he’s getting away with murder already, given the situation. “What does the sign say, baby boy?” Cali asks mockingly. Rafe’s head falls back on the back of the booth as he lets out a sleazy laugh. Rafe follows your lead, tucking his hands under his thighs.

“No touchin’.”

“No touchin’, Cameron,” you smile. You roll your body into him as Cali steps down from the table. Your curves push into him, each grind and roll making him sweep for a breath. "Remember this, Daddy?" You whisper against his ear in a taunting hum, feeling as his heartbeat racing against your back.

He turns toward you, tucking himself in your neck, chuckling warmly, his voice fanning against your skin as you hook your hand around, clutching him for support, manicured nails scratching into his hair at the nape of his neck. “You feel how hard I am right now, doll? Been thinkin’ about this shit every night. ‘Course I remember.”

“Look at you bein’ a good boy,” Cali praises as Rafe keeps his hands to himself, his jaw clenched tight as he tries to keep himself in check.

“Tryin’ Cals…” He soughs as his eyes fall down your body, picturing you riding him just like this. “Fuck, baby. You looked amazing up there,” Rafe praises as you swivel your ass on top of him. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

“Our girl always looks good,” Cali coos as she hooks her finger under your chin, guiding your lips to hers. Cali leans in, her mouth barely grazing over yours, turning it into a soft, lingering kiss. “Just give me the word, and I’m out,” she smiles along your lips, her sultry voice gentle, for your ears only.

“Thank you, Cals,” you hum, watching Rafe shift closer, hoping you’ll invite him in too. You pull back slightly, glancing at Rafe, catching the heat in his stare. He swallows hard, every inch of him screaming with desire, muscles flexed to keep his hands at bay, fully lost in the moment. You look back at Cali, cocking your head slightly, nodding at Rafe, a secret conversation shared between the two of you.

"What are you two doing? Huh?" He asks through a breathy laugh, feigning innocence, but his dark, lust-hazed stare says the complete opposite.

"Just making sure you're comfortable," you smile as you cup his cheeks. Rafe melts into your touch as you lean in, the man humming as you kiss the corner of his mouth. Rafe chases your lips as you pull away; lashes fluttering open as your hands fall down his body. You pop each button open, feeling the moment's thrill intensify with each peek of tanned skin. "Look at you," you whisper desperately as you eye the man before you.

“So handsome,” Cali mumbles as she pushes your hair off your shoulder, kissing along your neck.

"More comfortable now," Rafe quips, reveling in your playful teasing. His broad, muscular chest rises and falls with his quick breathing.“Fuck… Ya’ll aren't doin’ this for everyone? Right?” He pants with a joking bite as his eyes follow you.

You roll your eyes and smile as you play with the hardware of Rafe’s belt as Cali toys with the clasps of your lingerie, peeling the lace off your skin before grabbing your tits. “Only for you.”You lower his zipper; Rafe quickly takes his cue, fighting his jeans off his thighs as he watches Cali’s hands and lips caress you. Rafe pulls his boxers down, fat cock painfully hard, smacking his toned stomach with an upward curve.

You reach for him, guiding him where to sit, pulling him to the edge of the seat. Wrapping your fingers around his long dick you stroke him nice and slow with your hands as Cali gathers your hair from behind, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail, the sight making the big frat boy’s eyes roll back in his skull.

You swirl your tongue around his pulsing head, taking a few shallow, teasing bobs that has his abs flexing tight. You drag off his cock, leaving behind a wet mess, saliva strung from his red tip to your pillowy lips. “So beautiful. Fucking hell, sweetheart. More… Give it to me,” he groans drunkenly as you move even closer, resting his girthy dick between your breasts. Cali reaches around your body, pushing your plush tits around him, making him suck his bottom lip between his teeth.

His hooded eyes finally leave yours, falling down your perfect body, landing where his throbbing cock lay nestled between you. “Fuck me, Rafe.”

“Oh, fuck,” Rafe moans in reply; forearms and biceps flexing as he quickly pitches his hips upward, fucking himself with your tits. He moans like a fucking pornstar, panting and huffing as he uses your body like a toy.

Precum beads at the tip of his cock, rolling down the side before coating his length as he continues to stroke. You lay out your tongue for him, looking for a little more, and without being told, he smiles down at you devilishly, tilting in just enough to spit in your mouth. The wet drips off your tongue, falling between your breasts onto his cock. Cali jiggles your tits, playing a cruel game with him, making his thick thighs clench under your hold.

"Just killin’ me… C’mon," Rafe moans, still using your breasts to stroke his length. “Gonna cum. Where do you want it, princess?”

“In our mouths,” you smile, making him let out your name through a shaky breath. The two of you move on either side of his trembling body, gliding your tongues up the side of his long, thick dick to the tip.

“Fuckkkk,” he curses and groans, releasing his arms from under his thighs to grip the back of the leather bench as your tongues swirl together, teasing the tip of his cock again and again until he’s cumming in spurts, the two of you catching his load on your lips and tongue continuing to kiss eachother as you wrap your fingers around his dick, coaxing out the last bit of his release.

Cali reaches over, pinching your cheeks, snowballing his cum into your mouth. Smiling at you as you swallow it all, cleaning off your pouty bottom lip with her thumb.

Rafe loses all control, reaching for you and pulling you toward his lips. Your mouths crash together, your heart fluttering with warmth at his softness and familiar taste that has shivers falling down your spine. With each swirl and flick of your tongue against his leaves, you feel like you could float away.

He slows his pace, wrapping his strong arm around your body, pulling you into him, his dewy skin clinging to yours. “Can we have a minute, Cals,” Rafe mumbles against your lips. Her heels click against the floor, already at the curtain, smiling delightedly for you and him, giving you a little wink before slipping out.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers just above the thump of the music, his deep voice laced with raw vulnerability. “I was… I don’t even have the right words for how stupid I was. My jealousy. I know it was out of control. I just… I was jealous, especially when I saw other guys looking at you. I was scared of losing you.”

“I never gave you a reason to worry, Rafe…”

“I know, princess. I never wanted to make you feel like I didn’t trust you or make you feel suffocated. I see now how unfair I was being. I was lettin’ my insecurity get the better of me. You were right, baby.” The regret is clear, painted all over his handsome face. His broad shoulders slump at the weight of his regret; his forehead tilts against yours. “Called you some awful shit too…”

“You did…”

“Please, forgive me,” he begs. “I just need you in my life. You make everything better. I’ll treat you right. Yeah? Just please.”

“I forgive you, baby-”

“Need you to say it,” he whispers. “Tell me you're my mine.”

“I’m your yours.”

“God, that sounds so fuckin’ good,” he drawls, his voice thick like honey. “You mean everything to me. I'm not perfect. Clearly… We both know that, but I’m not going to fuck up like I did. I promise. Okay? You mean too much to me.”

“Okay, baby,” you smile warmly as your forehead rests against his.

“You know, I love you.”

You brush your thumbs along his cheeks, relishing those sweet words he's never said before. "I love you too," you whisper back, trembling with excitement and emotion.

“Yeah?” He asks happily as he pulls you in a little closer, elated, somehow worried you wouldn’t say it back.

“Mhmm… I love you, baby,” you mumble against his lips.

“I love you, princess… So much. Holy shit,” he groans as he buries himself in your neck, hugging you tight. “Worst fuckin’ week of my life, baby—Missed you. Fuck, I missed you, pretty girl. N’shit… I forgot how filthy you are,” he teases as he kisses along your neck, tickling your sides, making you squirm away, but he’s just too strong.

“Rafe, stop,” you scold through a giggle. He pulls back, relaxing in the booth, beckoning you with his stare as he licks his perfect lips. “Maybe I am… But you fuckin’ love it,” you smile as you tilt closer with each word that falls from your tongue.

“I’m a slut for you. That shit’s clear, princess.”

“Crystal clear,” you whisper as your lips brush him gently. Rafe lifts his hand, flicking his wrist, catching the time on his watch.

“Got an hour left, pretty,” he smiles as his big hands move lower, playing with the hem of your panties. You rise on your heels, letting the man pull your lingerie over your curves. He kisses your skin, lingering as the pink lace falls around your ankles.

“I’m all yours,” you breathe as he pulls you back onto his lap.

You suck in a breath as he cups your wet pussy in his big hand before curling two fingers, easing them inside you slowly as your head falls back. "That's it… Just take it, baby,” he groans, working them in and out of you at the perfect pace.

You lean forward, wrapping your hands around his neck, panting into his warm neck as he curls his fingers inside you, rolling his big thumb on your clit. Your pussy squelches with each push of his hand, making him release a hungry moan. Rafe lifts you effortlessly, laying you on your back, burying himself between your thighs, lips locking on your puffy clit. Your hips buck, but he strong-arms you, pinning your hips in place, lapping at your cunt.

“Rafe… Please,” you whimper, teetering on the edge of ecstasy as he plunges his tongue in your greedy hole, throwing you over the edge. Your fingers twist into his carmel-colored strands, tugging as your pleasure releases, pulsing around his tongue as he brushes his fingers quickly; Rafe moaning into your pussy between breaths.

Your body melts into the booth, hips rocking into him as his tongue dances, kisses, and drags through your soaked folds. He lets out a raspy, satisfied chuckle as he crawls closer, jerking his cock in his big fist before pressing it against your glossy hole. You reach for a breath, tears of pleasure soaking your cheeks already, looking up at the man who has no intention to stop ‘til you properly fucked out.

You gasp as he thrusts into you roughly, knocking the breath out of your chest. “Finally, princess… Mpfhh. Fuckin’ missed this shit,” he croons as he hooks your legs over his wide shoulders, pressing his weight into you to see how deep he can get.

“Fuck, Daddy,” you whimper, eyes rolling back as he drags his cock out before before thrusting deep again. Your clear heels clack with every snap of his hips; Rafe, hitting all the right spots, making you see stars.

“You like this shit, princess. Love bein’ stuffed full of me. Huh?”

“Yes. Yes, Fuck.” You whine as he punctuates your words with a rough thrust.

Rafe switches positions, grabbing your wrists, pinning them above your head with a single hand. He uses the other to clasp your chin, guiding your lips to his. His tongue slides along yours, hints of your arousal and his melting together, along with the sweetness of his lips, leaving you whimpering against his mouth. “Just pullin’ me in,” he grunts as your body swallows him up.

“Rafe… Fuck. Shit,” You whine as he snakes his other hand up, fingers interlocking with yours.

"Me too, princess," he whispers against your lips, toned hips speeding up, chasing his orgasm and yours.

Just like that, your body lets go, heels digging into the leather seat, hands squeezing Rafe’s tightly as your wet walls pulse around his thick length; Rafe fills you with white ropes of cum as he pushes his load deeper and deeper ‘til all that’s left is panting breathes and ‘I love you’s.’

