#how did some of these even get approved?? wild to me!

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s5 episode 10 thoughts

after yesterday's trees that ate people, i am curious to see where we are going. however, i have heard that this episode and the 2 after it are very good, so i am excited to see where this takes us.

post-episode review: another contender for my (now crowded) best episodes of all time list! but take us back to yesterday...

let's read the description here... oh! this happens in a coastal town in maine? are we going to see BEACH mulder and scully? oh! this is giving me many ideas!

and yes, the description also mentions a girl and a doll i assume to be evil, but hey! maine! salt water taffy! seashells! lobsters! moose! blueberries! a quaint little motel!

ah, can you picture it? oh, do i need to write some sort of vacation fic? has this seed been planted? and will it continue to grow?

let us find out!

this girl (polly) has a creepy doll. she is glaring at her mother (melissa). she must not want to go shopping. don’t make eye contact, old lady who walks by them. that child has an evil spirit. i can tell. 

“i don’t like this store, mommy” <- so does she like other stores? other grocery stores? can she sense something here that displeases her? her mother clarifies that they will only be a minute 

ohhhh, when she says she wants to go home, the doll’s eyes open. don’t care for that. AND THE DOLL TALKS?? 

poor mom sees visions of the butcher stabbing himself in the eye?? and the cart’s wheels go wild!!!

“please, don’t do this to mommy”, melissa begs her child <- so she KNOWS that her daughter and/or the doll are somehow responsible for all this??? GIRL!!! she just needs to eat!! they haven’t invented doordash yet!! how will polly get her food?? does she have to go to a different, polly and doll approved, grocery store?? or must they simply starve??

ohhh OH THIS WOMAN IS CLAWING OUT HER EYES??? WHAT IS WITH THE EYES!? 

EVERYONE IS CLAWING OUT THEIR EYES!!!! AUGH AUGH AUGH WHAT THE FUCK, POLLY????? 

the butcher (dave) tries to call 911- somehow he is able to resist the call to scratch- but the fucking DOLL IS ON THE OTHER LINE???

girl. that doll needs to be thrown in the ocean NOW. you can’t be doing this to my boy dave. 

NOOOO HE REALLY DOES STAB HIMSELF IN THE EYE 💔

bleurgh. bleeeugh. pour one out for dave.

and to think! i was just pondering saltwater taffy and the dynamics of coastal msr!!

ohhh, but this little town is so cute!!!! is scully on vacation???

OHHH SHE’S GETTING GAS FOR HER FANCY CAR IN A MAINE T SHIRT AND SUNGLASSES <3 ohhh…. ohhhhh… vacation scully… i am holding her so gently

(she must have been so excited to get that silly little souvenir shirt if she had it on before she even got there... and i love that for her)

who calls her at this hour? (as if we need to ask!)

“mulder, i thought we had an agreement. we were both going to take the weekend off” (he is fully in his office playing around with his chair) LMAOOOO

this man physically cannot relax. “right, right, right, i know. but i-i-i just received some information about-about a case” <- at least he seems self-conscious about the fact that he is breaking their agreement

AWW, SHE JUST WANTS TO CHILL 

“you didn’t rent a convertible, did you?” “why?” “are you aware of the statistics of decapitation?” <- grown ass man playing on a chair when he says this, btw. please worry about yourself.

(it is so funny how badly he wanted to hear her voice but cannot bring himself to talk about normal human conversation topics, such as the vacation she is about to embark upon)

LMAO SHE INFORMS HIM THAT SHE IS HANGING UP LIKE HE IS A SMALL CHILD!!! AND HE SEEMS SURPRISED WHEN SHE DOES

aww, the poor man is just a loser!

(reading these notes back for editing purposes and i am STILL laughing. god, he's such a nerd.

he's thinking, "hey, i know we promised to not talk about work for 2 whole days, but i missed you. do you want to talk about work? please don't get decapitated, honey. oh man, she hung up on me :("

meanwhile, she's thinking "for the love of god. just let me have a nice vacation. yes, mulder, you want to solve a mystery, but i need a break. no, i won't get my head cut off. okay, i'm saying goodbye now. GOODBYE.")

she rolls off in her convertible. which is a mustang, btw. serve. and melissa and polly nearly run her over. she looks pissed at their erratic driving.

woah! she is at the store where the eyeball gouging just took place. she finds all of the grocery store customers with blood on their faces!!!! but luckily, most seem to have intact eyeballs.

NOOO, DAVE THE BUTCHER MIGHT BE DEAD and his eyeball is very much not intact

damn. so much for a chill vacation.

(author's note: it's so funny to me how scully was not going to let this stop her from chilling. she was going to get right back to the beach after watching a grocery store full of people claw at their own eyeballs. me, i would have been calling the whole trip off and heading home after seeing such a horrible sight. her need to relax after so many years of alien nonsense is unmatched. not even demon doll could come between this queen and her vacation)

cutscene to mulder in his office, where a distinct moaning noise is coming from his TV. oh god. and he’s sitting there with sunflower seeds. LMAO?? he’s just sitting and watching.... this. not even doing anything but snacking. 

NOOOO SHE CALLS AND HEARS IT 💔 “what are you watching, mulder?” OH GOD WHAT IS HE GONNA SAY?

he claims to be watching “the deadliest swarms” <- utterly gagged at that man watching porn while just sitting in his office. stone-faced. and then lying about it. what does this say about his character?

BUT IT REALLY WAS DEADLIEST SWARMS LMAOOOO THE MAN AND WOMAN MOANING HAVE BEES IN THEIR FUCKING EYES I’M CRYINGGGGG

my asexual king. i should have never doubted you.

(author's note: still losing my mind at this as i edit, btw. i was fully convinced that mulder brought porn to his office to watch at work on the weekend, and i was thinking "well, it's not the STRANGEST thing he's done" but no. he's at work on the weekends to watch bugs sting people in the eyeballs. for research purposes. god. what a guy. i wish i could have a glimpse into if scully believed his statement or not. have they talked about this TV program before? is this what he does with his very limited time off?)

“it sounds to me like that’s witchcraft or maybe some sorcery that you’re looking for there”, he comments. “no, i don’t think it’s witchcraft, mulder, or sorcery” (said while the local policemen look on in shock at her saying those words) LMAOOO

“yeah, well, maybe you don’t know what you’re looking for”

“like evidence of conjury or the black arts, or shamanism, divination, wicca, or any kind of pagan or neo-pagan practice? charms, cards, familiars, bloodstones or hex signs, or any of the ritual tableaux associated with the occult, santeria, vodoun, macumba, or any high or low magic?” <- LMAO she said i’ve been taking notes on your theories, boy

“scully?” “yes?” “marry me” “i was hoping for something a little more helpful” <- LMAOOOOOOOOOOOO GOD. the way her face doesn’t even change while his looks SO FUCKING SERIOUS. he's in awe of her. hold on. i had to rewatch that like three times. i'm absolutely HOWLING over here.

and to be fair, had she said that string of words to me on the phone as well, i would have reacted in the same way! i cannot fault him there.

while watching the footage of what went down at the grocery store, she notices that melissa is the only one who seems unaffected. the police seem to not believe that means anything until she politely points out that maybe they should talk to melissa about the whole situation, and then she tries to get tf out of there LMAOOO she is not going to let ANYTHING interrupt vacation time!!!!

“people here say she’s a witch” “well, that’s not the first time for that accusation in these parts” <- LMAO GET HIM AGAIN FOR ME

ohhhh, the cop says that melissa was “carrying on” with dave the butcher… who is now dead… well! that is deeply suspicious!!!

a policeman named buddy is trying to call melissa while polly and the doll listen to some old timey music. polly COMMANDS her to hang up. i fear the consequences for what will happen if melissa continues her chat.

nooooo :( buddy the cop tells melissa that dave is dead… but the doll is speaking now, because polly is being ignored!!! melissa says he can’t come here, but buddy insists on coming. 

so, again, it seems melissa knows that the doll is committing the crimes….

scully arrives with the other cop, named jack, to melissa and polly's house. scully is in her killer outfit of: blazer, maine t shirt, and sunglasses. looking like a million bucks. she proceeds to do the cop's job better than he does when she notices the backdoor is wide open. 

feels so strange to see scully in jeans. i make note of this special occasion

ohhh, she’s in the little girl’s room which could be sensitive for her... but she seems fine. 

(author's note: i keep getting jarred by how much they are NOT acknowledging the whole emily plotline... here i was thinking that this child's room would bring scully to tears and she's just looking around, observing as always... the writers truly did not give a damn)

lore reveal: melissa’s husband died in a boating accident… or did he…?

allegedly, polly is autistic, and the daycare lady slapped her across the face after a tantrum!!! what!! you can’t do this!! scully seems shocked to hear of the slapping (but she keeps it very professional, as she always does) and then MORE shocked to hear that the daycare lady was knocked on the ground. by the little girl. but the cop said she never touched her.

yes, i am sure that the ghost doll can do impossible things, even attacking old ladies. the daycare lady got fired for the slapping (well, yes!) and the people call melissa a witch as a result (um... not her fault?)

(why are there so many people named melissa in this show? could we not get a little creative? did the writers only know of 3 or 4 names? crack open a yearbook or one of those baby names books that writers use, damn!)

omg, so the tea is that dave had a WIFE, but was still trying to get with melissa!!! but melissa did not want him like that. a queen who stays in her lane.

scully notices that the windows are all nailed shut. maybe melissa nailed the windows in because she was afraid of something getting out…? like an evil ghost doll?

buddy gives the girl polly some ice cream as he tries to question melissa in this restaurant. buddy offers to give melissa some money so she can get away. is this, like, a kindness thing? oh no, he’s in love with her, seems like. says he missed his first chance around. well. i guess we can never have a man doing the right thing out of sheer selflessness. this is TV, after all.

she says she has seen things… meanwhile polly is DEMANDING more cherries from the ice cream lady. (and polly has strange taste. i like those cherries too, but they're very strong; one or two will do the job)

melissa tells buddy that she saw dave dead before he died! and it wasn’t the first time!!! she saw her husband before he died, too! buddy seems to take this news better than expected.

ohhh, this lady at the ice cream counter says polly has to ask her mom for money to buy more cherries… i assume she does not have much longer to live

the doll opens its eyes IN THE RESTAURANT, and melissa says it’s time to go, knowing what is about to go down. buddy tries to give her a key to a place they used to go hunting, but NOOOOOO, the ice cream lady’s head is stuck in the ice cream machine!!!!!!!

melissa takes polly and the doll and they book it.

this is an injustice to food service professionals everywhere.

the other cop guy- the one named named jack- is visiting jane, the old lady from the very beginning of the episode who briefly made eye contact with polly. and scully is here too!!

okay, so jane immediately launches into saying that melissa is from a line of witches. cool, cool. this must be the lady who ran the daycare. scully looks amused as she slams the door in their faces and remarks on “new england hospitality” lmaooo