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ٬ ุ๋ ⸱ ⊹ ｡✧ ﾟ˖

tags: @loserboysandlithium @rafesthroatbaby @kisses4angels @watchmerora @babygorewhore @buckybarnessweetheart @anamiad00msday @littlelamy @namelesslosers @cades-outsider @romaescapes @starkeysprincess @oxpogues4lifexo @unrealmirrorball @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl @lhhlver @rrafeswhore @slut-4-gojo

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

On Crystal Waters

AKA On Silk Sheets Part Two. (The pirate!au.) Or you don't feel like you belong in your husband's new life, but good luck convincing him of that. No smut in this one, but there is suggestive dialogue. ~2.5k words

It's not that you regret sleeping with your husband, it's more of the fact you didn't quite think it all the way through. Yes, you missed him. Yes, you might even still love him. But, he's built an entire life for himself without you.

You've seen it the past two weeks, the way he seamlessly works with his crew, how maneuvering about his ship is second nature. It makes you feel out of place. Even if you've slowly come to learn the names of the other pirates, it doesn't change the feeling that you're a piece of his past.

You can't help but wonder if you're even more than someone to warm his bed. The restless anxieties draw you to the deck just before dawn, unable to sleep even with him next to you. You're surprised he doesn't wake, but it makes it easier, allowing you a moment to your thoughts. It's nice, to watch the sun start to peak over the horizon, to see land slowly drawing closer. The quiet doesn't last long.

"We'll be docking soon."

You turn, eyes fixating on one of the pirates, Roy, you think, "Which port is this?"

He settles next to you at the railing, "Star Port, unless Jason changes his mind. He's been cautious since the navy ship tried to chase us down."

You sigh softly, the memory of cannons and shouting and swords being drawn flashing in your mind, "What's it like?"

"Star Port?" Roy replies cheerily, "you'll like it. Lively markets, great taverns, and nice views for a port city. Easy to get lost in, though, lots of winding alleys. Best stick close to someone."

"I'll keep that in mind," You murmur, eyes trailing back to the distant port.

"Something botherin' you, Sweetheart?"

"Are you looking to hear my secrets, Harper?" You drawl, idly tapping the wooden railing.

He huffs a laugh, "Have you got someone better to spill them to? I'm the closest thing you have to a friend at the moment, so spill away."

You tut, side eyeing him, "There's no need to rub it in. I'm well aware I'm alone on a pirate ship with complete strangers, an estranged husband, and not one person loyal to me."

He chuckles and shrugs at you, an easy going smile painting his face, "I'm going to take that as a no, and will take my place as the closest person you've got to call your friend. Congratulations, sweetheart, we both should be honored."

You raise a hand to your head and fake a swoon. It's nice, to joke around with someone like this after weeks of uncertainty and walking on eggshells, "my closest friend, here to console me over my husband moving on."

"Is that what's got you so down?" Roy asks curiously, and you curse yourself for letting it out, "The Captain's a right mess when it comes to ya. Lovesick, obsessed, head over feet, whatever you wanna call it."

You sigh and focus back on the city growing larger and larger, "He has other things now."

Roy leans closer and bumps his arm with yours, "Cheer up, sweetheart, you're with us now. You're family too. And you got Jason chasing after you like a dog. That bastard won't let anything happen to ya. He'll move the sun stars for you. So don't worry yourself over anything, the only thing you have to be concerned about is your captain's love sickness. We'll take care of the rest."

You falter over his words, throat tightening, "Why?"

"Why what?" He asks, raising a brow and giving you an incredulous look, "Why are we lookin' out for you? Why do we have your back already? Because that's what we do. Family has each other's backs. That includes you. You're one of us now. Whether you like it or not."

His words are a stark reminder, Jason's crew is nothing like you expected from a pirate lords ship. But Jason hasn't exactly matched up to the tales of 'Red Hood ' either. "A family," you breathe out.

Roy nods, "Don't get me wrong, sweetheart. Jason's as ruthless as he's cold, knows how to take his pound of flesh. I've seen him beat his enemies senseless with just his fists, but he's saved each and every one of us. We're loyal to him, and he's loyal to us."

You take in the information slowly, "It's... good. That he's loved."

"Loved ones way to put," Roy agrees, "crew practically worships the ground he walks on." He eyes you for a moment, "Does it bother you? Knowing that everyone here cares about him?"

You shake your head, "No. I know he made a life for himself without me. It's– I'm glad he wasn't alone."

Roy looks baffled. "That's not what I was expecting, lass."

"I do want what's best for him," You mumble, "even if best doesn't include me. I don't want him to be alone. And he's easy to love. I'm not surprised he built a new life."

"You care for him more than I thought you did," he admits, a bittersweet smile on his face, "I'd hope my wife still loved me too, even if we weren't next to each other anymore."

You wince, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You don't need to bottle it up. You're allowed to feel, allowed to let it out and talk about what you're going through. I'm glad to listen," Roy tells you steadily, patting your shoulder.

You offer him a small smile, "It's nice to have someone listen."

"You know the captain would listen, too. I know it's hard to talk to him about him, but he'd give you anything you asked. Hell, you could ask him to go swim in shark and jellyfish infested waters butt naked and he'd do it. No questions."

You laugh, "What a silly thing to ask for. I think I'll just stick to asking to visit the market."

"I'm serious, sweetheart, you could say you wanted him to jump off the side of the ship and he'd ask what side. You have no idea how much he adores you. Just wait and see. The only answer you'll get from him is, 'Yes, love.' Probably clear out the whole treasury on whatever you set your sights on," Roy drawls, grin widening with each word.

You hum thoughtfully, "I suppose that sounds like him."

He laughs, "Don't get me wrong, Captain's a tough guy. Smart, clever, strong as an ox and meaner than a crocodile with a toothache, but it all goes away 'round you. Turns right into a pup with no brains at all when you're near."

You can't help but laugh with him, "Sounds like a bit of an exaggeration."

He grins brightly at you, "Hardly, sweetheart. Why, he'll probably cause a whole scene when he wakes you and you're not there. You know, storm around the ship, calling your name, shoutin' at the top of his lungs and scaring half the crew into thinking there's a monster on board. It'll be quite the show."

You shoot a look towards the captains quarters, "He wouldn't, right? There's nowhere for me to go but his ship."

"Ah, he's the dramatic type. Wouldn't put it past him to go into a frenzy over not finding you in his bed," Roy teases, crossing his arms lazily over his chest.

"Maybe I should go back," You murmur, worry crossing your face.

Roy pats your shoulder, "No need. Captains not an idiot, after all. He'll come out here lookin' for you soon enough."

You sigh, slumping against the railing as the ship draws closer to port, "If you say so."

He laughs, "Speak of the devil. Look who's coming to join us."

You don't bother to turn and look as Roy offers a cheeky 'morning' to your husband on his way off to prepare for docking. You hear a sleepy grunt in response before two strong arms wrap around your waist, tugging you back from the railing into a broad chest.

You make a noise of protest, but Jason only holds you tighter, nuzzling his face to your shoulder, "Coulda woke me up, darlin', if you wanted to go on deck."

"You were sleeping. And I was making friends with your crew," You answer, shifting his grip, "You should be happy about that, you know"

"I am happy you're making friends. But Harper? Out of my whole crew, you pick Harper? You just had to choose the one crew member who's most likely to encourage you to do something stupid," Jason grumbles into your neck.

You tilt your head slightly, letting his lips ghost over your skin, "He didn't offer any particularly encouraging ideas, Jason."

"Really?" He asks, disbelieving, "No cunning escape plans?"

"He's too loyal to you to help me with that, I think," you answer mindlessly. Escape plans. It's not like you have anything concrete. You only threatened to jump off the ship a few times. And you don't even know if you want to leave. But the thought persists that it might be better. Better for him. That both of you have changed too much to work. That you don't fit as a pirate's spouse.

Jason hums in approval, "Good."

"Oh, Jason?" You start, turning in his arms to face him, "I'd like to go to the market today. I don't– I didn't get to grab anything when we– uh– left."

"Of course, darlin'," Jason agrees easily, pressing a kiss to your hair, "whatever you need."

"I don't have any money," You continue, hesitant, "But I could–"

"You don't need it," Jason cuts you off firmly, "Anything I have is yours. The finest silk, the purest gold, the most sparkling jewels, all of it. We're married, pretty. You're my partner. I want to take care of you. Okay?"

"Okay," You echo, too stunned to argue. But that's exactly like him, the man who risked the sea again and again to bring home finer and better things to you.

He grins, bright eyes leaving you to focus on the growing number of crew members on deck, “Looks like my crew’s finally waking up. About time to dock, it looks like. Get excited, love. You’re in for a treat. This port’s a party. We’ll have no problem finding some fun and whatever you want to buy here." He lets go of your waist to grab your hand, pulling it up for a kiss, "Perhaps you'll let me buy you a new ring while we're on land."

"A new ring?" You question, somewhat distracted but the shouts and noises from the crew as they prepare to dock, "Shouldn't you be helping them?"

Jason's shrugs, amused, "The crew can run themselves. They've docked enough times that it's like clockwork to them. And yes, love, a new ring. One fitting of a pirate lord's partner."

You study him, "They do call you that, don't they?"

He practically beams, voice going light and teasing, "You've heard? The crew of The Outlaw are somewhat of a legend. They tell tales of my skill with a sword. My prowess in battle. My strength and power. My sheer terror. They shiver at the mention of my name."

You laugh, tone skeptical, despite knowing the truth. He has his reputation for a reason, "Is that so?"

"Do you doubt me, my love?" Jason drawls, shifting closer to you, "Do you doubt your husband's skill? His prowess? Do I not impress you enough, darling?"

You tut, "Forgive me if I'm more interested in a new port than I am my husband's tall tales."

He flashes a faux hurt look, his hand pressed dramatically to his chest as he replies with a mock-offended tone, "Oh, I see how it is. You prefer the port to my tales. You'd prefer to explore a new port than hear about my latest adventure. I know how it is. My own spouse prefers a new port to my tales of triumph."

You can't help but grin at him, he looks so much like the person you married in this moment, "I'm sure you can regale me with stories once we're back out at sea."

"Oh, I plan to, treasure," he reaches up to trace your face, "I plan to share everything with you."

You open your mouth to answer, though you're not sure with what, when you're cut off by Roy, "Captain, should we drop the gang plank?"

Jason grins, and takes your hand, pulling you towards the plank, "Aye, Harper. We're going to buy out the entire market for my love today. Make sure our favorite tavern is prepared with enough ale for tonight. We're going to celebrate."

"Those are orders I'll be happy to follow, captain," Roy chirps back, motioning to the crew to drop the plank.

"What would you like to get first, love," Jason questions, tilting his head towards you.

"Books. Clothes that are easier to move in. A cloak. Hair pins," You list off, eager to get off the ship after so many days at sea.

"Practical," Jason mumbles, nodding to his crew as he guides you to shore, "I offer to buy you the world and you desire leathers."

"I can't wear silks, lace and ribbons around your ship," You protest, eyes darting excitedly around the docks.

"Perhaps not, love, but you can wear them in our bed," Jason answers, his hand leaving yours so he can grab your waist, pulling you to his side as he walks.

You go to swat lightly at him, to tease him for being vulgar, but you falter when you look up at him. His face is set, eyes trailing over the crowd of rugged sailors on the dock. He looks hard. Threatening. Like the pirate lord he is. "I- yes. Maybe I will," You stumble out instead, unable to get the thought out of your head that you don't quite match him now. That you look wrong by his side.

"Are you alright, love?" Jason asks, and when you look up at him, his eyes are on you, softer. Something you recognize.

"Yes, just overwhelmed, I suppose," it's only half of a lie.

"We'll stop at one of the tailors I know first. She's dressed my crew more times than I can count," he says, reassuring, "if it gets too much, we'll go rest at the tavern."

"We're not staying on the ship?" You question, curious.

"Mm. Not tonight, love. I'd like to have you in a bed that isn't rocking," Jason drawls, shooting you a sly grin.

"You're insatiable," You breathe out, eyes darting to see if anyone's heard.

"Only for you, darling," he replies cheekily, arm steady around your waist as he guides you towards the shop.

You follow him, there's nothing else you could dream of doing in the moment. But the whispers of the crowd plague your every step. And the question that's haunted you every day since he stole you from that ball resurfaces, 'should you be at his side?'

Part Three | More Headcannons

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 7,252 (oof, this one got long!)

Pairing: Negan Smith x Reader

Reader pronouns: largely unspecified (but Negan does refer to reader as doll and darling which could be considered more feminine terms of endearment)

Warnings: language haha, frightening scenarios, references to past violence

Summary: Months have now passed since Y/N began taking on Negan as a "project" and the reader suggests an even longer run outside the walls.

A/N: This is part of a series! Find all the parts on the Negan Master List.

Previous Part here!

“It’s been months,” you said. “There hasn’t been a single time that I’ve felt unsafe, and both of you know I never let my guard down.”

Daryl was leaning up against the wall beside the door, his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was serious but largely unreadable. Michonne leaned forward on the table, considering your words.

“We need to think long-term here. Are we just going to keep him locked up forever? Or is there some version of this where he gets out and either integrates as much as possible or—or goes on his way?”

Michonne sighed and shook her head. “I’m not sure any of us have the answer to that yet,” she said.

“I know. I still don’t,” you said. “I’m not sure what the future looks like for him, but I know we have to do more than just letting him out to pick tomatoes every once in a while. So, that’s what I’m doing. And with you two stuck here dealing with the wall and the kids—and the pantry and medical supplies starting to run low, well… let’s kill two birds with one stone.”

Daryl sighed and straightened up. “I ain’t gonna say I like it, but I trust ya and I’ve seen your judgment play out too many times to doubt it. If ya think it’ll be alrigh’, then—well, ‘m good with it. But ya gotta show us exactly where you’ll be and when to expect ya back in case we need to come lookin’.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll mark it all on the map. We should be able to make it out and back in a single long day. Leave early. Get back late.”

“And no weapons for him unless it’s an absolute emergency,” Michonne emphasized.

“Of course,” you agreed.

“Alright,” Michonne nodded. “When will you go?”

“Tomorrow,” you said. “I’ll get everything ready today.”

“I’ll walk ya out,” Daryl drawled, watching as you grabbed your bag and shouldered it. “Listen—” he started.

You looked over at him and smiled, already knowing you were about to get a worried Daryl Dixon lecture. “Mhm?” you prompted him.

“The hell are ya smirkin’ about?” he growled, his brow furrowing.

“Nothing,” you laughed. “Go ahead.”

“Well—if somethin’ happens out there… if it comes down to you or him…” he trailed off.

Your brow furrowed deeply now to match his. “It won’t,” you said seriously.

He shifted anxiously. “But if it does…”

“Daryl. It’s not going to,” you insisted.

He nodded, pulling back. “Wish I could go with ya… I’d feel better about it.”

He relented and nodded, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Okay. C’mere.” He pulled you into a hug and you smiled as he folded you up against him. “I just want ya to be safe, is all.”

“I know. I will,” you agreed.

“I know. But it’s going to be fine. You’ll see.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

“You’re shitting me, right?” Negan said, his breakfast still in his hand, not a single bite taken.

You stared at him and then let out a dry laugh. “That’s not exactly the reaction I was expecting,” you said.

“Well, shit. I mean… a real scavenging trip? That’s what you’re saying?” Negan said. He ran a hand back through his hair and stood, pacing a tight circle in his cell. “Who else is going?”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Why? Someone specific you want me to invite? Want me to ask your old pal Gabriel? Or wait—Eugene?”

He laughed but looked vaguely shocked. “Well, I’m sorry but I’m just—a little fuckin’ surprised, doll.” You’d eased some on scolding Negan for the pet names over the last few weeks and generally just ignored them now unless it was something really egregious. (You’d nearly hit him for calling you ‘princess’ one day, so he had at least not tried that again.) He seemed to enjoy taking full advantage of you turning a deaf ear to them now. “Just you and me? Out there?” he clarified.

“You and I have already been out there alone how many times, hmm? I don’t see why this should be any different,” you said, digging around in your pack.

“Well, it’s farther. I mean, farther for you to get help if—”

You straightened up and fixed a skeptical gaze on him. “If what? If you suddenly decide to attempt to murder me? Attack me? Steal the car and leave me out there? I’ll still be armed and you won’t. Besides, I’ve been through more shit out there than—”

He laughed again. “I was just gonna say in case any number of bad fuckin’ things happens out there. And we both know that they do.”

“Yeah. You used to be one of those bad things, remember?” you shot back quickly. He sighed at your deflection and you couldn’t help but laughing. “I am having to sell this harder to you than I did to Michonne and Daryl. What is going on? What are you worried about?”

“I’m not worried! Although, it would be fuckin’ nice to have something to defend myself with in case of the dead or unexpected assholes…”

“ ‘Unexpected Assholes’?” you repeated. “What is that, your one man play?” you quipped. “Let me guess—you’ll be playing yourself.”

Negan couldn’t resist a hearty laugh at that, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s good. You’re fuckin’ hilarious as usual, doll.” But he looked serious again the next moment. “Anyway, about me having some way to defend myself…”

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” you said lazily. “I’ll let you have, like, a stick if you want,” you smirked. He only stared back at you. “I told you that I’ll protect you! You think I’m just gonna let a walker wander up and bite you?” There was a thick silence for a moment where he just stared back at you.

“I’m not worried about one walker. I’m worried about all the random, rogue shit that can happen out there.”

“Well, you’re just going to have to trust me! Do you not want to go or what?” you pressed him, perplexed at his reaction.

He paused, drew in a deep breath, and let it out. Then that damn smirk showed back up on his face, sending his hazel eyes sparkling. “Are you asking if I want to go spend some quality time alone with you? Just the two of us? No one to interrupt… Completely at your mercy for whatever you may decide to do with me… or to me…”

You rolled your eyes, catching onto his tone immediately. “That could include killing you,” you cautioned him, eliciting a low laugh from him. You hated that the deep gravel of it gave you goosebumps. You did your best to ignore it.

“I don’t know… I’m starting to think this is just a ploy to get away with me where nobody can easily interrupt us,” Negan said. “I mean, shit. No need hide your true intentions from me,” he grinned. “I am absolutely 110% on board with that. Use me all you want, doll,” he grinned, now gripping the bars of his cell door. “God, I’d love to be fuckin’ used by you.”

You crossed your arms and fixed a stern look on him, hoping that your face wasn’t flushing bright red. You cleared your throat. “Sounds more like wishful thinking on your part. It’s a scavenging run, Negan, not a fucking romantic getaway,” you said.

“Are you sure you said that right? I think you meant romantic fucking getaway. Emphasis on the—”

“Negan! Stop! I will cancel this whole thing! Jesus Christ!”

That shit-eating grin was still on his face and he laughed again, thoroughly pleased with himself. “Alright, alright. I’m done. I think…”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “Scavenging. Run.” you repeated.

“Yeah, we’ll see, doll. We’ll see. So, where are we going exactly?”

You forged ahead, ignoring his last comments in favor of moving on. “There are some old houses and other structures we’ve only ever done a cursory search of. Probably not going to make a huge score but there’s always something left behind, something hidden. But who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky,” you said.

“Fuck me, I’d love to get lucky…” he laughed again.

“Negan!” you exclaimed again.

“Alright! I’m sorry,” he chuckled.

“So, are you in?” you asked, slightly exasperated.

The two of you were separated by only the iron bars and a small buffer of space, hardly a foot. He was still smiling at you and you hated that the thought that he was handsome flickered through your mind. It wasn’t the first time you’d thought it—but the thought always surprised you, like it came from somewhere outside of yourself, not by your conjuration alone. “Fuck yes, I’m in,” he answered, interrupting your thoughts.

“You promise to listen to everything I say? If I tell you to run, if I tell you to hide—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I promise,” he said, smiling. “If I don’t, you’ll shoot me in the fuckin’ knee or some shit. Can we skip the pep talk?”

You gave him a stern look but unlocked his cell and tossed him the spare pack you’d brought. You dug into your own bag and handed him some supplies, including some outerwear. He tucked them into his bag and looked up at you expectantly. “Where to, warden?”

You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t help the tiniest smirk. “Car is right outside. Let’s get going. The sun is starting to come up and it could be a long day.”

“Great. Can I drive?” he quipped, shouldering his bag. You only shot him a look that made him laugh again, but he saw the slight curve at the corners of your mouth.

The drive to the crumbling ruins of the neighborhood was slow, but uneventful. The sun was up and filtering through the trees overhead as you and Negan climbed out and started toward the buildings. You were quiet, focused, and Negan couldn’t help admiring your efficiency and care as you went about your mission.

The two of you stopped at the edge of the crumbling street, concealed in some taller brush. The street was overgrown with weeds and lined with dilapidated houses. It was almost eerily quiet.

“Alright,” you breathed quietly. “We’ll go building by building, down one side and back up the other. Pay attention to signs of walkers or people,” you said softly, gripping the straps of your pack. “Follow my lead and stay close.”

“You got it,” Negan replied, slipping his hands into his pockets as he followed alongside you toward the first house. “I gotta say, it is really uncomfortable being out here without a damn weapon. More so here than in the woods,” he commented, his eyes shifting around to study the other buildings, scrutinizing for a sign of movement. “I feel like I’m naked,” he said.

“I guarantee—” You paused to tap on the wall of the house the two of you were standing beside, listening for anything inside. “You’re not. If you were naked, I would not be this fuckin’ calm, Negan,” you said, half-distracted.

He chuckled and licked his bottom lip, smirking.

“What?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“I don’t think that sounded how you meant it to sound,” he laughed.

Your cheeks flushed. “Oh, shut up. You know what I meant!”

“Your brain is saying one thing but your lips are sayin’ another, darlin’,” he teased you.

You rolled your eyes and pulled the front door open, stepping cautiously inside. The smell was of mildew and stagnant air as you stepped inside. A heavy layer of dust and dirt coated everything; overturned furniture, books standing or tipped over on shelves, a stately chair still positioned in front of the fireplace. Somewhere deeper in the house, water was dripping. You had your gun out and started clearing the lower floors. Negan ghosted behind you.

You made for the staircase to check the upstairs when there was a soft thump overhead. Your eyes and Negan’s went to the ceiling.

“Alright… maybe someone is home after all,” he commented, giving you a concerned look.

“It’s gotta be a walker,” you said. “Maybe an animal.” You proceeded cautiously toward the staircase.

“Hey,” Negan said softly. “Be careful.”