(she claims she's heard about it all her life, but never experienced it- is this her first journey to new england? like, recreationally, and not for work? omg! the cali girl is being exposed to the northeast! culture shock! she is learning the ways of mulder and his people!)

ah yes, we see as they leave that the sign on the door of jane’s house shows it’s the daycare. well, FORMER daycare.

scully wants to know if this lineage of witches thing is really all talk. and the policeman jack cannot figure out why he would want to bring melissa in. LMAO despite him being entirely incompetent at his job, scully does NOT WANT TO HELP I’M CRYING. she is PROTECTING HER PEACE!!!

melissa and polly pull up to the cabin buddy gave them the key to. ohhh, she doesn’t have any gear… and it’s winter up here. girl! how will they eat!!

polly wants her BED and her RECORDS, and the doll is AWAKE. so now melissa’s racing home after seeing a dead jane in her rear window!!!

back at her home, the records are going off… jane is here, for some reason, perhaps to investigate the loud noises despite there being no one home... and when she takes off the record off the player…. NOOOO, NOT HER STABBING HERSELF WITH THE BROKEN RECORD!!!!!!!!!!!!

scully is taking a nice bubble bath, trying to relax… with some classical music…. but the phone is ringing!!! she slams the door with her foot LMAO and awww she gets out and wraps her hair in a towel <3 i love relaxed scully <3

wait, hold on, what is this book next to the phone…? allow me to pause. “affirmation for women who do too much” by adrianna carrillo… now hold on, i need to look into this… 

okay, so it doesn’t seem to be a real book, but instead a play on “meditations for women who do too much”, which has a very similar book cover and was published in the 90's. huh. the more you know! i wonder if copyright laws prevented the prop team from having the real thing.

we all know that she is, in fact, a woman who does too much. so i am glad she is affirming herself.

anyway, what was going on? yes, evil doll. there's a message on the phone. she does not play it. SHE DOES TOO MUCH ALREADY!!!!

AND the policeman jack is at her door!!! noooooo, she cannot get a break!!

they find jane dead with the record player…. they're investigating at the crime scene when the cop gets a call and says "it's for you"

LMAOOO, HOW DID MULDER FIND THE POLICEMAN’S NUMBER, I’M CRYING???

(AND he says he called the hotel!! how did he find the hotel room's number?? he is a sleuth)

“hey, morning, sunshine!” he says happily (loud thumping over the phone) BAHAHA WHAT IS GOING ONNN?

he was worried about her!!! LMAOOOOO HE SAYS THEY’RE DOING CONSTRUCTION RIGHT OUTSIDE HIS WINDOW, BUT HE WAS REALLY JUST BOUNCING HIS BASKETBALL BAHAHAA

awwww, he really WAS worried... he gets separation anxiety. that damn ball of his gets good use when he is nervous!!

omg… we finally get a decent look at his wall art while he is standing there in his underwear…. it’s just houses. sort of abstract, colorful, houses. with heavy lines. hmm. i will make assumptions on his character based on this.

BAHAHA AND MULDER THINKS THERE’S A SCIENTIFIC EXPLANATION FOR HER CASE oh my gosh he thinks it’s dancing sickness KING, SHE KNOWS WHAT THAT IS!!!

why is the only thing this man has in his fridge a bottle of orange juice? and it is presumably expired, because he makes an awful face when he takes a sip, and then we see that it says “oct 97” on the carton, which i take it is not. so is this set in 98? early 98? since we just passed chrismas?

god. how has he stayed alive this long? is there some sort of cafeteria at the FBI he sustains himself with?

LMAO HE SPITS THE JUICE BACK OUT AND SHE HANGS TF UP BAHAHAAA

she has had enough!! she called this guy jack and said maybe we need to keep our minds open to extreme possibilities (gasp!) LMAOOO “okay, but aren’t you on vacation?” <- SHE NEEDS A RAISE!! MAYBE IF YOU COULD DO YOUR JOB, JACK, SHE COULD TAKE A VACATION FOR REAL!!

now polly and the doll are back at home, and OH, the doll is breathing as the two sleep next to each other. this is not something that i care for. melissa is trying to do something to stop the doll's reign of terror, but it opens its eyes and catches her…. so she cries downstairs. NO! not a dead buddy vision!!!!

LMAOOO meanwhile scully is utterly gagged at the size of this lobster she’s splitting with jack: “that looks like something out of jules verne. we’re supposed to eat that?” <- SHE’S SUCH A NERD I’M CRYINGGGG

she really is experiencing new england culture shock and it is hilarious

she’s trying to learn about melissa’s husband’s death as jack manhandles this lobster. the boat he died on is out the window…

this damn doll keeps replaying the hokey pokey over and over again. count your days, demon!!!

ohhh, buddy is here at melissa's place to take her into the station!!! and he sees the doll open her doll eyes….

scully is trying to figure out wtf went down the night melissa’s husband died, as she now talks to this grizzled old sailor who was there with him on that fateful evening

“i told my story to the chief”, he says; “people’s story’s change”, she answers <- ohhhh yeah, she IS a noir detective, yes ma’am!

omg, melissa's husband/polly's dad found that freaky ass doll in the ocean!!! it was the night before polly's birthday, so he thought it was a gift from the sea!! and he heard the doll talking…. and then the old grizzled fisherman found melissa’s husband with the HOOK THROUGH HIS SKULL BLEUGGHHH?

(this episode was funny but the gore was SHEESH)

ohhh, and he put together that the doll was involved when he saw them in the store that morning

(her phone rings) “oh hey, i thought you weren’t answering your cell phone” he’s TWIRLING the literal phone line while he calls her i’m CRYING this man is down TERRIBLE

OHHH HE IS TRYING TO FIND ANOTHER SCIENTIFIC EXPLANATION WHEN SHE ASKS IF THERE ARE ANY REFERENCES IN OCCULT LITERATURE TO EVIL DOLLS LMAOOOO

he starts explaining and then she says that she “was just curious”, probably because his heart would be broken if he knew she found a haunted doll without him. turns out there is quite a history of them in new england!

“i would suggest that you check the back of the doll for a-a plastic ring with a string on it” (she rolls her eyes and hangs up) 

LMAOOOOOO STOP my face hurts from smiling at this episode. why is he like that!

poor melissa is crying, making popcorn at the stove for the screaming polly, while BUDDY IS DEAD ON THE FLOOR!!!!!! NO MELISSA!!

she hammers the windows and doors shut even more…. but the doll cannot stand the pounding!!! and melissa sees herself dead in the window!!!! nooo!

scully and jack roll up just in time to either save the day or watch it get much, much worse. 

omfg is melissa gonna set the whole house on fire?????? but she can’t get a match to light!!!! the doll keeps blowing it out!!!

from outside the house, scully sees buddy dead on the floor!!!! and the doll won’t let melissa grab a knife!!!! but the demon doll somehow opens up the locked cabinet and gets the hammer!!!!

scully is absolutely SLAMMING herself into that door to open it, but NOOOO the doll says “i don’t like you anymore” and makes melissa take the hammer and JAM IT IN HER OWN FACE?!?!?!?!?!?

scully and jack finally break in!! scully takes the doll away from polly despite her many refusals and PUTS IT IN THE MICROWAVE?? YAAAS THE DEMON CATCHES FIRE!!!!!!!!! scully is very dramatically watching that doll burn….

(this had me absolutely CRYING. she had no time for science that day. she was on vacation. if there is going to be an evil demon doll while she is off the clock, she is going to throw that mfer in the microwave and watch it go up in flames. extreme possibilities are allowed, but ONLY when it is not her duty to save the world.)

((also laughing that the doll was able to put out matches and throw knives and make people gouge out their eyes, but scully putting her in the microwave was so unpredictable this demon had zero defense against it. that, or her catholic powers simply neutralized the evil presence, rendering the doll immobile in her godly hands. i choose to imagine it is a combination of both))

while mulder is sharpening a ton of pencils and putting them in rows back in the office LMAOOOO

scully finally returns to the basement office! she tells mulder she wants to send his famous wall poster to "some guy named jack"!!! he seems unbothered by this, whereas i was shocked! and then she denies doing any work on the case while up there, saying she was just on vacation. ah, if only we could have seen her frolicking on the beach after those incidents.

what did mulder get up to while she was away? “oh god, i mean, it’s amazing what i can accomplish without incessant meddling or questioning into everything i do” (pencils begin to fall on him from the ceiling, as we pan up and see like, 40 pencils launched up there) LMAOOO

“there’s got to be an explanation” “some things are better left unexplained” fair enough

a cutscene back to maine... NOOOO, another fisherman hauls out the haunted doll while the hokey pokey ominously plays in the background 💔

i hope he promptly tossed her back into the watery grave. let her torment some fish instead.

so, final thoughts: scully putting the doll in the microwave… she really is THE final girl, huh?

this episode was soooo silly. i loved it. mulder had no brain cells. scully took a bath and made a friend who she wants to send a poster to. she is gagged by lobster. lmaoooooooo mulder missed her SO bad, he was trying to do science to impress her, bahaha. and she had her little maine shirt on!!! the role reversal of him being the science-centered one because he wants to talk to her that badly, and her being the one willing to deal with demons for a few days also killed me.

def going on the list of faves.

i think it is so funny that she was so focused on relaxing for once in her life that she truly did not give a single fuck if that doll was possessed or not. normally she would be scrambling for explanations, and today she simply did not have the time. she wanted to take a nice bubble bath, listen to orchestral music, read her little book, and if a demon was going to get in the way of that, then she would simply stop it and move along with her roadtrip. and i think that is beautiful.

and to answer my earlier question: YES, i still want a REAL joint msr vacation fic with REAL relaxation and REAL saltwater taffy and splashing and no murder dolls, but maybe like ONE ghost tour because new england is old and spooky, and then mulder can ask if they want to get married for real and they can go hiking or some other nerd activity and be happy forever and always <3 the end!

[r0semultiverse]

Anyone gotten these variations yet? 👀

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Spicy Stories

JK Rowling: hello children Poe: oh Poe: oh joanne Poe: you're back Rowling: i have concernss Poe: uh we're mostly about just telling stories here Poe: you have your own campfire for your terf stuff don't you? Rowling: yess but they've really been getting on my nervess lately

Rowling: you know how it iss with terf deatheaterss Poe: not really Rowling: alwayss agreeing with everything i ssay Rowling: all "oh yes dark lord" this and "oh spare me dark lord" that Rowling: ssometimess you jusst get tired of hearing "masterful gambit dark lord"

Rowling: i tell you, you don't know how hard it is to run a cult L Ron Hubbard: oh yeah woof big mood Hubbard: people think its all fun, but its actually a lot of work Rowling: I know right????