You turned and looked at him for a long moment before you started up the stairs. He seemed genuinely on edge, worried. He stayed right on your heels as you climbed the steps, the muscle in his jaw tensed as his teeth clenched together.

You cleared two bedrooms and finally came to a closed door at the end of the hall. As the floor creaked under your boots, there was the sound of more movement behind the door. You reached for the door knob, gun ready in your other hand. You took a deep breath and quickly turned it shoving the door open and aiming the muzzle of your pistol inside.

An opossum let out an angry hiss and then scrambled up and out of a broken window. It had been rooting around in some debris on the floor. A huge sigh of relief escaped you and Negan watched your shoulders sag. You laughed a little as you turned to look back at Negan. He gave you a relieved look.

“I gotta be honest,” he said. “I fuckin’ hate this shit. I feel completely helpless without something to use if something bad happens. What am I supposed to do if you need help?”

You gave him a somewhat sympathetic look, thinking about how it would feel to be in his place—the unknown behind every locked door with no knife, no gun… completely vulnerable and reliant on someone who was essentially his jailor. “Well,” you said. “I have a feeling if something really did go wrong, you’d figure something out.”

He considered your words for a moment. “Yeah. I hope so.” He thought about what he would do. What if they ran into some bad men? Bad people? What would he really do if you were in danger? He didn’t have to think hard to know the answer. Anything. He’d do anything he needed to. The thought seemed to dig deep into the center of his chest and sit there, heavy. It was almost a surprise. “So, now what? House is clear.”

You holstered your gun again. “Now, we search. See if there’s anything left. A lot of people hid things, right after. There’s always something left behind. You take the upstairs. I’ll go through the downstairs.”

Negan nodded his agreement and turned back to the trashed bathroom, the sound of your steps fading away down the staircase. He searched every room, every cabinet, every closet, under beds, under loose floorboards, but came away with nothing of interest except for half a bottle of isopropyl alcohol. He headed downstairs where he could hear you rummaging around in the living room. “Hey,” he greeted you, stepping over the threshold. You were standing completely frozen now at the shelves, looking down at something. “Y/N?” he said again. You still didn’t seem to have heard him. He wandered closer. “Find something?”

You startled a little and turned to look at him, a picture frame in your hand. “Oh. No, not really. You?”

“Half a bottle of rubbing alcohol. I stuck it in my pack.” He nodded toward the frame. “What’s that?”

You looked down at it again. “It’s nothing. It’s just this—this family portrait. I wonder if they lived here—” you said thoughtfully. Your voice seemed to drift away a little. “Or what happened to them, you know? Did they make it? Were they ever safe again after the outbreak?”

Negan looked on with a thoughtful expression, his dark brows furrowed over his eyes. He nodded and moved closer to get a better view of the photo behind the cracked glass. He smiled at it, chuckling a little. “Hmm. Mom, Dad, and three kids. A perfect nuclear family,” he said.

“Looks like the 90s,” you laughed. “Check out the clothes.”

“Yeah, they probably went down to JCPenney to take advantage of the fancy photography studio,” Negan remarked. “Dad looks like an accountant, doesn’t he?”

“Mmm, I’m getting more of a bank manager vibe. Mom probably stayed at home when the kids were little and then goes back to work as a teacher once the youngest is in kindergarten,” you replied, now smiling a little too.

Negan ran a hand back through his hair thoughtfully and cocked his head. “You know—I was a teacher,” he said suddenly. “I’ve never really told anyone that since things went to shit. Kind of lessens the mystique,” he laughed dryly.

Your eyes snapped over to his face, one of your eyebrows arching gracefully with the question on your face. He laughed again. “Yeah, I know… hard to believe, right? How could such an asshole be a teacher?” he said.

A slight wince flickered across your face for a brief second at his words, as if you didn’t like the way he’d talked about himself. But that couldn’t be right… “What did you teach?”

“I was a high school P.E. teacher,” he said. “Coached some of the school teams too. Basketball. Football.”

“P.E.?” you repeated. “And you’re not even going to make a ‘physical education’ joke?” you teased him. “Wow. Are you feeling okay?”

He laughed lightly. “You beat me to it,” he said. He glanced back at the picture and sighed. “Should we get going? Lots of buildings to search,” he said.

You nodded and stared down at the picture for another moment.

“What’re you doing?” Negan asked, watching you take the back off the picture frame. You fumbled with the backing and then removed the family photo from the damaged frame.

“I just—feel like someone should remember them, you know?”

Negan’s gaze was fixed on you, flickering over your face. There was something so soft in it at that moment that you felt slightly unbalanced. You distracted yourself by bending to slip the photo into your pack. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he said gently.

You deflected, laughing as you shouldered your pack again. “Oh, you’ve got no idea,” you said sarcastically, again ignoring the heat in your face. “Come on.”

The two of you went on, searching each home and several stores, working your way down the block and partway up the next. You’d managed some good finds, including a hidden cellar that clearly had belonged to a survivalist type (who had apparently “opted out” and his corpse still watched over the hidden entrance). You’d have to make a few trips to the car in order to get all the supplies and gear back, or otherwise figure out a way to get the car in through the overgrown side road. The two of you piled the finds in a safe place in one of the rooms on the main floor, stacking Rubbermaid tubs full of helpful items in neat piles.

“Fuck me,” Negan sighed, setting the last one on top. “Well, when you’re right, you’re fuckin’ right, doll. There’s always somethin’ left behind.”

You wiped at the sweat near your hairline. “Yeah,” you sighed. “Not bad.” You had a satisfied smile on your face. It felt good to do something concrete that would help people back home. You glanced out the window, assessing the light outside. It’d taken quite some time to get things moved up from the cellar and you wondered if you should keep searching the rest of the houses or call it a day. “I think it’s starting to get late,” you said, remarking mainly on the way the light already seemed like it was fading.

“Mmm,” Negan hummed, going to the front bay window and looking out. His eyes had been searching the street all day, vigilant, as if waiting for some psychos to suddenly burst out of one of the houses. But the only signs of inhabitation or squatting you’d found were clearly from long before, now covered in dust and debris or otherwise moldering in damp corners or on top of filthy mattresses. Now, as you were busy drinking from your canteen, Negan’s shifting suddenly stopped. “Hey, doll—I’m no meteorologist, but those clouds look like bad fuckin’ news.” It had been overcast all day, but you could tell by the tone of his voice that this was something else.

You capped your canteen and went to the front door, your brow now furrowed heavily to match his. You pulled the door open and peered at the sky. Ominous didn’t even begin to cover it. There was not a sniff of wind at the moment and the air seemed to hum with electricity. Negan appeared next to you in the doorway, squinting at the low and heavy sky.

“I’m pretty sure when the sky turns fuckin’ green, there’s some bad shit coming,” he said. He glanced over at you.

“Shit,” you swore under your breath. “Yeah. Yeah, green sky is… tornado weather. Fuck,” you muttered, glancing back at the pile of supplies.

“What do you want to do?” Negan asked.

You sighed, pushing a hand back through your hair. “Even if we head back to the car now, we probably can’t outrun that… the old highway is FUBAR in some places. It’s not like we can drive 60 mph all the way back to Alexandria. And that would mean leaving all these supplies here.” As if on cue, the complete stillness in the air broke as a rushing wind approached like a tidal wave, creaking and cracking in the trees and swirling dust and dried leaves across the open ground until it reached the two of you standing on the porch. Your hair lifted and blew back from your face.

“I’ll ask you again,” Negan said, speaking louder now over the roar of the wind, “what do you want to do?”

You hesitated, glancing from him back to the quickly approaching menacing clouds. The little light left was fading fast. “Fuck,” you muttered again. “I—I think we’re better off weathering it here than in a car out there,” you said.

“I definitely agree with that,” Negan said.

“Once the storm clears, maybe then we can try to get the car in here and load up the supplies and get home. We’ll be delayed a bit longer than expected but—I think it’s the best move. Hopefully, we’re just stuck a couple more hours.”

Negan nodded. “Alright. Where are we holing up? Because this shit is about to kick the fuck off,” he said, surveying the street again.

“Here is as good a place as any,” you said. “There’s a basement and almost all the windows are intact or boarded up. Come on. Let’s get inside.”

Negan followed you in and shut the door on the wind. Your eyes were already on him when he turned around again. He was trying to decode your expression but it was largely unreadable. He unshouldered his pack and set it on the floor, taking a seat on the stairs across from where you were now leaning up against the wall. The ambient light from outside was quickly waning and before long you could hear raindrops start to pound the roof. They increased in size and then seemed to be blowing across the roof in waves of water.

You could hear the huge cottonwood trees creaking and cracking in the wind. You tried to peer out through the boarded slats over the window to see if they were dropping branches but it was too dark. Behind you, Negan pulled out a flashlight from his pack and clicked it on. It had grown extremely dark with the heavy storm clouds gathering and unleashing the torrents of rain. You were still standing right by the window, looking out, when he spoke again.

“Hey, maybe we should move away from the windows, doll,” Negan said, worried. He didn’t like how close you were standing to all that glass, even if it was mostly boarded over. His voice was deep and resonant in the space between you with just the raging background noise outside.

“Yeah. Maybe,” you said. You bent to grab your pack when you suddenly heard a loud thud against the side of the house. You straightened up, your eyes widening. Negan had heard it too, his eyes were narrowed, ears strained, listening. It was difficult to hear anything over the storm.

“What was that?” you asked, your voice breathy. “Some debris blowing against the house?” you asked.

Negan shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said, standing from his place on the steps and going to the doorway of the room the sound had seemed to come from. The roaring storm seemed to reach new extremes. The wind sounded like a train bearing down on the little dilapidated structure the two of you were sheltering in. Rain and hail lashed the siding and the roof. There was another thud from outside, this time on the window.

“There. Again,” you said, anxiously pacing toward Negan to stare into the room. His flashlight was still on. Another thud, and then another. You squinted, trying to distinguish anything through the boarded windows but it was too dark. Then, a flash of lightning shot the sky outside with blinding white and you couldn’t help the soft gasp that left you at what it illuminated.

“What?” Negan asked urgently.

You couldn’t speak. You just reached for the flashlight. Negan looked down as your hand landed on top of his. He could feel you trembling slightly and for a moment he was so shocked by your touch that he didn’t understand what you were doing. With your gentle grip, you directed the yellow beam of the light slowly to the window. As it came to rest between two of the boards and shone through the glass, Negan registered that there were walkers clawing to get in, rotting faces pressed to the glass, bloody fingertips, snapping teeth. Dozens. “Ho-ly fuck!” he exclaimed, jerking the flashlight off the window and quickly shutting it off. You and Negan stood in the dark for a moment, neither of you moving, now keenly aware of the pounding noise and dull thuds on the exterior of the house, cutting through the wind and rain. Were you imagining it or was the pounding increasing, getting louder? More frequent? Negan could hear your breath beside him in the dark. “Well, that shit was straight out of a fuckin’ horror movie,” he remarked in a low voice.

“Yeah,” you whispered back. “Where the fuck did they come from? It sounds like we’re surrounded.”

“I don’t fuckin’ know. Seems like they rolled in with the storm.”