Poe: regardless, joanne, i'm going to have to put my foot down Poe: this campfire is just for stories Rowling: uhhh actually i do have a new ssstory Rowling: i wass insspired to write after having an argument on the internet Barker: oh damn no shit? Barker: that's wild

Rowling: it's a new harry potter ssstory King: oh man! it's about time, i've been hoping for a new potter story for ages! Rowling: itss about hermione going back in time to help grindelwald, who actually had sssome good points if you think about it

Rowling: i call it Rowling: the time turner diariesss Barker: wow this is not really funny anymore Baker: its like INTENSELY not funny Lovecraft: catchy title tho!

Rowling: i'm retconning grindelwald into a misundersstood idealisst Rowling: who was only forced to make hard choicess because of the unreassonablenesss of decadent weimar society

Rowling: oh also you know that thing where people kept criticizing me cuz technically grindelwald's "evil" plan was to prevent the holocaust? Rowling: well good news Rowling: i've rectified that little mistake

Rowling: like, why would the naziss target transs & queer people, traditionally the most powerful and widely accepted memberss of ssociety? Rowling: would not the naziss, famouss for their love of diverssity, actually approve of them? Rowling: i'm jusst asskin questions

King: actually joanne there's a lot of well-documented evidence Barker: give it up steve King: no no i can fix this King: i'm sure if i just lay out the facts in a logical, well-reasoned manner- Barker: oh god that's so cute Barker: don't you just love him? Poe: that's our steve

King: so you see the nazi book burning of the institute for sexualwissenschaft- Rowling: nope Rowling: didn't happen King: King: well it kinda did, see, as i was saying- Rowling: thiss iss missogyny

Rowling: i don't undersstand you lot at all Rowling: i come into your campfire, i make a sstatement that i really want to be true & you all refuse to accept it Rowling: thiss issn't the way it works over with my terf deatheaters at all Rowling: they love accepting things i ssay!

Rowling: it'ss actually really missogynisstic that you all refusse to accept what i'm ssaying asss truth Rowling: even though you all know how badly i want it to be true King: but joanne, it isn't true- Rowling: ssave it for court ssteve!

Mary Shelley: sup fuckers Shelley: i got here late wot's going on? Barker: joanne is doing holocaust denial Rowling: EXCUSE ME it'ss only holocausst denial if you quesstion the murder of jews Rowling: tho now that i think about it i do have some questionss

Rowling: like, would they not have ussed their goblin magic to essscape? Lovecraft: ya know, she makes a good point Sonia Greene: i'm right here howard Lovecraft: Greene: see, this is why i don't talk much

[sturnioz]

♯┆fully introducing. . . shy!chris .ᐟ

shy!chris does have a big mouth, and he likes to boast about all the women that he's fucked with confidence — so why did he turn into a stuttering mess when you finally have him?

"yeah, and like, she was all over me, man — couldn't get enough of me, i swear to god... and then—"

you half-listen as chris boast about his recent hook-up to your shared group of friends, swirling your plastic straw around your drink, hearing the ice clink against the glass in a distant chime. leaning forwards, elbows resting on the table, you take a sip while glancing up at chris, watching as his hands fly through the air, punctuating his words as he tries to paint a vivid picture of his wild night.

the others around the table are completely captivated, their mouths agape, eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and excitement. they gasp, laugh, and lean in closer, hanging on his every word. now and then, they playfully slap his back or shoulder, egging him on as he basks in the attention. listen in intently, mouths agape, eyes wide, gasping and laughing at his choice of words, even slapping his back and shoulder as he boasts.

honestly? you find it hard to believe him.

sure, chris is extremely attractive — his messy hair, striking smile, pearly whites, and a charm that easily draws people in. it wouldn't exactly be shocking if he was meeting girls. but the sheer number he claims to get into his bed, and the way he describes the way he fucks, it just doesn't add up.

he always blushes whenever you and the girls in your group wear revealing outfits or bikinis during beach trips, his eyes always darting away as if he's trying to hide from them. that shy, stuttering awkwardness feels worlds apart from the confident persona he projects during these apparent hook-up talks.

"who is she?" you find yourself chiming into the conversation, not missing the way chris' body seems to tense up for a moment before forcing smiling, shaking his head.

"i uh, i don't know. some girl i met at a party. i.. don't remember the names of one-night stands, y'know? doesn't.. doesn't make sense if i do, right?" chris looks around at the others for their approval, and some nod their heads with a hum. "as long as i gave her a good time, which i did, that's all the matters—"

"you went to a party?" the words slip out before you can stop yourself. you know you should ease off, especially if it risks making a complete fool out of him, but you can't stop. "when?"

"like... last weekend, yeah," chris nods, almost as if he's confirming it for himself. you hum softly, and chris fidgets in his seat, turning to face you fully, raising his eyebrow. "do you.. do you not believe me, or somethin'?"

"no, i'm just... curious," you reply with a grin, teeth biting down on the straw in your drink. chris stares at you for a moment, processing your words, before forcing out a laugh that feels a bit strained.

"curious about my sex life?" chris huffs, nudging a friend beside him with a playful elbow. "she wants proof, kid. wants to see how good this dick is—"

"actually, yeah," you cut in, your voice steady. chris freezes up, his eyes widening in surprise as the others at the table gape at you, their expressions a mix of shock and amusement.

you know you should probably stop now, but something inside you urges to push back. you want to challenge him, and playing with his little jab feels like the only way to do that.

you lean back in your seat, arms crossed, a smirk playing on your lips as you continue, "i want to know how great you claim to be in bed."

now, you didn't expect to chris to actually nod his head and go through with it — acting all smug and confident in front of your friends. it was clear he took what you said as a joke, and that irked you a little bit, so you stand up from the table, telling him to leave the diner with you right now. chris is stunned again, blinking rapidly as if he couldn't quite process your sudden demand, and a light blush creeps across his cheeks as he laughs nervously, standing up and following you out.

and what you also didn't expect was for chris to be laid out beneath you, his bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead, eyebrows scrunched together in pleasure and plush lips parted with heavy gasps as you ride him, the blankets bunched loose around your waist. his cock does hit all the right places, and truthfully it feels extremely good, but you're pleased to see how much of a stuttering mess he is as his hands grip your thighs, jumbled words leaving his lips.

"oh ffuuuck.. jus' — ah... shit. l-like that, please. oh god... you're so — this feels — you feel... oh shit shit shit. m'sorry.. not gonna last. god, you're fuckin' amazing."

© STURNIOZ

[nerdy-novelist017]

Ponytails and Promises (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader pt 5)

I'm sorry it's taken such a long time to get this posted ☹️ I've been dealing with a few health problems lately and it's made it hard to be creative. I'm not super proud of this but I hope you enjoy it regardless. As always, I'm so grateful for all of you wonderful readers! 🫶

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 3.1k+

Summary- Time spent apart has both Benny and yourself wondering what the other is thinking.

******

For the tenth time in a row, you rehearsed what you were going to say as you peddled your bicycle down the street, the morning sun shining through the trees above. You’d been up all night, a ball of nerves working its way through your tummy in preparation of today’s meeting. The diner was busy when you approached, cars and even a few motorcycles parked out front. You hopped off your bike, swallowing thickly as you propped it in the bicycle rack. You tried to spot his motorcycle but quickly scolded yourself for even remembering the particular design of his. Thankfully, you didn’t see it in the lineup. You smoothed out your ponytail and checked your romper for any signs of creasing that he might not like. Satisfied with your appearance, you pushed the front door open and scanned the inside. 

He sat at a booth on the far side and you swallowed your nerves and did a quick assessment of him as you neared. He didn’t look to be physically injured and you breathed a sigh of relief. He looked up when you stood before him and flashed you a quick, fleeting smile. As he said your name and it almost sounded unfamiliar to you. 

“Hi, Pete,” you smiled as you waited for him to stand to greet you. 

He nodded, motioning for you to sit and you tried not to appear dispirited as you slid into the opposite booth. There was a Coca-Cola bottle in front of him and you noticed that he’d ordered you water. You had to remind yourself that he didn’t know you very well yet and that he probably didn’t recall you preferred coke too. 

“You look very nice,” you said, attempting to cut through the awkwardness between you. 

He nodded again, murmuring a thanks.

Okay, better to get straight to your rehearsed lines, you supposed. “Thank you for meetin’ with me. A–and I owe you an apology. Pete, I had no idea he was going to do that.”

“Who was he?” Pete asked directly, cutting your speech short.

You put your hands out of the table in front of you, playing with the straw wrapper as you spoke, “He’s just some guy, a biker–”

“Yeah, I got that. I mean how do you know him?” 

“He . . . was somebody I met when I was out with Kathy. Met him at a picnic,” you explained carefully as your gaze searched Pete’s eyes behind his glasses. “Remember, the one I told you about?”

“She’s becoming a bit of a wild thing, huh?” he asked and you could sense that it wasn’t really a question. There was a blatant statement hanging in his tight voice. 

“She’s always been like that, I think,” you replied, trying to smother the defensive tone in your voice. “And I was only there for a short time, but I guess he took a liking to me.”

Pete hummed, glanced out the window for a moment so you continued, “Anyway, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for what he did. You’re a really good person and you don’t deserve that.” You considered reaching across the table to touch his hand, but he leaned back in his seat before you could. “And. . . I was excited about our date.”

“Do your parents know about where you went? About him?” He seemed not to hear your last statement. 

“No,” you admitted, brow furrowing. In fact, you haven’t told anyone about your date with Benny. Not even Kathy. You just came straight home and went up to bed where you laid awake for hours, mind reeling through every conversation the two of you shared, every word he spoke. 

“They’d never approve of that,” he pointed out as he looked back at you. 

“Well, they’re never going to find out because I don’t plan on seeing him again,” you stated, looking down at the condensation building on the outside of your untouched water glass. 

“Good.” The corner of his mouth quirked up. “You don’t belong with a group like that, anyway.”

It was strange hearing that from Pete. It was the same affirmation you had told yourself over and over again last night, but hearing him tell you that, as if you didn’t have a choice in the matter, left a bad taste in your mouth. All you could say was, “Yeah. . .”

You wanted to ask exactly what Benny had said to him, but before you could, Pete leaned forward, seeming to be in better spirits and said, “Dolls like you belong on a shelf where they can be admired and not broken.”

His words, at face value, were sweet, kind, but you couldn’t shake an uneasy feeling that toyed in the back of your mind. Pete was the safe choice, you had to remind yourself. Pete was everything you had wanted for your future-husband, for your life. He wanted you to be exactly who you were raised to be. You could be a quiet doll whose whole existence was to sit on a shelf and look pretty. 

You nodded, leaning forward to take a sip of your water as an excuse to not speak. 

“I’m glad we worked through this,” he said as he waved down the waitress to order. 

“Me too,” you said quietly as he ordered for you. And you meant it, you did. But something felt different with him now. There was a shift that seemed to occur and you weren’t sure what it was or if it would ever resolve. Pete didn’t seem to notice as he prattled on about his upcoming golf tournament, falling into a one-sided conversation that he was comfortable with. 