“Maybe they can feel the barometric pressure changes or something. Almost like a migration,” you commented, feeling your heart rate and breathing finally start to slow down after the shock of discovering the herd.

Negan chuckled beside you and you heard him shift. “Who do you think you’re talking to? Eugene?”

You let out a dry laugh. “Okay… so, now we just have the storm of the century and a fucking herd to deal with. Great. Okay… let’s think…”

Negan finally clicked his flashlight on again but kept it pointed at the floor. “This place seems sturdy but maybe we should barricade ourselves better.”

You glanced toward the basement where you’d discovered the hidden cellar. Your eyes next drifted toward the stack of supplies. “Basement is pretty much ready to barricade thanks to that dead survivalist guy, but if they do break in we could be trapped down there for fuck-knows how long.”

“Not sure we have any better options. We don’t want to be upstairs either. We’re sure as shit not going out on the roof in this if they get in and if there is a fucking tornado and we're on the top floor—” Negan broke off.

“Yeah,” you agreed, nodding. You dug into your own pack and pulled out a headlamp, quickly turning it on dimly. “Grab some of these. They have food and medical supplies, and some other gear,” you said, grabbing one of the many Rubbermaid containers and heading toward the stairs down to the basement.

“Man, I’m so glad we carried all this shit up here,” Negan joked, picking up a stack of two big containers.

“Sorry. Next time I’ll consult my crystal ball,” you quipped, but right then there was the sound of shattering glass and the storm and the growling got slightly louder. One of the windows in the next room had broken. Negan could see hands and fingers reaching in around the boards.

“Let’s go. Downstairs,” he urged you, his voice intense and thick with concern.

You started down, but shot back at him over your shoulder. “Aren’t I the one in charge here?”

“I don’t see you disagreeing with that idea,” Negan said, setting his containers down beside yours. “Stay here. I’ll go grab a couple more boxes,” he said.

“Whoa. Me stay here? What is this? You don’t even have a weapon!” you argued.

He gave you an exasperated look. “Fine. Then by all means, come with me, darlin’!” He turned and rushed back up the stairs and you had to hurry after him, one hand on your knife in its sheath.

“Negan,” you snapped at him in a low voice as you rounded the doorway back onto the main floor. But he wasn’t by the supplies. You glanced around and could see the dim glow of his light in the next room, the one where the walkers had broken a window. Rain and the occasional hailstone were puddling under the window among the shards of glass. “What the fuck?” You nearly collided with each other when he turned around and started back toward the door. “What are you doing?! Put that down!” you growled.

He had an iron fireplace poker in his hand. That’s what he’d been doing in this room, grabbing it from the set of fireplace tools. “Don’t you think this qualifies as kind of a capital “E” emergency?” he argued.

You stared at him, intense, your chest heaving, and to your annoyance, he smiled at you.

“Goddamn. You look fuckin’ hot as shit when you’re pissed off! I mean, you’re always hot but ho-ly shit! I'm scared and suddenly all tingly downtown!”

Your hand went purposefully to your knife again and you stared him down. “I said. Put it. The fuck. Down.”

“Doll, just hear me out—”

“Negan.”

Another crack and the sound of shattering glass behind him and you saw more arms reaching through between the boards of another window. “Okay, we don’t have time for this right now. You can stab me or whatever downstairs,” he said. He breezed past you and grabbed a couple more boxes of supplies. You had no choice but to begrudgingly follow after him.

He turned, straightening up as he heard your boots hitting the bottom steps, and he opened his mouth to say something, but you were already on him before he could get even a syllable out.

You kicked him hard on the inside of one of his thighs and he dropped sideways onto his knee. The poker dropped from his hand and rang out on the cement floor. You kicked it away and it slid into the far wall with a harsh scraping sound. Your knife was unsheathed and pointed at the base of his throat before he knew what was happening. To your amazement, once he recovered from his pained grimaces, he fucking smiled again.

“Do you know what you’re doing to me right now?” he asked in a low, gruff voice.

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me. When I brought you out here, you said you would listen to every fucking thing I told you to do. This is your one single second chance. Next time you fuck up, it’ll be my knife going into your thigh instead of my boot. Got it?”

He gulped, still on one knee at the point of your knife and still, to your annoyance, vaguely smiling. “Oh, I got it,” he responded, his eyebrows lifting.

“Good,” you said, backing off and letting him stand up. “Now, go pick up the fucking poker. I’m gonna lock up the door…”

“Wait‚ what?” Negan laughed, still rubbing at his leg where you’d kicked him. “After all that, you’re letting me have it?”

“Yes,” you said. “This does roughly qualify as an emergency. Or at least, the border of one. But those kinds of decisions? They’re not yours to make, Negan. You’re not the one in charge here.”

He looked both stunned and amused. “That is becoming more and more clear every fuckin’ day,” he said softly, looking at you with some expression you couldn’t completely discern.

You gave him a perplexed look and then headed up the stairs to seal up the door. There were heavy brackets on the back of the reinforced door (thank you, dead survivalist man) and you spotted a thick board leaning up against the railing. Once you’d closed and locked it, you heaved up the heavy wooden slat and dropped it into place in the brackets, adding extra security in case the walkers did get inside and try to push through. As you removed your hand hastily to head back downstairs, a jagged corner on one of the metal brackets sliced into your palm. You jerked it back and stared as a long crimson gash began to leak fat drops of blood onto the steps below you. You pulled in a hiss of breath through your teeth. “Great,” you sighed, cradling it in the other hand and trotting back down. Overhead, you could hear the storm still raging, but as a low hum now.

Negan stood up from his seat on one of the containers of supplies as soon as he saw you. A concerning amount of shockingly red blood was dripping off your hand and onto the floor. “What happened?” he asked, moving closer as you attempted to dig into your pack with your other hand, blood now running down your forearm. “Jesus, let me help you!” He grabbed your pack away and dug around inside until he found a small kit with spare bits of cloth for bandaging, some gauze pads, and a few other assorted odds and ends for first aid. “Wait, I’ve got that alcohol in my pack. We should clean it first.”

“It’ll be fine,” you argued, pulling off your headlamp and watching as Negan clicked on a lantern he’d found in one of the boxes.

“Would you let me help you with this at least? Can I? Please? I’m asking permission now,” he joked, shooting you a goading expression.

You cocked your head at him and tried to look annoyed, but you conceded, taking a seat on a plastic container across from him.

Negan dug out the alcohol and poured a generous amount out onto your palm. You gritted your teeth together at the burn and winced. “Sorry,” he said, pressing a gauze pad down over it, holding it gently on his own hand now. “But better than an infection, right?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, feeling strangely on edge with your hand in his.

Negan used some of the long, clean strips of cloth to bandage it up and hold the gauze in place, tying it securely but gently before relinquishing his hold on you. “Should have the doc take a look at that when we get back,” he said. “Pretty deep. Might need some stitches on that one.”

“Yeah. Maybe. It'll probably be too late by the time we get out of here,” you said, finally sighing as you suddenly realized how tired you were. Now that you felt more secure and safe, a strange thing with Negan sitting a mere foot away from you with no dividing bars between, the adrenaline had run out. Exhaustion was starting to set in. You took stock of the space. Your eyes wandered from the door into the hidden cellar where you’d found most of the supplies, back to the corpse of the survivalist in the far corner, over to the boxes next to Negan.

He was putting the first aid stuff back into your pack when his fingers nudged something and he paused; a thick stack of glossy photos. He pulled them out, curious. On top was the first one, the one in the very first house that the two of you had talked about, but there were more along with it now—many more. He flipped through a couple until you noticed and shifted where you were sitting. His hazel eyes lifted up to your face. “These are all from today?” he asked.

You nodded and tried to clear the sudden lump in your throat.

“You kept them? All of them?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

He sighed, shaking his head vaguely, and thumbed through more; families on vacations, some guy holding a big fish, a young couple smiling in front of the Statue of Liberty, babies and kids and dogs and cats, an elderly couple posing in front of a studio background.

Your voice suddenly cut into him. “Did you ever stop to think that every person you put under your bat, they probably had photos like this? Were in photos like this?” you said suddenly. A particularly loud rumble of thunder boomed and rolled, as if on cue. Your eyes, clear and steady and striking even in the low glow of the lantern, felt like they were seeing straight into his core.

He frowned. The lines on his face seemed to become more pronounced, and he almost cringed. “No,” he answered honestly, the gravel in his voice heavy and gritty. “I didn’t think about it at all, most of the time. I think that was a lot of what I was doing. Not thinking. I know that's a shit fuckin' excuse. It's not an excuse... but I didn’t—want to think about the hard stuff.”

You were curious, interested, and felt that same vulnerability he seemed to be giving you more and more rolling off him in waves. “Like what?”

He gave you a sad smile. You could hear the wind whistling above you and the pounding of the rain. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

But now you were the one to back away, ducking your head, avoiding his eyes. Negan saw that there was hurt there, deep hurt. “I don’t think we’re quite there yet,” you murmured, fiddling with the bandage on your palm. “I mean, I’m not…”

“Hey, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,” Negan replied, “you don’t owe me a damn thing. But can I tell you somethin’, doll?” He hesitated for a moment. “I—I like you. You kicked the shit out of me and held a knife to my throat about ten minutes ago and I still really like you. Genuinely. As a person, as a badass, as a—”

“Negan—” you interrupted him.

“If I had to be trapped in a basement with a corpse, a tornado and a herd outside, I can’t think of another person I’d rather be stuck with,” he said.

“Negan—” you tried again.

“No, listen to me. I’m trying to tell you—”

“You don’t like me, okay? You just feel that way because I’m the only person who really talks to you, who spends time with you, who brings you your meals, and looks after some fraction of your well-being. It’s like—it’s like trauma bonding, okay? That’s all it is.”

“No. It’s not just that. See Gabe was doin’ all that same shit and I still didn’t fuckin’ like him… I mean, not as much as I like you.”

As usual, when what you were feeling was becoming overwhelming, too many thoughts, too many emotions, you deflected with humor. “I’m cuter than Gabriel.”

Negan laughed and this time the sound was warm and almost comforting. “Yeah. No argument there…”

You allowed yourself a half-smile and then sighed, rubbing your hands over your face. “Fuck, I’m tired. What a long fucking day…”

“There are those sleeping bags in one of these boxes I think,” Negan said, starting to pull at the lids.

You laughed. “I can’t sleep,” you said.

“Why not?”

“Besides the insane storm outside and the horde? Uhh… I don’t know, you?” you offered, your tone a little sardonic.

But Negan’s face was perfectly serious. “The storm and the horde—can’t do shit about those companions and I agree that they are crappy house guests, but they’re not fuckin’ goin’ anywhere soon from what I can hear. That’s not changing whether you’re asleep or awake. As for me—” he tilted his head and gave you an appraising look, “I do not want to hurt you. And I won’t. And I’m not running away with the dickhole party outside so, you may as well catch some shut-eye. I’ll keep watch.”

You considered him for a long moment but finally shook your head. “No. No, I can’t sleep now…”

Negan sighed and rested the fireplace poker across his knees. “Well, then I’d say it’s going to be a long night… Got any ideas about how to pass the time?”

The mischievous sparkle came back into his eyes and you shot him a stern look that was apparently not enough of a deterrent. “Don’t—”

“We still do have those sleeping bags. I can think of some activities for a makeshift bed that don’t involve actual sleep.”

“Negan, there’s literally a corpse in the corner and a horde outside and that’s where your mind goes?”

He laughed. “Can you blame me? I’ve been in jail for, how long now? Five, six years? And trust me, Gabey Baby wasn’t giving me any action.” He paused at the look on your face, laughing again. “Come on, doll. I’m just kidding. Though it would help pass the time, you deserve far better than a sleeping bag on a dirty basement floor.”

“With a dead guy watching,” you added.

“With a dead guy watching,” he repeated, scratching absently at the stubble on his face. “That is pretty fuckin’ metal though,” he smirked.

“Negan, saying that I deserve better than that is really saying nothing. Anyone deserves better than that,” you sighed, standing up and pacing. “So yeah. I’d say it’s going to be a long night.”

[starryylies]

Omg 141 with touch-starved gf that just gets turned on from every little thing they do cause she's not used to it. Been heavy on my mind

TF-141 with touch starved reader

Hiiii sososo sorry for replying late, everything is getting postponed cuz of work :((((

I hope you enjoy this anon! Thank you so much for the awesome request, I love it!!

PRICE-

ꨄ︎ loves it loves it lovesssss itttttt

ꨄ︎ thinks you’re like a cat who actually loves cuddles but acts like she doesn’t

ꨄ︎ calls you his kitty

ꨄ︎ loves patting your head and calling you his “good kitty”

ꨄ︎ loves how he’s the only one who’s seen how touch starved you are

ꨄ︎ lives for the reaction you have for when he even touches you slightly making body stiffen and your thighs clench from arousal.

ꨄ︎ will keep his hand on your thigh in public all to make sure you behave when others are around

ꨄ︎ loves teasing And welll taming you

ꨄ︎ thinks it’s adorable how you get all whiny when you’re turned on by his teasing.

ꨄ︎ but how can he stop when you look so pretty trying to hide your arousal

ꨄ︎ would make sure nobody finds out though, not because it’s embarrassing but because he doesn’t want anyone else to get the wrong idea and mess with you

ꨄ︎ will make you hump his legs when he’s busy

ꨄ︎ Loves how desperate you are when turned on :(

ꨄ︎ “use your words princess, you want me? my what exactly? Say it”

ꨄ︎ “bad fuckin’ kitty making me fuck you in the neighbors bathroom all cus youre a wet fuckin’ mess”

SIMON-

ꨄ︎ it takes time for him to get adjusted in the beginning

ꨄ︎ ar first he found it a bit overwhelming since he’s had terrible experiences in the past but as you guys go on with the relationship he slowly finds it comforting.

ꨄ︎ has a low sex drive in the beginning but will try his best to please you,

ꨄ︎ so in the beginning he started off by kisses here and there till he gets used to it more.

ꨄ︎ likes how you cling onto him as a koala :)

ꨄ︎ is very touch starved in the beginning but feels awkward about it

ꨄ︎ sometimes felt inadequate but those feelings are lost when he’s fucking you till you’re a babbling mess moaning into the pillow case. :)

ꨄ︎ slowly as your relationship deepens I believe his sex drive will increase greatly and now he’d be more comfortable being clingy and touch starved

ꨄ︎ would make sure you’re well satisfied especially during the days you ovulate

ꨄ︎ you both are like each others cuddly cats ₍˄·͈ ‧̫ ·͈˄₎

ꨄ︎ loves the way you whine under his touch

ꨄ︎ loves giving you kisses whenever he can in the house.

ꨄ︎ very protective and will make sure nobody takes advantage of you

ꨄ︎ loves the way your pussy clenches on him when you’re under him.

ꨄ︎ swears he will cum fast if you continue squeezing his cock so hard,

ꨄ︎”ugh fuckin’ hell princess not so right, gonna’ Milk me dry righ’ here love fuckk”

SOAP-

ꨄ︎ oh this man is a menace, will purposely tease you

ꨄ︎ he loves how you squirm when he tries kissing you

ꨄ︎ loves how you visibly gasp when his hand brushes against you

ꨄ︎ loves keeping his hands on your waist

ꨄ︎ will make sure you’re always satisfied, you’re still horny after one round? Let’s go again

ꨄ︎ will purposely make you sit closer to him when you guys are out teasing you by slowly moving his hand from your knees to your inner thighs~

ꨄ︎ kisses you so much, loves how audible whimpers escape your mouth when you’re on his lap and are making out

ꨄ︎ thinks you’re so cute when you tug onto him :))

ꨄ︎ loves the way you melt underneath his touch

ꨄ︎ is quick to notice when you’re frustrated and needy for him

ꨄ︎ he will pretty much fuck you like he hasn’t fucked in a year because god he lives for the little sounds and reactions you make.

ꨄ︎ pats your head too!

ꨄ︎ likes giving you massages :)

ꨄ︎ the massages lead to you pinned underneath him while his hands are gripping the bed while he pounds you till his balls are drained

ꨄ︎ “fuck Bonnie lookin’ so messy under me. you’re fuckin’ droolin, takin me in so good.”

GAZ-

ꨄ︎ biggest menace here, makes sure you’re always hot and bothered with him

ꨄ︎ oh god this man cannot keep his hands off of you

ꨄ︎ he will never ever get his hands off (until you say so ofc) but his hands will always be somewhere on your body caressing you

ꨄ︎ makes sure you get turned on when you guys are out

ꨄ︎ loves the quickies that happen when you both are out cuz you goy turned on cuz of him

ꨄ︎ thinks you’re an adorable mess when you’re horny

ꨄ︎ will buy a small panty vibrator for when he’s deployed

ꨄ︎ will turn it on any time he pleases so you don’t feel lonely when he’s gone :((

ꨄ︎ asks you to tell him in detail about what you did with yourself when he’s deployed

ꨄ︎ loves coming home from deployment finding you so needy and hot, climbing on top him the second he comes back

ꨄ︎ will probably try out many ways to tease you more

ꨄ︎ holds your hand or keeps his hand on your waist wherever you guys go.

ꨄ︎ If you’re ticklish he will definitely tickle you there whenever you feel low or anything.

ꨄ︎ loves taking care of you and loves when you cling onto him.

ꨄ︎ loves how sensitive you get when you guys are fucking but will ask you over and over again to see if he’s not crossing any limits.

ꨄ︎ “ya likin’ it babe? You like it when I come home only to catch ya playin’ with yourself? Couldn’t even wait for me could ya?”

ꨄ︎ “Yeahh fuck takin me so good, don’t squirm baby m right here, If it gets too much tell me okay?”

[kennedyalike]

sex with leon after a fight like jealousy or something idk 🤭🤭

all mine

hope you like this, sorry if it isn’t what you hoped for!!

pairing: leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags: jealousy, possesiveness, p in v sex, car sex, semi public sex

summary: leon sees you working out with carlos and can’t help but feel jealous

word count: 1,78k

you: comin’ to get me?

leon: i’m already in the parking lot, can i come in?

you: be my guest

The gym wasn’t your favorite place, but you had to do what you had to do. While squatting up a huge barbell, your eyes can’t help but to gaze at the door, wondering when Leon would come in. Suddenly the barbell feels lighter and you snap back to reality.

”Hey, focus!” Carlos grunts behind you as he helps you lift the barbell back to the rack. You sigh and stretch your legs quickly, pulling yourself back in the moment. ”Go again. I’ll help, okay?” He reassures you as you lift the barbell back onto your shoulders again. Widening your stance and fixing your posture, you get ready to squat.

Carlos’ hands finds itself grabbing your waist on both sides to help you keep your form. He pulls himself closer, hip almost joining yours as he watches you squat down slowly. You almost forgot all about Leon, focusing on squatting this thing. As you come up and lift the barbell back to its rack, you turn around to Carlos and smile. ”I did it!”

He smiles back at you while you hold your hand up, waiting for a high five. Instead, he pulls you into a hug and you accept it, chuckling as you wrap your arms around him. Carlos’ hands grab your waist again as he hugs you. Over his shoulder, you see Leon standing at the door, waiting for you.

You quickly pull out of the hug and say your goodbyes to Carlos. ”See you monday, lookin’ good!” He compliments you and you nod back, grabbing your gym bag and walking towards Leon. As you walk, he just stares your body up and down the whole way until you’re in front of him, waving your hand jokingly across his face. ”Eyes up here, Leon.” You tease him, but he only looks past you, his brows furrowed. He seems annoyed.

He grabs your arm and practically drags you out of the gym. If Leon knew this was what you were doing at the gym, he wouldn't have allowed you to go there in the first place. Who was he to decide that anyways? He was a friend, just like Carlos. A friend. Except he wasn’t. He was far more than a friend but he wasn’t your boyfriend either. You both knew it was more than friends. Couple dates, hangouts, calls and maybe you two did fuck on occasion, who knows?

Leon wasn’t as dumb as you, Carlos was a good ”friend” you met at the gym who offered to help you to ”keep your form” or whatever. Bullshit. Leon saw right through it just now. The way Carlos’ hands sneaked around your waist, pulling himself closer to you as you squat in front of him. He definitely had ulterior motives, he wasn’t just helping you. But of course, you were too innocent and oblivious to understand.

You furrow your brows in concern while you follow Leon to his car in the parking lot, letting him slightly drag you. ”Leon, is something wrong?” You hesitate to ask as he opens the backseat door of his car for you. Quietness follows and it makes you uneasy, you begin to wonder if Leon is actually jealous of Carlos. Maybe that was your plan all along.

You settle your bag into the legroom and sit, grabbing the door to close it until Leon stops you, suddenly getting into the back seat with you and closing the door after him. Before even beginning to speak, you’re interrupted by his hands grabbing at your waist, pulling you to straddle his lap. A blush creeps on your cheeks as you grab his shoulders and ground yourself, settling both thighs on the sides of his. ”Naughty girl.” Your eyes widen from confusion but you feel your stomach flutter from his words, sending a small sensation down between your thighs.

”You’re not even gonna say anything, hm?” He asks angrily. ”What do you mean, Leon?” You ask confusedly as you look at his annoyed face. He scoffs in return and you feel his grip on your hips tighten. ”You and him, stop that shit.” He says and you can’t help the small smirk forming in the corner of your mouth as you grind into him slightly.

”Are you jealous, Leon?” You tease him as you drag your fingers across his stern chest, looking up at him innocently. He looks away in annoyance and sighs. You continue looking at his face, seemingly unamused. ”He’s just a friend, means nothing bad, I promise.” You say honestly as your hand caresses his cheek, prompting him to look at you. His gaze finally turns to look you in the eyes. ”How would you feel if I went and grabbed some girl's waist while she squats in front of me, huh?”

Your hand never leaves his cheek as you think about it for a second. It would feel horrible, Leon looking at some other woman than you, grabbing her waist like he’s grabbing yours right now. You nod slowly. ”I get it. m’ sorry.” You apologize and nervously look away. He leans in closer to you, whispering to your ear. ”Show me how sorry you are, sweetheart.” His deep voice whispering to your ears sends a tingle down your body as you gasp slightly. ”W-What?”