As you absentmindedly picked at your plate of breakfast, you wondered —just briefly— if Benny was eating breakfast right now and if he was, what was on his plate? 

When there was a lapse in silence, you looked up at Pete, suddenly asking, “Are you still planning on coming to the charity picnic with me today?”

His brows pinched together. “What charity picnic?”

“The one I told you about last week? It’s for the children of Chicago fund. Our church is hosting the cookout, remember?” You asked, specifically recalling having this conversation with him on your first date. But you gave him the benefit of the doubt; maybe he had been trying to process a lot of new information about you and this slipped his mind. 

“Oh, right.” He adjusted the glasses on his nose. “I’ll have to check my schedule, make sure I don’t have anything else going on today.”

“Okay,” you nodded. He confirmed that he could go with you a week ago already. You slid out from the booth, grabbing your purse. “Well, I’ll maybe see you there then?”

He followed you, standing to his feet also. “Yeah.”

You made your way outside and he touched your arm before you could reach your bike. You were afraid that maybe he wanted to kiss you as he leaned forward but he only put his arms around you in a friendly hug instead. 

“Bye, (Y/N),” he said as he broke free, turning and going back to his car. 

“Goodbye, Pete.” 

******

Benny lifted the glass to his lips, downing the rest of his drink. The scent of cigarette smoke and motor oil hung heavy in Cal’s garage where he, Johnny, Wahoo and Corky sat around as Cal worked on Corky’s bike. Benny’s eyes burned as he rubbed his face tiredly. He hadn’t slept well last night – worse than the few hours a night he usually got. His mind was too busy, filled with thoughts of you. Of the way your hair cascaded over your shoulder, of the way your dimples show when you smiled brightly. Of the way you looked so damn beautiful even when you were angry. And you were angry at him of all people which admittedly, he still didn't quite understand why. You were upset that he overstepped, sure. He got that. But when it came to a man like Pete? Benny could take one look at that man and see the strained facade he wore like a mask. Benny’s always been good at reading people, at seeing past the guise. And Pete was no good. 

“What do you think, Benny?” someone had asked, drawing him back to reality. 

“‘Bout what?” he asked, looking up at the faces around the garage.

“About the radiator hose,” Cal informed as he motioned to the stripped down bike and Benny honestly didn’t hear what was even wrong with it in the first place. 

“Probably no good,” he replied with a shrug as he dug out his pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket.

As if Johnny sensed Benny’s more than usual reserve, he asked. “Hey, how’d the date go with Bunny last night?”

Benny glanced up at him. “Went good except I think she’s pissed at me.”

Cal laughed. “How could you consider that good then?”

Benny shot him a narrowed look. “We had a misunderstanding.”

“Are ya sure she’s mad?” Wahoo spoke up from the other side of the motorcycle. “When my old lady is horny, she just acts like she’s mad so I spank her and that really gets her going.” 

Benny sighed. “No, she’s mad.”

“Why? What’d you do?” Johnny inquired. 

Benny wanted to argue in his own defense but shrugged. “She’s upset that I had to run off her date.”

“She had a date?” 

“Mh-hm, church-going fellow.” Benny lit his cigarette, taking a long drag of it before continuing, “Caught him before she knew he was there.”

“Did ya kill him or somethin’?” Corky’s eyes widened. 

“Nah, just had a talk with him,” Benny clarified as he stood from his lawn chair, moving to look out the bay door. “He was late to their date anyway and . . . I just wanted to have a talk with him, see what kind of man he was. And I didn’t like what I saw.” He was one of those men who pretended to be something he’s not, who perfected the craft of lying to people – especially women. And Benny didn’t have any respect for liars.

“Okay, what’d you say to him then?” Johnny wondered.

“Just said ‘Are you willin’ to die for her?’ and he said yeah and then I asked if he was willin’ to kill for her because I was.” Benny recalled the twinge of fear in those eyes as he took a long drag of his cig. “And I think he got the message pretty loud and clear after that.”

Johnny and Cal shared a pointed look as a weighted silence followed Benny’s statement. 

“Jesus, kid,” Wahoo murmured. “This girl’s really got you whipped.”

Benny really didn’t want to have this conversation with an audience. He came here in search of Johnny to seek out his advice, but now that he’d confessed to the group, he felt somewhat . . . smaller. He’d never been one to struggle with his confidence, to care what others thought of him. But the idea that you were upset with him, that maybe you didn’t want him anymore, that maybe he’d ruined his luck with you before he’d even had a taste, well, that just struck Benny deep in his chest. It made his fist clench tightly at his side, made his heart beat a little faster.

Suddenly, Johnny was beside him, hand clapping his shoulder in a friendly manner. “Well, if that’s what made ‘em run away, then it sounds like he was no good anyway.”

Benny remained silent, picturing the sight of you walking away from him last night, choosing to walk home in the dark rather than let him drive you back. 

“So, she’s mad at you for that?”

Benny nodded. 

Johnny shrugged. “Let me tell ya a little somethin’ about women; they may be the same species as us but they ain’t the same creature. They don’t think like you and I. When we see somethin’ that needs said or done, we just do it. But they’re more . . . compassionate, empathetic. She probably feels bad for that poor asshole. Probably just wants ya to apologize to him.”

Benny wanted to roll his eyes. He knew all of this. He wasn’t an idiot. “Well, I told her I wasn’t apologizing for it.”

Groaning sounded behind him and Benny clenched his jaw defensively. “I’m not. I can’t apologize for somethin’ I don’t feel sorry for. I don’t regret runnin’ him off and I'd do it again if I have to.” Though if he needed to do it again, he’d probably not openly tell you again. 

“Then you’re goin’ to have to find another way to get back into her good graces, kid.” Johnny shook his head and Benny thought he saw a hint of a smile in his face as he turned away. "You'll think of somethin'."

******

You’d changed your clothes three times before you gave up and just decided to wear the same thing you’d worn to your breakfast date with Pete. Could it be classified as a date? You weren’t even sure where you stood with him now. He seemed to fall back into his usual demeanor, but that was always so closed-off anyway. But so was your father, you supposed. You could see that in the way he’d sit at the head of the table, face hidden behind his newspaper. It was obvious in the way your mother repeated herself over and over again in an attempt to be heard. It was apparent when he was absent during all your years of school accomplishments. That was the normal. It seemed unfair to expect Pete to be any different.

So you went downstairs, packed up your cake (one you had made special for the charity) in the cooler and hopped on your bicycle. The ride to the church wasn’t far but it gave you more time to consider Pete as you waved to neighbors you passed. Though you actively tried to avoid it, you mind drifted to thoughts of Benny. Was he the type of person to wave to neighbors? What kind of neighborhood did he even live in?

By the time you showed up to the church, the event was in full swing. You parked your bike in the rack and carried your cooler through the tents and booths set up, smiling at friends as you went. You found the pastor's wife who directed you to the bake sale booth where there were a couple other girls already setting up. 

“What’ve you got there?” one of the older women asked as you approached, setting your cooler down on the table. 

“A cake.” you grinned as you pulled out the cake, setting it on the display. You had gotten up extra early today to get started on the desert, knowing the congregation was counting on you to supply the design. The inspiration for the design – admittedly taken from a certain biker who you would not be thinking about anymore – was a a field of brightly colored flowers surrounding the base with a family of tiny bunnies to decorate the top. You were pretty proud of it and to hear the ooo’s and ahh’s of the ladies surrounding you boosted your confidence. They set out a donation jar in front of your display and people began to filter by your booth to admire the goods and to grab a free brownie made by one of the other girls at the table. As the event went on and the sun shifted overhead, you thanked the donors and smiled for pictures, all the while your eyes scanned the crowd, hoping to find Pete close by. 

When there was a pause in the flow of foot traffic, you took the time to crouch below the table to replenish the paper plates when a deep, familiar voice broke through your concentration. 

“Got anymore of your famous cookies?” 

You looked up, gaze locking with the ocean blue eyes of none other than Benny Cross.

You gasped and stood up so quickly you nearly knocked your head on the corner of the table. He was staring unabashedly at you, even being so bold as to roam his eyes down your figure and you suddenly wished you had changed into something a little more formal. Ironic, you thought, considering Benny was anything but formal.

His gaze moved from you down to the cake on the table and his brows raised. “You make this, Little Bunny?”

You swallowed, ignoring the rush of butterflies at the nickname. “Mh-hm.”

He bent down to inspect it closer, hands pressing to his knees and you can’t look away. You couldn’t look away from the cerulean gaze beneath a wall of lashes. You couldn’t look away from the slope of his nose nor the quirk of his mouth as he hummed a sound that came deep in his throat. And no, you couldn’t look away as your gaze traveled down his signature denim jacket to the exposed tanned skin of his arms, the muscle tone enough to make your eyes widen. You certainly didn’t want to look away from his hands over his knee as a flash of heat filled your core at the thought of his hands encasing your own knee.

Benny’s eyes flashed back up to meet yours. “You’re incredible.”

You nearly melted at his words, face heating up and you had to break his intense eye contact.

He stood back to his full height. “If it tastes half as good as it looks, I think I might be in trouble.”

There he goes again with those damn double innuendos. You started to smile but then you remembered you were still mad at him, that you weren’t supposed to be happy to see him or to hear his flirty voice. “You already are in trouble, remember?”

“Oh, right.” Benny grinned sheepishly. “I still gotta do somethin’ about that, don’t I?”

You raised your brow at him as you crossed your arms trying to look more confident than you felt. “You don’t have to do anything, Benny. It’s a free country.”

He narrowed his eyes playfully. “But it’s what you want me to do, right? Apologize to ‘em?”

“No, he . . . wouldn’t like that,” you admitted, “I don’t think that’d be a very good idea to involve him anymore.”

Without missing a beat, he said, “Then I guess I’ll just have to win you over again.”

“Who said you won me over a first time?” You challenged, standing up a little straighter.

Benny just grinned, a shit-eating grin that you weren’t sure if you wanted to smack or kiss off his face. You watched as he retrieved his wallet from his back pocket. He slipped out a five dollar bill between two of his dexterous fingers and dropped it into your donations jar.

“See ya around, kid,” he said with a wink before turning and leaving you standing there wide-eyed and fighting a smile.