”You heard me.”

”How?”

He smirks at your words and looks down at your lap, grinding your hips into his and you feel his erection through your gym shorts. ”B-But someone could see us..” You say unsurely as you try to deny the heat that was growing between your thighs. The thought of Leon taking you right here, where someone could see was getting you so wet. ”Then let them see.” The last word of his sentence mumbles quietly as his lips join yours in a kiss. He’s hungrily kissing you, while grinding your hips down on his painfully erect cock.

You grind into him and wrap your arms around his shoulders as you keep kissing him back. The sensation of his soft lips dominating over yours feels as amazing as ever. He was right, you were his and you were gonna prove it to him. His other hand trails up your body from your hips to your tits, he fondles them through your gym shirt, causing you to moan into the kiss slightly. You tilt your head to the left and let him press kisses into your neck. Rough kisses that would definitely leave a mark.

Your body shivers as he breathes into your neck, still pressing kisses. You whimper and grind your hips into his, desperate for some friction to your cunt. ”Show me how sorry you are, ride me.” He whispers into your ear again and you only nod frantically. ”Good girl.” He praises as you take off your shirt, leaving you in your busty bra as you start inching your gym shorts off. His big hands come to your aid as he slips them off, leaving you in your underwear.

You forgot all about your surroundings as you straddle his lap again, starting to unbuckle his belt while he carefully watches you, feeling proud of your obedience. You eagerly unbuckle his belt and push his pants down to his knees, boxers coming with them. His cock is fully erect and it stands against his clothes abdomen. You immediately grab it with your hands and start stroking it up and down. Leon groans from the contact as his hands find your hips, trying to pull you on top of his cock already.

His length was veiny, long and girthy, tip leaking with a small bead of precum as you stroke it a couple times before lifting your hips on top of him. His fingers hook around the fabric of your panties and pull them to the side. Slowly you guide his tip to your wet hole and you can basically feel yourself clenching around nothingness. You whine as you slowly start sitting down, pushing his cock deeper into you. His heavy breathing against your neck as you grab his shoulders with both hands and he grabs your hips, slamming you down on his cock.

”Oh my god!” You whine as he fully sheathed himself in you and starts bucking his hips up, fucking into you roughly. The stretch of his cock in you without any foreplay hurt at first, the burning contact as he fucks into you as he pleases. He lets out small breathy moans as he continues his pace, pampering your neck with suckling kisses as you turn into a whiny mess on top of him.

”Leon, s’ too much!” You moan into his ear as the slight pain starts turning into pleasure. Your pussy clenches around his cock while he pounds into you, forgetting that you were supposed to ride him. ”You can take it, right, baby?” He mocks you while lifting your hips up slightly so he could gain a better angle.

”Apologize, maybe I’ll go easy on you.”

”F-fuck! M’ sorry-Ah! Leon-h!” You desperately moan as he pounds into you. Wet sounds of your pussy wanting him even deeper echo in the car, you forget all about your surroundings as you start meeting his thrusts, broken moans escaping your mouth as you listen to him groan from the feeling. ”Good girl, just like that. Fuck, so tight.”

His other hand leaves your hips and sneaks down to circle around your clit as you keep lifting your hips up and down on his lap, rutting his cock inside you. ”Please, Leon..” You desperately whine when his thumb rubs on your clit, causing your pussy to clench on his cock, trying to milk it dry.

”Cum, it’s okay.” He reassures as his hips start picking up the pace again, feeling himself come closer to the edge of orgasm as well. Babbling incoherent ”m’ sorry’s” and his name all over again, you let go of the feeling and feel yourself cumming on his cock. You moan loudly as you lean towards his chest, basically hugging him as your body does numb and the orgasm washes over you. Leon keeps holding your hips with both hands, rummaging a few sloppy thrusts into your clenching hole until he finally is satisfied and releases his cum into you. He holds your hips close to his and tucks your hair behind your ears. While small whimpers still leave your mouth, he whispers into your ear. ”You’re all mine, d’ya understand?”

[y6g6mis]

— VI. PRETTY AS A VINE

summary. Ever since you saw her, she hasn’t left your mind, she’s too alluring to not think about, but she’s thought about you, as well.

includes. cairo sweet x fem!reader, praising, eating out, slight dirty talk, soft!dom!cairo, sub!reader, les-sex

“Focus.”

Her voice was soft but stern, you’d been studying with her for the past hour now, it’s around 9PM, the sun has set, the light of the lamp shining on her face, making it impossible to focus on anything else. She was ethereal, she had the prettiest eyes you could get lost in, you could look at her for hours and not get tired of it, you’d be taken for a fool if you said you weren’t in love with her.

“Sorry.” You said. Judging by her look at her tone of voice, you could tell she knew.

“C’mon, you know this.” She says, pointing to the question in your book.

You look down at the question. Math. Math was definitely not your favorite subject, but, you took one look, thought about it, and wrote down your answer, you look back at her, hoping you got it right.

“Good.” She says. A small wave of relief washed over you as you gave her a warm smile.

A couple more hours pass by, you look at the time. It’s now half past 11. You’ve worked on a ton of pages, some you got wrong, some you got right, yet, somehow, that wasn’t a worry for you.

“Why don’t we stop there?” She says, you were taken aback by her words, shutting your book.

“Alright then.” You say.

“Well, I’d say you did pretty well.” She says. You were hoping she wouldn’t notice you slightly blushing, so you gave her a small smile.

“Thanks, Cairo, for- y’know, doin’ this.” You say.

“Anytime, darlin’, just call me, and I’ll be right over.” She says.

You smiled, as you studied her features, she had the sweetest smile you ever saw that made your legs weak on the spot.

Cairo reached up to move one of your loose strands of hair out of your view. “You’re beautiful.” She says, you then scoff, looking away.

“What? Y’don’t believe me?” She asks.

“Well, I just think we both know who’s better lookin’” You say, as she inches closer.

“None of that, darlin’.” She says, bringing her index finger to your lips.

“None of what?” You ask.

“Y’know what.”

“Oh c’mon.” You scoff. “I mean- look at you.” You eyed her up and down. God, she was absolutely gorgeous. “Pretty as a vine.”

“Y’mean that?” She asks.

“I know that.”

She smiled, looking down, you were flattering her, and she was enjoying it.

“Do somethin’ ‘bout it then.” She said.

“What?” You heard her, and knew what she meant, but you were too flustered to do anything else.

“Y’heard me.” She says. “Why don’t you do somethin’ ‘bout it, sweetheart?”

You didn’t move.

“Here, I’ll make it easy for you.” She said, inching closer and closer to your face, your noses almost touching.

You moved in and closed the gap that separated you and her, you weren’t expecting yourself to make a move, but here you were, lips on hers, on your bed.

She slithered her hands on your waist, her fingers moving in circles, it feels…nice. Amazing, even.

Your hands bury into her hair, almost pulling it, you enjoyed this, but you wanted more.

“Can I show you somethin’?” She asks, pulling away. “Only if it’s alright with you.”

You nodded eagerly.

She smiled “Alright. Sit on the edge of the bed.”

You do as she asks, holding back your smile.

“Take these off, darlin’.” She says.

You slip off your jeans, along with your panties, and throw them on the other side of the bed.

“Jus’ tell me if you’re uncomfortable, ‘n I’ll stop.” She says in a low tone.

You hum a yes, nodding down at her.

Her lips then met with your entrance, as she moved her tongue up and down against your clit.

Your breathing was heavy and sharp, she was good at this.

“Oh my f-” Was all you could stutter out, as her tongue began to move a bit faster than before.

Her tongue started moving in circles, you threw your head back in ecstasy, as a moan escaped your lips.

“Cairo- fuck!-” You cried. The feeling of her hot mouth on your cunt felt like heaven.

She began going faster, until she was tongue fucking you.

“Cairo— don’t stop- fuck!” You moaned. Almost screaming out her name.

The sounds of her sucking on your clit and your heavy breathing echoed throughout the room, it felt unreal how good she was making you feel.

“Cairo, m’gonna…shit!—”

“Go ahead, darlin’, come for me.”

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer until you finally let loose.

Your heavy breathing continues as she brings herself up to your level.

She moves multiple hair strands out of your view, as she brushed the rest of your hair with her fingertips.

"I-I wanna make you feel good, too." You say, you're eager, she likes that.

"Yeah? Y'do?" She asks.

You nod. “Jus’ get this off.”

Cairo smiles, removing her white ribbon-styled dress, discarding it, putting it on the floor.

“Y’like what you see?” She said, her voice dripping with a dark tone, which was something you haven’t heard before.

You didn’t answer, but she knew you liked it.

“Y’gotta take yours off too.”

You stifled a small laugh as you took off your shirt, and laid it on the floor.

She knew what your intentions were, but you rarely knew yourself, you were barely experienced.

You hesitated, you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of her, you hated it.

“Y’alright?” She asks.

“I- yeah, I’m just- uh..”

“Nervous?”

A beat. “Yeah, a bit.”

Her lips curled into a smirk. “‘S alright to be nervous, pretty girl, just go with it.”

You positioned yourself, lining up your pussy with hers, as you took a deep breath.

Cairo smiled at your effort, she put your hands on your hips, and led you through it.

“Jus’…like that.” She says, grinding your pussy with hers, she slowly removed her hands, you didn’t stop.

“Yeah… there’s a girl…thaaat’s it…” She said.

You kept going, it felt good, everything about it, it felt good, and she was sure as hell enjoying it, that smirk on her face says it all.

“Atta girl, shit— don’t stop..”

You didn’t.

Ecstasy was flowing through your body, everywhere, it felt amazing, the way her pussy feels against yours, you didn’t want it to end.

“Fuuck…Cairo..” You moaned, your head fell forward, leaning on her shoulder.

“I know, darlin’.” She said, her fingers tangled in your hair. “Jus’ feel good against me.”

You grinded a bit faster, the room filling with your moans and groans.

Cairo couldn’t help but laugh a bit, it’s only been a minute and you’re already a pro.

“Dirty girl…” She murmured in your ear. “Been thinkin’ ‘bout this for a while, haven’t you?”

You won’t admit it, but you have.

As you began moving faster than before, you could feel her grinding against you, your moans grew louder and louder than before.

“Cairo!— fuck- ’s too much!…”

“Jus’ take it, darlin’, ‘s all you gotta do.” She said. “Jus’ focus on me.”

You couldn’t think of anything else anyway, your sexual ecstasy was taking over your body.

“Jus’ keep goin’.” She said.

You could feel yourself letting loose yet again, it felt harder this time.

“Cairo— d-don’t stop- please!..” Once you said that, she knew you were reaching your highest, she didn’t stop, in fact, she went faster.

You groaned as she picked up her pace.

You could feel yourself becoming undone, as you groaned, almost screaming.

You were done.

You managed to catch your breath as you climbed off her, sitting, with your head sort of hanging low.

Cairo moved closer to you, as she kissed you, softly, this one was more tender than the other ones.

“Pretty girl, did so well f’me.” She whispered against your lips, god, she loved you, and you loved her, you knew it.

“Why don’t I stay?” She asks, she didn’t want to leave you alone, so how could you refuse.