-Tag List-

@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan @cynic-spirit @pomtherine @tranquilty @m00npjm @twisteduniverse5 @justsomewritingblog @nhlfs @thepassionatereader @rebecca-hvnstn @nethanybear @dreamlandcreations @buckysteveloki-me @simsiddy @zablife @sansaorgana @autumnleaves1991-blog @butler-trouble @lindszeppelin @wavyjassy @real-lana-del-rey @ilovehyperfixating @xcallmetaniax @lovenewfandoms @youngestxhearts @abaker74 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @thefallofthedamned @hottpinkpenguinreads @nctma15 @vendylewin @capswife @alexa4040 @pearlstiare @sweetestrose569 @18lkpeters @pao-prazz @thedreamingfish99 @mrsalwayswrite

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING VOCAL !!! OSCAR P. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: oscar piastri was always quiet until he’s not…

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), use of explicit language, pwp, what is proofreading (i just wrote this fifteen minutes ago lmfao), oscar in the wild, oral sex (m receiving), praise kink, face fucking + deepthroat, cockdrunk!reader

note: wrote a goofy shitpost on my main account about him looking goofy and me wanting to suck him dry love him. i saw and i came and in this blurb, oscar did too lmao enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

oscar piastri, in between the mclaren drivers, was a reserved being. 

everyone knew that. everyone in the paddock knew not to speak to him if they expected for deep meaningful conversations. they knew not to rely on him when expecting a long answer— especially when they weren’t that close. only lando could get him to speak up — being oscar’s closest friend in the grid and all. 

but not even lando knew how vocal he could get. he didn’t know how long he’d hold a conversation for with someone that meant so much to him. his girlfriend. 

and if everyone found how vocal he is in bed, they’d say that “that’s not oscar” and deny that oscar would even speak like this. 

and he wasn’t hesitating when he praised her endlessly, his eyes fluttered shut as he let out a breathless moan. 

“good girl,” he let out a sigh of pleasure, feeling her lips wrapped around his cock while her tongue licked the underside of his tip. his eyes couldn’t help but look down at her as he murmured, “lemme see you, baby.” 

her dazed eyes fluttered open as she continued devouring his length, her cockdrunk face making him moan as he praised her with, “you’re so beautiful— sucking my cock like this, baby. good girl— keep sucking me like that.” 

it wasn’t anything he asked her to do, really. on a normal day, he would’ve been the one to go down and devour her cunt without any questions. hell, he’d even fuck her until she couldn’t walk.

but right now, after watching her whimper and whine about sucking him off, oscar had relented and insisted that he could just fuck her if she wanted some release— only for her to drop to her knees and beg. 

who was he to deny her? besides, she looked so pretty like this: cockdrunk, eager to wrap her lips around his cock and to hear him praise her as she wanted. her mind was in a haze, and if she continued to suck him like this, oscar’s mind would end up there, too.

she hummed in satisfaction, her hand reaching to play with his balls too as he moaned aloud, “god~ so fuckin’ good. keep playing with me like that.”

“you only wanted to suck me off today, hm?” he teased, watching as she nodded, her eyes fluttered shut as she continued to feel his girth and length in her mouth.

for her mouth, he was a welcome weight that she was more than willing to carry— as long as she could get a taste of him. 

“begging me to let you suck my cock and asking me nicely,” he chuckled quietly as he ran his finger through her hair, pulling it lightly when her pace started to increase. “such a naughty girl.” 

“‘m gonna fuck you now, ‘s it okay?” and once he got a nod from her as an approval, his hips lifted itself off from the seat and began to fuck her mouth.

her nose met the bottom of his cock as she took in the last of the air she could gather, allowing him to use her mouth like a toy as she moaned around him.

“god,” he grunted, feeling the vibration around his cock as she expressed her pleasure through endless humming and moaning. “god- fuck, good girl- such a good girl, keep licking my cock like that, baby.”

“doin’ so good f’me,” he moaned, his hips now snapping up as she continued to lick the underside and swirling around his cock. his legs trembled lightly as he let out a growl, “fuck- ‘m cummin’ baby. want me to cum in your mouth?” 

he peered down at her nodding eagerly as he smirked lightly, “yeah? you want me to cum in your mouth? are you gon’ swallow every drop and not waste it?”

her cheeks hollowed around him as she bobbed her head— whether it’s to say yes or to get him to cum, oscar wasn’t sure; he was just lost in his pleasure. 

“good,” he muttered, now reaching his high, “i’m gonna cum, baby, keep sucking me off like that- hah~ fuck— good girl— i~”

the salty spritz of his pleasure escaped and were swallowed by her, devouring his pleasure as she hummed in arousal. it was almost as if she, too, had orgasmed. she felt too fucked out and full— all thanks to his obliging to let her go down on him. 

swallowing the last drop, she pulled away from his cock with a ‘pop’ as she smiled, almost drunkenly. 

oscar helped and pulled her to his lap, kissing her softly as he smiled gently, “thank you, baby.”

“no,” she giggled, “thank you~”

“anything for my girl.”

[sometimesanalice]

Wildest Dreams (Part 2)

Summary: After meeting Bradley during Fleet Week, he shows you whether he is more of an officer or a gentleman in the bedroom. And while you haven’t been able to stop thinking about that night, you also hope he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, and Bradley in Summer Whites (minors dni)

(Author’s note: this was written as part of @laracrofted’s 1989(TV) Challenge! This a 2 Part series.)

You don’t remember finding your keys in your clutch.

Or the elevator ride up to your floor.

Or the winding hallway to reach your apartment.

What you do remember is the way his fingers toyed with the flimsy strings of the bows tied at the nape of your neck as you searched for your keys. You remember the heat in his eyes and the way they trailed over every inch of you as the too small lift climbed to your floor. You remember his lips on your neck and the way the embossed wallpaper that lined your hallway felt against your back.

And you already know you’ll never forget what it feels like to be pressed up against your door by Bradley Bradshaw and the way your world explodes into technicolor at the easy slide of his tongue against yours.

His hands can’t seem to stay in one place very long, like he wants to commit the shape of you to memory. You grip his shirt tightly as you try to pull his body even closer to yours. He moans his approval when you rock against his thigh, the thick fabric dragging against the soft skin between your legs.

His uniform has been driving you wild all night. And for as good as he looks in it you want it off. You want him naked. You want to know if he got his callsign for the reason you think he did.

Your hands trail down his chest, down his abs on a mission. You can feel the way he tenses under your palms as they move lower, lower. There’s no hesitation in the way you grasp and stroke him with one hand as you work to unbuckle his polished belt with the other.

Rooster groans into your mouth, the brim of his hat just grazing your temple, “You didn’t have me fooled for a second, I knew you weren’t a good girl.”

The way he says it makes it sound like it’s the best compliment in the world.

You feel his smile against your lips before he moves to take advantage of your amused laugh by dipping down and licking a line up your neck in a what that had your knees threatening to give out in your tall, sparkly heels.

Rooster’s hand slips under the short hem of your shiny dress. His mouth finds a spot underneath your ear that has you gasping as his thumbs slide under the waistband of your panties. He pulls away only to work them down your legs and watch as they puddle at your feet-

“What the fuck are those?” 

“U-underwear?” The word comes out a stutter the moment Bradley starts moving his big hand slowly, purposely up, up, up the inside of your thigh. 

The high-cut thong was something you’d purchased on a whim. The floral embroidery on the barely-there sheer mesh contrasted with the thin silky straps of the bright pink panties that had caught your eye right before you’d gone to check out with the set you’d bought as a gift for your friend’s Bachelorette party. 

You always did enjoy a theme. 

You’d barely felt them all night. That is, until you’d gotten in the cab with him, and then you were almost hyperaware of them and how wet they were getting. But pooled on the floor of your entryway, they look almost indecent.

“That’s some damn dental floss and you know it,” he rasps as his fingers find your clit. You suck in a sharp breath at the contact. His hot mouth returns back to that spot under your ear, “Now I’m mad at myself for not getting to see them on you.”

Your body erupts in goosebumps at the way the coarse hairs of his mustache feel against your skin. You’re so wet that his fingers have no problem sliding and circling and gliding over that sensitive part of you.

“You want me to put them back on for you?” you offer breathily, hips tilting forward trying to seek more of his touch.

“Don’t even think about it,” he states heatedly. Like he is personally victimized by even the idea of you putting a layer back on.

And then he sinks two thick fingers into you.

“Bradley,” you gasp, your hands flying up to clutch his biceps.

“Mhmm?”

“I-” Your words are lost to a keen when he flicks a thumbnail over your clit. It’s a little mean, but it has your toes curling and tensing in the most delicious way.  

His firm thigh keeps you pinned open as he works you. His lips and tongue mapping out the areas that make you squirm and pant. Your whole body seizes when he teases you with the possibility of another one of his fingers.

“You what, pretty girl?” You can feel his smirk against your neck.

Oh, fuck him. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you. You’d be more annoyed at him if he wasn’t so good at it.

“I-I,” you try again, “I had-oh god, that feels good. Your hands.”

“Hands of a pilot,” he says, satisfied and smug, “I’ll be sure to pass along your compliments to the Department of Defense.”

Rooster’s eyes are molten with pride as he takes you in, from your kiss swollen lips to where the tendons of his forearm are shifting and flexing beneath sunkissed skin half hidden under the hem of your skirt. 

He is frustratingly still so put together while you’re quaking against the door like a leaf in the breeze. You want to make him just as needy for your touch as you are for his, you can feel how hard he is pressed against you.

Your hand goes for his zipper, you’re only able to tug it down half way before Bradley catches you by the wrist and pins it above your head with a tsk.

“I had plans, Rooster,” you pant, finally are able to get out the words.  You’ve never had a man make you feel this good this quickly, he’s picked up on every cue your body has given him. He’s got you teetering along that edge, but he’s still toying with you rather than sending you over it.

“And what were those again?” he hums teasingly, his thumb making infuriatingly featherlight circles against you, “Remind me what was on your agenda.”

Bradley doesn’t give you the chance to reply because he’s hooking his fingertips against you and dragging them against that spot inside of you that causes your head to fall back against your door with a gasp. He shows you just how well practiced in giving pleasure he is as he does it again and again and again.

You try to arch into his touch but his strong body pressed against you so securely that you can’t do anything more than take what he gives you. The short hem of your skirt is riding dangerously high, gathered and bunched between the two of you.

“You’re not playing fair,” you whine as he runs his teeth along the tendon of your neck, “I was going to suck your cock.”

“It’s all yours, baby. You just need to come for me first. I’ll even let you wear my cap as a reward.”

“Such a gentleman.”

“Damn straight,” he says before licking deep into your waiting mouth, “Now show me you can be a good girl and come on my fingers.”

You don’t get a chance to reply because Bradley’s thumb changes up the patterns it’s making on your clit making you cry out. There’s nothing teasing about his touch, he’s playing your body to pull exactly what he wants from it. His movements are controlled and precise even as you writhe against his hand.

When you come it’s with his name in your mouth as your orgasm coasts over you in a whiskey wave. The heat and force of it radiating through your whole body from your fingertips to your toes. Bradley murmurs sweet words into your ear as shivers work their way down through your spine.

You’re still breathing hard when you flutter open your eyes just in time to see him pulling his shiny spit-slicked fingers from his mouth with a devastating smirk.

So pleased with himself, so damn handsome.

Not to be out done you kick away that hot pink thong and pull his face to yours seeking the taste of yourself from his mouth. He welcomes your tongue with a satisfied moan, his hungry hands running up your back to tug at one of the sets of ties on your dress.

“Nuh-uh,” you tut against his mouth as you push him up against your door, “It’s your turn, Lieutenant Commander Bradley Rooster Bradshaw.”

You’ve only managed to undo two of the little white buttons on his uniform, and while you’re dying to see more of his skin, the hard length of him against your stomach has your full attention.

Your knees only just skim the floor before he’s hauling you back up.

“Wait, wait. C’mere, baby,” Bradley says, his hands on your elbows, “Show me your bedroom and then I’ll let you have my cock.”

“‘Come on my fingers’, ‘show me your bedroom’,” you parrot back to him, stroking him through his pants, “You’re going to give me a complex if you don’t let me give you a blow job. I have a theory about your callsign and I need answers, Rooster.”

“You can, I promise,” he huffs a laugh, running his thumb under your bottom lip, “We’re skipping over a few things, let me be a little romantic with you before we smudge that lipstick up.”

You try to ignore the way your heart somersaults at his words and the affection in his eyes.

“It’s longwear,” you reply, with a cheeky half shrug,  “But you’re certainly welcome to try.”

“We’ll see about that,” he smirks, dipping down a bit to get an arm underneath you and picking you up like it’s nothing. Your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you from your entryway and past your kitchen towards the open door on the right where your bedroom is, the lamp on your nightstand that you’d left on before leaving for the evening guiding the way.

“How is your hat still on?” you mutter before laving at the scars on his neck that had caught your eye earlier at the bar.

“How is your tiara still on?” he tosses back, leaning his head to the side to give you more access to the skin at the base of his throat.

“It’s a headband.”

“It’s cute.”

You pull away with a grin, “I knew you wanted to try it on. Big, strong, Naval aviator has an affinity for pretty shiny things.”

“Guilty as charged,” Rooster agrees. His hands run down the sides of your waist as he sets you down, his fingers stroking the material of your sparkling pink dress. “Where do you want me, baby?”

You don’t answer him, instead you press him back lightly until he takes the hint and sits on the side of your bed, legs wide so that you can step into the space between his thighs. He makes an enticing contrast of tan skin and white uniform against the pale blue of your comforter.

Holding Bradley’s heated gaze, you take the pristine white hat off of his head and set it on the nightstand next to you. The sight of his sunkissed curls is a treat you weren’t expecting to see and you can’t help but run your hands through his hair.

You take a minute to indulge in the feeling of his soft strands between your fingers as he leans into your touch. There’s a ribbon of desire that is still wrapped around the two of you, one that pulls tighter with every pass of your hands.

“Take your cock out,” you murmur.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says with a wink, his voice like rich espresso.

He’d gotten his way, now it was your turn.

You lean forward to kiss him, wet and deep, before finallyfinallyfinally sinking to your knees in front of him.

Rooster is all efficient hands and fingers as he unzips those dizzyingly snug pants the rest of the way down. You swear that smirk of his gets a little wider as he pulls his cock out for you. 

You’re almost annoyed at how perfect it looks, at how big it is. But that feeling fades quicker than it came on at the pretty way his large hand fists and pumps himself. It makes your breath get caught in your throat as you watch.

And then he’s holding it out for you like an offering, “This what you wanted, sweetheart?”

You don’t shy away from his intense gaze as you flatten your tongue underneath him and obscenely lick up the length of him.

“Goddamn,” he says hoarsely, as he throws his head back.

You beam, pleased and preening, before you pull him fully into your mouth. That smirk is entirely wiped off his face and you can see the way his jaw is clenching and releasing as his face is angled up towards the ceiling. Your hand replaces his on his cock to stroke him in time with the bob of your head. He groans low and ragged at the twist of your wrist at the base of him as you swirl your tongue right underneath the firm ridge of his head.

You feel your Bridesmaid headband slide back on your head with all your enthusiastic movements, and it falls to the floor with a metallic clatter. You wait until he’s looking back at you before you hollow your cheeks as you draw his cock further into your mouth.

“Knew that smart mouth of yours was going to look so good around my cock. God, you’re so fucking pretty,” he says, running his thumb along your jaw, “That little pink dress of yours did a number on me, I couldn’t stop looking at you.”

Bradley’s pretty praise and compliments goes straight to your head, like a rush of bubbles from a freshly popped bottle of champagne. You like the way he is gazing at you- his eyelids heavy but his eyes greedy- and the way he looks sitting on your bed, his presence filling the space of your room.

“If you like it so much I can tell you where I got it from,” you tease, “Don’t think they’d have your size though.” You treat him with another long lick, taking a moment to catch your breath to work him in your hand. It slides easily over him with the mix of your spit and his pre-cum.

“We both know how much I like pretty shiny things. I like seeing them on pretty girls, but I think I like seeing them on the floor even more.”

Rooster reaches out to slide his hand up the valley of your breasts and up around your neck to the back of your dress where the duo of bows of the halter top are still tied and starts tug on the ends of them.

You run your fingernail gently along the underside of his cock, smirking to yourself when it jerks in your hand. You take the tip of him between your lips, flicking him with your tongue as you let him work on the bows.

“Jesus, what kind of knots did you tie on this thing,” he grunts, still pulling on the thin pink strings.  

“I thought you Navy men were supposed to be excellent with knots,” you say with a laugh, moving your hair aside so that he can see better.

“I fly planes that land on ships, the only knots I’m tying are the ones on my boots.”

“Well now, that’s a shame,” you say with a sigh, blinking up at him with your best doe eyes. You give him a couple more slow pumps and watch with pleasure as his eyes flare with heat as he catches on to your meaning.

The way he moans your name sounds like both a curse and a prayer.

You pull away from him and sit back on your knees reaching up behind your neck. He watches you with rapt attention as you untie one and then the other. You hold it up with one hand at your collarbone and run the fingers of your other hand over the swells of your breasts before sliding it behind your back to release the final bow dancing along your mid-back.

And then you let go of the top.

It flutters down to your waist and you’re bared before him.

“Fuck me, knew you couldn’t be wearing a bra with that sexy little dress,” he groans as you pull him back into your mouth.

His fingers fly to your hair as you work to take him further and further into your mouth. It’s impossible to look away or close your eyes when his heady gaze is trained on you so intensely. He goes slack-jawed as you swallow around him, humming your approval to his reaction around his cock.

It’s easy to lose yourself to the rhythm of it. Of the staccato of his breath and sounds of satisfaction coming from in his broad chest. Of the weight of his cock pressed against your tongue.

Bradley’s thigh is taut and tense under your other hand with the strain of holding himself back. You are almost tempted to tell him to use your mouth how he wants, but there is something so exciting about having this man wrapped around your finger and at your mercy. He’s looking at you with such open want in his eyes that it makes that place low in your stomach spark with desire.

You pull off of him to drop a few open mouth kisses to the length of him. You look up at him from under your eyelashes, making sure you have his full attention when you use your tongue to trace along the thick vein on his shaft.

“How’s my lipstick holding up, Rooster?”

He barks a laugh, his smile wide and broad with amusement, “Hasn’t budged. Guess I’ll have to work harder to make a mess out of you then, huh?”

“I guess you will.” You shift forward like you mean to brush a kiss to his lips, but pull away with a mischievous smile right before his lips could meet yours. He groans and leans forward chasing after your mouth.

“C’mere, pretty girl,” Bradley says, hauling you up off of the cream-colored carpet of your floor. He hastily shoves your dress down the rest of the way down your hips and onto the floor before pulling you into his lap.

“But-” The words die in your throat as you whimper at the contact of your soaked cunt as it rubs up against his thick cock. Rooster runs his nose along the line of your neck as your hands tangle in his curls. He squeezes your ass with his hands encouraging you to continue your rock and grind against him.

When you tug him back up to your mouth, he goes willingly with a self-satisfied smile. You keen when your nipples catch against his nametag and the ribbons decorating his chest and you’re reminded that he’s not nearly naked enough for your liking.

“Why are you still dressed?” you huff, your insatiable hands roughly pulling at the buttons of his shirt, “If you were as interested in furthering those civilian-military relations as you claimed to be earlier, Sailor, you’d take that uniform off.”

“My apologies, ma’am,” he drawls, not sounding the least bit sorry, “Please allow me to show you just how committed I am to cultivating strong bonds with the local community at hand.”

And in a move so smooth and powerful, Bradley’s got you pinned to the bed. It doesn’t even register to you until he’s crowding into you, his head dipping down to drag his teeth over your peaked nipple. His large hand comes up to cup and massage your other one as he laves over you in broad and long strokes of his tongue.

He rolls against you teasingly and the way your thighs come up to bracket his hips is almost instinctive as you sink further into the cloud of your bed under his sturdy weight.

That mustache feels even better against your chest as it did against your neck when he had you pressed against your front door. But the drag of those damn buttons is impossible to ignore even as his hot mouth works its way down your sternum and stomach.

“Bradley.”

“Yeah, baby?” He nips at your hipbone as he strong-arms your thighs open further for his wide shoulders to settle under.

You’re so tired of feeling that sure-to-be-well-made fabric under your hands and against your body. You want to feel his skin against yours. You want his heat. You want to smell like the cedar and spearmint scent of his cologne.

He’s been derailing your plans since the moment you saw him enter the bar, but in this you will not be swayed, “If you’re not naked in the next ninety seconds, I swear I’m going to kick you out.”

“I can work with ninety,” he says with a toe curling glint in his eyes right before he licks into you.

The coarse hairs of his mustache against that most intimate part of you has you seeing not only stars, but entire galaxies. He slides his hand under your back to get you to arch further towards him. His tongue is relentless against your needy clit and when he sucks it has your hips canting right into his charming mouth.

“Can’t keep those hips on the bed, can you? Keep tryin’ to chase my mouth,” he smirks at your frustrated whine when he pulls away from you all too soon. He’s all lithe grace as he moves and stands up at the end of your bed.

You can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed. There’s no reason to be when he shoots you a wink so easy and playful and so endearingly cocky that you think you might just melt on the spot.

“Tick-tock, Lieutenant,” you say breathily as you sit up and lean back on your elbows.

“Now you’re just being difficult on purpose. That ok, baby, I think you’ll enjoy it when I fuck that attitude right out of you.”

“Promises, promises.”

You already know that lazy smile he’s wearing is going to take you down as he starts to undo the buttons of his uniform. He’s definitely past the ninety seconds you’d threatened him with, but there’s no way in hell you’re going to kick him out now.

Rooster does it slowly. One by one until he is shrugging it off his frame. He looks like sin standing there tall and broad with his belt dangling open and his cock hanging out proudly from the open fly of his formfitting pants.

“Oh, this is getting good now,” you muse, not unaffected by the increasingly unclothed man in front of you.

Feeling brave you bring your fingers down to your clit, teasing yourself lightly as he pulls his thin undershirt up and over his head. And finally, you get to see all of that bronzed skin on display. The sight of the smattering of chest hair between his full pecs and the ridges of his abs in the soft light of your nightstand lamp has your mouth watering at the sight in front of you.