You nodded with a hum. As you laid back down beside her.

You felt your eyelids getting heavier by the second, until they fully closed.

[semperamans]

HEAR ME OUT: I just read the Jhonny smut and I writhed in happiness, IT WAS FUCKING AWESOME, on the other hand, something now circles my little head at that part "just like Benny taught ya" EHMM????? yeah, I need that.

I BEG YOU CLO

somethin’ of a prequel to this <3 hope u enjoy :’)

the sun’s goodbye is long n’drawn out as she traipses through the sky. she even stops at your place; peeking through the windows, spying on you and benny as you lounge atop your pretty flowery sheets. benny thinks you look like an angel; hair splayed over the pillow, eyes bright, smile soft, but then again an angel surely wouldn't ask what you just did. he goes quiet - too quiet - and now you’re embarrassed. you turn shy at his silence, capturing your bottom lip between your teeth, tuggin’ your body into a sitting position, turning your chin toward the ground.

“jus’ wanna be good for ‘em.” you reason in a voice that is no louder than the wind whispering through the window screen n' just audible above the delicate whip of your white curtains. "will you teach me?"

an' there’s somethin' about the vulnerability in your voice that makes benny wanna get closer to you, so he does. you just look so cute, all slouched defeatedly beside him: eyes downcast, lashes fluttering to keep tears away, that he has no choice but to reach out: cuppin' your jaw in his calloused palms, makin' you look at him.

“pretty,” he breathes the nickname johnny calls you n’it feels good; all light and airy on his tongue. the adjective has you sitting up straighter - preening and proud and staring at him wide-eyed and mesmerized. benny doesn’t know how it's possible but his love for you grows; stretchin' over his face in a passive smile. “baby,” he clicks his tongue against his teeth, sucking in a breath. “i jus’ dunno if i can do what you’re askin’.” but he wants to. he really fuckin’ wants to. the mere thought makes him giddy and hard and it shouldn’t because, fuck, regardless of what has happened in the past, you are johnny's girl. n'yeah, sometimes benny doesn't know who he is more jealous of, but that's beside the point. he can't do this - shouldn't want to do this - because johnny isn't here and everything he's done with you has been supervised by the older man. those spit-soaked breathless declarations of love grunted into the plush of your lips was okay'd by johnny. the lingering touches n'drunken late-night cuddles were approved by johnny and surely this isn't what johnny meant when he had benny promise to help you when he was out truckin'. it feels wrong, but benny can't help but see it as an opportunity. what was that his momma was always rattling on about never lookin’ a gift horse in the mouth? maybe the real life equivalent is never turnin’ a pretty girl down when she asks you to teach her to give a fuckin’ handjob.

“jus' wanna watch, s'all." your voice is garbled; shame clogging your windpipe as you shake your head, nuzzling into benny's palm, pressing a kiss to his heartline. "jus' let me watch." those big wet eyes soften as he scrapes his thumb along your bottom lip, collecting spit and chapstick on his journey n'he'd love nothing more than to pop the digit in his mouth just to get a taste of you, but he can't. he shouldn't, but then you're movin' closer, naked knees kissin' his, chiffon nightgown riding up your thigh and he knows he's fucked. "johnny'd be okay with it. loves you, y'know? n'plus, you know 'em better than anyone. you'll know what he likes.. what to show me." you're right - of course - benny does know exactly what johnny likes, and, shit - the old man's birthday is comin' up. if benny can teach ya the proper way to jerk a cock then that'd be somethin' of a gift, right? johnny's own gift horse.

he's also never told you no n'doesn't plan on starting now.

“alright,” he concedes. “i’ll help ya.”

your tears have dried, but your nose is still red n'benny can't help but smile at the way excitement practically drips off you as you watch him. you're sitting on your feet at the foot of the bed, hands folded nicely in your lap, waiting oh so patiently.

"what's got you obsessin' over this?" he asks, situating your fluffy pillow behind his head. he's trying to act like he's calm and cool n'not at all like he's about to cum in his fuckin' pants at the mere thought of jerking himself off with you less than three feet away. a soft smile plays your lips, shoulder kissing the underside of your jaw in a shrug.

"jus' feel like i need to get better at it," you have that breathless lilt in your voice - the one benny fuckin' adores - and he's already so hard it hurts. he's already so hard he's embarrassed, but you're such a respectful girl n'your eyes never wander past his neck - not yet anyway. "n'you're so good to me, benny. so good. figured you'd be the best person to ask." his cock twitches at your words, hips jumping at the soft tug of skin on cotton, n'he's ready. knows he won't last if you keep lookin' at him with those bitten-red lips so he goes for it.

"alright," he says. this is fine. "m'gonna - i guess - just - you know."

"touch yourself?" you ask, head cocked to the right like a goddamn puppy and he has to bite back a moan. you're too cute to be sayin' things like that - voice too soft, so sweet.

"yeah," benny nods, swallowing hard. "jus' gonna touch m'self. n'you can watch." he looses a breath, tells himself to calm the fuck down, and centers his attention. "johnny's always liked when ya - you know - press on 'em through his jeans." n'so benny does just that, palm now delivering delicious friction on his cotton covered dick. "never wanna do it too hard, just - fuck - just a little bit of pressure." you hum in acknowledgment, leaning forward just a bit. such a good listener. "s'jus' somethin' you do to get 'em goin' - warm 'em up." but benny is more than warmed up - his engine is fucking overheating - so he quickly moves on, poppin' the button with his thumb and index finger expertly. he slips his ringed hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, grunting at the dull tug of his rough hand against his smooth shaft.

"s'okay?" your voice is so sweet n' sugary that benny wants to sink his teeth into it.

"s'too dry. gotta make sure y've got some kinda lubrication. y'know? makes it nice and slick." like you benny wants to say, but doesn't. he withdrawals his hand, spits into it, and pushes the sloppy mess back into his shorts. "wanna - mm - wanna make sure it's nice and wet, yeah? could hurt 'em if you don't have enough spit on there."

"okay," you repeat, nodding. then, "can - benny can you - maybe, take 'em off? please? jus' so i can see?"

"can you take 'em off for me?" no no no he shouldn't have said that - should'a just stayed quiet - but you're undeterred. sweet face bright, head nodding fervently as benny retracts his hand and lets you delicately tug the fabric down down down until his cock is springing upward, smacking wetly against his stomach.

"wow," you murmur "s'pretty," those eyes peer up at him shyly, n'he has to look away because it's too much. he can't teach you how to jerk anyone off if he cums in the first two minutes. he's gotta get it together, but it's hard. your eyes meet once again, your smile grows when he thanks you n'pinches the round of your cheek.

"will you keep going? keep teachin' me?" you make no move to return to the corner of the bed, instead, you stay right where you are, knee wedged into the outer meat of benny's thigh. he certainly can't stop now.

"yeah, pretty. yeah. okay." his cock is so reactive to the cool air wooshing in through the window, so reactive to the sweet girl staring at it, that it weeps. precum oozes from the tip; seeps into the gentle divot of his belly button and over his knuckles. it's hard to hold back, but he does because he's good to you n'good to johnny. which reminds him, "whenever you grab 'em, don't wanna do it too tight. don't be squeezin' too hard, not at first, 'kay?"

"m'kay benny."

"just wanna - do it - like this." he demonstrates, curling his fingers 'round the base, stroking up gently. "n'johnny likes when ya twist your wrist, just - god - like this." the spit and precum make his cock glisten - make the stroke from base to tip that much more pleasurable - and you look starstruck; mouth hanging open, pupils following up and down and up and down and -

"benny can i try?"

he moans - too loud - too obscene for the quiet of your room. the mere thought of you watchin' is enough to make him bust, let alone you putting your hands on him. he lets out a shaky breath, and starts to tell you how that is not a good idea, how you shouldn't, how he doesn't want to coat your freshly painted nails in cum, but he doesn't. he doesn't say anything - just nods his head.

you wiggle closer, scoochin' between his thighs and he's not going to make it. he knows he simply will not make it out of this room alive with the way you're leanin' over him - inspecting his cock like you've never seen one when he knows you have. and then - jesus christ - you're holding up your hand, spitting into it the way he taught you and circling your fingers just above the mass of curls near his balls.

"oh fuck."

"m'sorry." you squeak, instantly letting go, but benny is thrashing his head to the side. grunt tearing from his throat.

"no, baby, god, s'okay. doin' good. g'head. do it again. move your hands, little faster."

and you do and it's so good - so talented you are. grip not too tight, just right. your little fingers are coated in his precum and your combined spit and he almost forgets why you're doin' this - for johnny - so you can learn for johnny.

"flick your wrist right - yeah yeah - right there each time, baby. fuck. s'good. johnny's g'nna be so proud of you. g'nna do so good for him. make 'em feel so special n'good." benny s'never much of a talker but he'd fucking write sonnets if it meant you'd keep your fist wrapped around him. you're pullin' noises out of him that you never knew he could make n'so you just have to ask

"s'this what johnny sounded like when you learned on 'em?" and benny almost chokes on your words, but they only seem to spur him on; warmth coils in his belly, brushes against his balls, and settles deep in his cock.

"god, yeah." he remembers so clearly it fuckin' brings tears to his eyes. "b-but i think y'gonna be better than me, darlin'. got such a - jesus - good grip. look so pretty tuggin' my cock." benny's golden halo of curls spreads across the pillow as he tips his head, relishing in the repetitive schlick of skin on skin. you're makin' these cute little preens he's only ever heard through the wall when you’re with johnny and fuck fuck fuck it's coming. he knows it's coming, can feel his balls drawing up, feel his breath quickening, warmth spreadin' through his every artery.

"gonna cum, baby. fuck. gotta show you - oh fuck - whenever i tell ya, need ya to put your mouth on it? 'kay? no teeth, keep strokin', yeah? be a good girl. do it for me? for johnny?"

"yeah," you murmur. "yeah. okay, benny" you keep your grip firm as he fucks into your fist. he's desperate. you never thought you'd use the word to describe benny but he's so desperate making all of these pretty sounds as his legs twitch and shake; as he calls you beautiful and pretty and perfect.

"fuck, now. now. now."

you're great at following the rules - johnny always tells ya - so you bend, wrapping your lips around benny's tip, allowing him to fuck into your fist and mouth as he paints your tongue with his seed. it's dirty and euphoric and everything. you are everything to benny. everything as his world is diminished to nothing and he’s born again.

"c-c'mere." he pants, after a few moments. he doesn’t wait for you to act on your own; strong hands grab your forearms, pulling you up, pressin' you against his mouth. he can taste himself on your lips, sweet and salty and he can't stop. he licks and licks and licks until any trace of him is gone, until he thinks he can taste johnny. until he can't breathe. "s'a good job, baby.” he shudders. “johnny's gonna be so happy."

and he is.

it's many days and handjobs later when johnny finally stumbles into the darkened house, stopping to catch you as you fling yourself on him. n'god, it's good to be home. good to feel his sweet girl so warm in his arms. his scruff scratches your neck as he breathes you in, n'he can smell it. smell him. benny.

"you were right," you breathe, smiling wide. "benny taught me."

"n'how'd it go?"

"let me show you."