“That’s it,” Bradley says lowly, his eyes glued to the shiny, slick part of you, “Show me how you like to touch yourself.”

You let your legs fall open wider for his gaze as you continue to touch yourself. Your heart hammers against your chest as you put yourself on display for him. As you show off for him. With every passing second your need for him ratchets up even higher. He gives himself a few pumps, his cock still shiny and wet from your mouth and pussy, before he’s shoving his pants down his thick thighs and kicking them off.

He works his way back up your bed and props himself against your tufted headboard and pulls you back into his lap. You sigh as you lean into him, your bare skin against his. At last. He feeds you his tongue as he tips up your head for a fevered kiss, his hands skimming up the length of your spine and into your hair as he commands your mouth with his.

“What’s it going to be, sweetheart?” he murmurs against your lips, “Do you want to be fucked by an officer? Or do you want me to be sweet with you? I’ll show you just how much of a gentleman I can be.”

A shiver works its way through your body and you feel the way his lips pull up at your response to his raspy voice and the sultry promise laced in his words. The night has been building up to this, the feeling of his hands in your hair and having his clothes on the floor in your room shouldn’t feel so right. But it does.

And if you’re only going to have this one night with him, you already know what you want. You knew it from the second he kissed you back at the bar.

You pull back just enough to lean over him to grab his hat off your nightstand. His hands flex on your hips when you set it on your own head. It’s heavier than you’d thought it would be and it tilts down your forehead a bit. Rooster tips it up for you and adjusts it, his eyes seeking an answer you have yet to give him.

“I want to be fucked by an officer, Lieutenant Commander,” you say, running your thumb down the divot of his chin.

You’ve never felt more powerful than you do at the sound of his wrecked groan.

“Grab that condom, baby,” Bradley’s voice is thick with need.

“Yes, sir,” you say cheekily, pulling open the drawer next to the bed.

You aren’t expecting the hand that connects with your ass or the sound of the sharp slap that seems to reverberate throughout your bedroom or the way it makes you even wetter than you already are.

The tequila and champagne from earlier wore off long ago, now you’re just drunk on him.

You pass him one of the gold foiled squares and watch as he rolls it on with ease as you hover above him on your knees. He’s got you so spun up in such a short amount of time, you’d know from the moment you saw him that he was trouble, you just didn’t realize at the time that he was going to be your kind of trouble.

He holds his cock in one hand and guides you onto it with his other hand heavy on your hip. You expect him to rock up into you, to give you both that air stealing bliss, instead your jaw drops open at the way he’s coaching you to sink onto him slowly, slowly, so so slowly.

It’s been awhile since you’ve taken something other than your fingers or one of the toys discreetly hidden in your bedside drawer and he has you whimpering as you stretch and spread around him. You can feel his want in every devastating touch, in every heated kiss. You cling to his shoulders to keep you from floating away.

“There we go. Nice and easy,” Rooster murmurs, watching the way his cock disappears into you, “Felt how tight you were around my fingers. I know ‘m big. You’re doing so good for me.”

He’s got a hand wrapped around the base of your neck and around your waist holding you there when your hips finally connect, keeping you from squirming as your body works to relax around him. Your pussy flutters around him at the sheer size of him.

You gasp in surprise as a shiver of an orgasm flurries through you unexpectedly. 

“Goddamn,” he grunts, you can hear the relief in his voice as he continues to rock up into you gently pulling out more of those ripples from you.

He’s still holding you in place, controlling just how much of him you’re getting, his fingers are pressed tightly into your hipbones. His hair is a mess and his eyes are hungry. Bradley is flushed the prettiest shade of pink along his cheekbones and across his chest.

You’re about to tell him so when your eyes snag on a patch of scarred skin on his shoulder and you suddenly must know what it feels like under your tongue.

The second your seeking tongue glides over it Rooster’s hips jerk into you in a way that steals all the air from your lungs. You wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his neck as he does it again and again in smooth, measured strokes.

But it’s not enough. That whisper of an orgasm was nothing like you know it could be. It did nothing to take the edge off, all it did was make you more desperate for him. 

He feels so solid beneath you that you need more of him. You start to roll your hips against him trying to get him to move faster, to fuck you in the way he promised he would.

“Oh, you wanna take the lead, huh? By all means,” Bradley says, putting his hands behind his head in a way that makes his biceps look massive, “C’mon, pretty girl, show me what you got.”

Not one to turn down a challenge, you reach behind you to brace your hands on his thick thighs and lean back. You’d show him alright.

Show him just how good you look wearing his hat. Show him just how good he looks buried in your cunt. Show him just how good he looks covered in your arousal. Show him just how good you look working his cock as you roll your hip and raise yourself up and down on him.

“Jesus, fuck. Look at you. Good girls don’t ride cock like that. Shit, you look so damn pretty. You feel so good like this, you’re taking me so well.”

His eyes are torn between watching your face and the way your breasts bounce and the way his hat on your head bobs in time with the rhythm you’ve set. The new angle has the pressure building up swiftly in your lower stomach. And it’s so good, but it’s not what you want. It’s not what you need.

“Stop being such a gentleman, Rooster. I thought you were going to fuck me,” you say, leaning forward and nipping at his bottom lip.

“Pretty sure I told you I was both,” he says tracing a finger down your soft stomach to your pussy, you shiver as he starts making tight circles on your clit, “But if you wanna be fucked, then you’re going to be fucked.”

Bradley shows you just how honed his body is in the way he pulls you off of him and onto your hands and knees in front of him. Your arms never had a chance at keeping you up when he roughly pushes into you. He grips your hips tightly forcing you to bend and arch up further to meet his powerful thrusts.

His hat topples off your head and onto the edge of the bed, where his next drive of him into you sends it dropping onto the floor.

“Tell me how much you like getting fucked by an officer, sweetheart, I want to hear it.”

“It’s good,” you moan into the crevice of your elbow, trying to muffle some of your whimpers.

“Just good? The way your pretty pussy is clinging to be, I’d say you’re feeling more than ‘good’,” he taunts, slapping your ass for good measure in a way that makes you jerk back against him.

“Just think there’s room for improvement, you’re so chatty for someone who could be fucking me harder.”

“Had to work you open before I could fuck you. This how you want it?” he snaps his hips harder and faster into you. You gasp at the sensation and clutch at the comforter beneath your hands.

“Yes, yes.”

The pace he sets is desperate, hungry, and unrelenting. When he skims a hand up your back, tangling it in your hair and tugs, you swear you’ve never made the sound that he pulls from you before.

Every time you adapt to rock and grind of his hips and start to thrust yourself back to meet him, to take him deeper, he changes up his tempo forcing you to only take what you’re given. His touch is so electric you feel like you could light up a whole city.

Your room is filled with the sounds of skin connecting on skin, of sharp breaths and shattered sighs and pitchy keens. The angle he pounding into you has the ridge of his cock rubbing against that spot that has you trembling and writhing beneath him.

“Oh fuck, fuck. Bradley. Please.” You’re babbling nonsense now and you know it, but you’re so, so close.

He knows it too because when he slides his hand around you to run his thumb over your aching clit you shatter around him with a choked sob into your arm. You don’t fight the waves of pleasure crashing over you, you let them pull you under.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he rasps as you quake under his touch, “Good girl.”

His own hips start to stutter against you and his breathing starts to run ragged as he fucks into you. He is clutching your hips so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if you were wearing his fingerprints tomorrow. His groan as he comes is the best sound you’ve ever heard.

Somehow through the haze you realize that you’re not just smiling, you’re beaming.

Bradley is so perfectly heavy on top of you and so warm. You’re so thoroughly worn out and well fucked it’s all you can do to lay there with your eyes closed as you float in that post-orgasm bliss. You make a noise of disapproval when he pulls out of you.

“Gotta get rid of the condom, baby,” he says with a little laugh. You feel the bed shift as he makes his way to your bathroom, already missing the feeling of his body against you.

You know you should get up. Maybe take your makeup off or get some water, but you’re just so content. So satisfied. You’ve had a few one night stands before, but you’ve never felt so comfortable with someone before.

You hear Bradley’s steps get closer as he comes back into your bedroom, but the feel of a damp washcloth gliding up your thigh to the center of you takes you by surprise, “Oh, that’s warm.”

“Is it too warm?” he asks, pausing. You were lucky if your ex would hand you a tissue, so Bradley’s thoughtfulness makes something in your stomach flutter.

“’s nice. Thank you,” you sigh, arching into his tender touch.

You know you should take over, it’s too intimate of a gesture. You should, you should, you should. But you don’t. You let him clean you up while you will your heart to stop fluttering behind your ribs.

You’re pliant and boneless as he climbs back into your bed and pulls you against his chest. Your body shouldn’t fit so perfectly against his. It shouldn’t, it shouldn’t, it shouldn’t. But it does.

“You still with me?” Rooster teases lightly, brushing back some of the sweaty strands of your hair that were clinging to your forehead.

“Just resting up for round two.”

You feel his smile as he presses a kiss to your cheek, “Mmhm.”

Time slips away under the gentleness of his warm hands. Your breathing slows down to match the way he smooths his palm up and down along your spine. You don’t realize how close you are to sleep until he’s pulling you back from the wisps of slumber that were rising up to meet you.

“Do you want me to stay?” he asks quietly. You think you hear a string of hope threaded through his words.

It’s late, but not too late that he’d have a hard time finding an Uber or a cab to take him back to wherever home is for him, but you’re not quite ready to let go of him just yet.

“Yeah, you should stay,” you murmur into his chest.

You feel as he pulls up your comforter around the two of you. You nestle in even closer to him, draping your arm over his stomach and tucking your head under his chin. He reaches over you carefully and turns off the little lamp on your nightstand.

“Ok, I’ll stay.”

It doesn’t take long until the sound of Bradley’s steady breathing lulls you to sleep.

When you wake up, the first thing you notice is the way your body aches in the most pleasant of ways. You allow yourself to stretch luxuriously, your high thread count sheets skimming against your still naked body.

The second thing you notice is the sound of the shower running in your bathroom.

You’re glad to have this moment to yourself to grin madly into your pillow.

Because he stayed. He’s still here.

Once that rush of giddy energy works its way through the rest of your body, you get up to find your clutch with your phone in it and bring it back to bed with you. You shoot a text off to your best friend so that she doesn’t worry and get caught up on all the things you missed in the chaos that is the group chat. The amount of missed notifications are in the triple digits, you love to see girls supporting girls.

A few minutes later Rooster comes out of the bathroom with one of your fluffy white towels wrapped low around his hips. There’s still a part of you that still can’t believe last night even happened even as he stands in front of you, giving you a wide grin when he sees that you’re awake. 

His hair is damp and the sight of those curls make you want to run your fingers through them again. Those muscles of his look even better in the morning light that is filtering through your blinds, you’re getting more than an eyeful of him.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Bradley says gesturing to the open bathroom door, “I wanted to sneak in a quick shower just in case. You seem like the type of girl who would know about her Third Amendment rights.”

“You never know, there’s still time,” you say with a coquettish little shrug and a Cheshire cat smile, “Although it seems rude to kick someone who made me come three times last night.”

“Four,” he says, the left side of his mouth ticking up a bit as he leans a hand on your dresser.

“Four?”

“Mmhm, four. I know what I felt.”

“Would you be up for reminding me how that fourth one went?” you ask, teasingly pulling the soft sheet down your body to sit up on your knees at the edge of your bed.

“Sure would, ma’am. Anything to solidify those civilian-military bonds,” Rooster says, strutting towards you.

He’s ducking down to greet you with a kiss when you stop him with a hand on his chest, “Wait, what time do you have to be back?”

You see that easy smile of his falter for just a moment, “18:30. Sorry that’s-”

“I know military time, Bradley,” you say with a smirk, toying with the loose knot of the towel. You do the math in your head, there’s still almost seven hours before he has to go. It’s an easy decision when you offer, “What do you say, Lieutenant, you want to spend the day with me?”

Rooster answers with an enthusiastic kiss and greedy hands that tell you everything you need to know. It doesn’t take long before you’re pushing off his towel, pulling him on top of you and getting  tangled up with him again.

It only took you a few passes of his tongue to realize what he was spelling against your clit before he had you coming on his mouth. 

L-I-E-U-T-E-N-A-N-T-C-O-M-M-A-N-D-E-R

And then after he reminds you of just how that fourth orgasm went, you set him up with some coffee in your kitchen as you go take a shower and get ready feeling entirely too weak in the knees for a man you’d just met.

You opt to skip the make-up and go fresh faced to have those extra minutes with him instead. Although you do end up finding a spot beneath your ear, a remnant from his mouth last night, that you do have to take a minute to conceal.

Swathed up in your silky robe, you sift through your closet looking for something to wear when your eyes catch on a different pink dress. There are other comfier, easier things you could wearbut it’s the tie on the mostly open back that seals the deal for you. You grin to yourself as you tug open the bow before pulling it on.

He lets out a low whistle when you emerge from your bedroom.

“I know it’s not sparkly, but I think it’ll do,” you joke, twisting your hips a bit so the material of your floral print ruffle sundress floats around your calves.

“It’ll more than do,” Bradley says, staring at you with the same open desire as you’d probably given him when he’d emerged from your bathroom wrapped in that towel.

You turn and look at him over your shoulder, “Do you mind tying this for me?”

You could easily tie it yourself, but it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun as having him do it for you.

“That ok?” he asks, his voice dropping a few notes lower as he fiddles with tying the flimsy straps in the back for you.

“It’s perfect. Thank you, Rooster.”

He drops a kiss to your shoulder when he’s done and then spins you so that you’re facing him.

“What about me? How do the Summer Whites measure up?” he asks, clearly fishing as he gestures to his uniform. It’s still white and pristine and surprisingly devoid of any wrinkles from the night it spent on the floor of your bedroom.

You give him a contemplative once over taking him in, “It’ll more than do. Although, you’re missing a little something.” 

You walk over the island where you’d set his hat earlier so that it wasn’t forgotten on the floor in your bedroom and pick it up. He bends a little for your benefit as you place it on his head. 

“Cute,” you say, adjusting it so it sits just right, “But I think I wore it better.”

“I think you did too,” Bradley says, tugging you in for a thorough kiss before he laces your fingers together, “You ready?”

“Yeah, let’s get this show on the road,” you say with a wink, repeating the same thing that you said back at the bar when you decided to take him home with you.

The first stop is to your favorite little café not too far away from your apartment. Coffee and food were very necessary after the way the two of you had worked each other out the night before.

Bradley had looked so cramped in your little VW Golf on the way over that you decided to ditch it there and walk around the area instead. The two of you popped in and out of the bookshops and plant shops and record stores that dotted the area. You were surprised to learn he had really great taste in music and ended up picking out a few new vinyl records to take home with you.

In line at the checkout, he’d plucked your credit card from your hand, nodding to the sign advertising the store’s military discount and whispered into your ear, “I won’t tell Uncle Sam if you don’t.”

A ten percent discount never felt so thrilling.

You caught more than a few men and women checking him out in his Summer Whites as you walked around. But you couldn’t blame them because he’d caught you checking him out more than once. But it wasn’t your fault that his ass was a revelation in those tight pants. And he clearly knew it.

When you see the marquee for the small theatre on this side of town that is known for playing the classics and art house films advertising a showing for State Fair you offhandedly mention how much you like that movie as you peek in the widow of one of the antique shops, and then next thing you know he checking his watch and pulling you with him to the box office window for tickets.

“If you don’t let me pay for something here soon, you’re going to give me a complex,” he complains when you stop him from pulling out the credit card that he has tucked in the pocket of his uniform.

“Sorry, Rooster, it’s still Fleet Week and rules are rules,” you joke, bumping him out of the way with your hip sliding your card to the attendant before he can argue with you any further.

“Baby, I need you to stop Richard Gere-ing me,” he says, taking the tickets and wrapping an arm around your waist then leading you in the building.

“Alas, they’re playing Pretty Woman today, but I think you have the potential to make a pretty Julia Roberts,” you tease him, “I’d bet red would look very fetching on you with those undertones.”

The pinch on your right butt cheek makes you jump, startled. You whirl to see if anyone caught him, but the lobby is fairly empty. You turn to send him a heatless glare, but his face is the picture of innocence.

You shake your head at him amused, “Ok, fine. Just for that I will allow you to buy me a small soda from the concession stand, Bradley.”

He looks very pleased ten minutes later when he’s carrying a large bucket of popcorn, three types of candy, and two giant cups of fizzing soda as you go to find your seats.

“So much for free Fleet Week drinks,” you tut, taking a sip of your drink.

“But I did get laid today, so I’ll call it a win,” he winks.

The two of you trade whispers as the lights go down and the music of the opening credits starts to play. You grin as you reach over for some popcorn and hear him humming along.

Just as Vivian Blaine starts strutting away from Dana Andrews, her hair bouncing vivaciously with each step, Rooster angles over, “Hey, that’s how your friend looked last night walking away from Hangman. He’s been harassing me all day to get you to give me your number so he can call her.” 

You hold back the snicker that tries to escape your throat when he gets shushed by someone a few rows back, whispering even louder, “Sorry!”

You lean in closer, admiring the way half of his face is illuminated from the screen and confide, “Where do you think she learned it from?”

You and your best friend had taken the same film studies class in college and she tested out the move that night at the bars near campus with an almost perfect success rate. It’s been her go-to move ever since.

“No shit?”

“I’m serious,” you say with a giggle.

The shusher makes their displeasure known again and this time the both of you burst out laughing.

“We should probably go before they start throwing popcorn at us. I don’t think even with military grade detergent that you’d be able to get butter-flavored oil out of those Summer Whites.”

Bradley agrees readily and your heart flip-flops knowing that he’d rather be talking with you than sitting silently for the next two hours. He even tosses one of the boxes of candy to the shusher on the way out as an apology.

The two of you head to the beach instead, sitting on the sand and watching the waves. Tossing some of the popcorn kernels to hungry seagulls who approach. The two of you are both a little overdressed for it, but if anything, that makes it more fun.

You’re surprised at how easy it is to talk to him, to tease him. Surprised that he’s more than just a pretty face with a good body. The way he is so at-home and comfortable in his own skin makes you feel like you don’t have to try to be impressive, you can just be yourself. 

As the sun sinks lower in the sky, you’re both increasingly aware there’s a ticking clock above your heads and that this has to come to an end soon. And far too soon you end up making your way back together to where you’d left your car a few blocks away from the café you’d taken him to for brunch.

“Do you need to drop by your place for your things?” you ask Rooster, toying with your car keys.

“I packed last night. I asked a friend who is shipping out with me to grab them for me,” he says, scrubbing a hand down the side of his face.

“Not Hangman?” You wonder fleetingly if your friend ended up caving and giving him her number or not.

“Not this time. Which I’m not too mad about since he snores.” You know he is trying to make you laugh, but you just press your lips together and nod.

“So I should head there.” It’s not a question. You know your time is up.

“You probably should,” he says, with a sigh and a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

It’s a quiet ride as he directs you to a public lot near the Naval Air Station where he says his friend Bob is going to meet the two of you, explaining that he doesn’t have the pass that would allow you to drop him off inside the gates.

There are a few cars in the lot, but he points out where you should park near an older, but well maintained Chevy truck. When you look over as you pull into the space a couple spots away a man in glasses waves, you don’t miss the two duffle bags that are in the second row of his cab.

“Hey, I’ll be right back. Don’t leave yet, please,” Rooster says, unbuckling and getting out of your car. And for whatever reason, you do too.

You linger in front of your car as you wait for him to come back to you. You watch as his friend Bob passes him a pen and some paper, you can tell he’s trying to fill it out quickly based on the way his hand seems to be flying over it.

There’s an intensity to the way that Bradley walks back to you. Your feet are pinned to the asphalt beneath you as his eyes stay trained on you.

You both stand there nearly chest to chest just taking the other in. 

He’s still too breathtaking for words in his uniform as the golden hour light makes the sun-streaked strand of his hair gleam like threads of gold. His eyes slowly run over your face and down the dress he’d carefully tied you in this morning.

If this is it, if this is all you’re ever going to get with him, this is how you want him to remember you. Standing in a nice dress and staring at the sunset.

He reaches out and cups your face in his warm hand.

“Say you’ll see me again,” he says, holding your gaze. You can see every color of brown reflected in his pretty eyes.

Your heart seizes in your chest, “Bradley, I-”

He lightly puts his thumb over your lips to stop you before you can finish.

“Listen, I really like you. But it wouldn’t be fair of me to ask you to wait for me, so I’m not going to.” You’re unprepared for the rock that sinks to the pit of your stomach. “What I’m going to do is give you this,” he says handing you the thin paper packet, “This has all the information you need to get on base if you wanted to meet me there in two months when I get back. They give it to all of us when we get our deployment papers mailed to us, I’ve just never had a reason to fill one out for anyone before.”

You hold it in your hands and look at it. The letters are slightly sloppy in that way that men seem to have. The sheet is filled out his full name, Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw, as well as what you assume is his military I.D. number and other crumbs of information about the handsome man standing in front of you.

And you’re reminded again, that you’ve only gotten to see just the tiniest sliver of him.

“Say you’ll see me again,” he repeats, quieter this time, “Even if it’s just pretend.”

You hear what he is really saying: lie to me, please.

His friend is waiting for him in his idling truck.

And Bradley is waiting on you.

But you feel like you’re out of time.

This was supposed to be one night.

One night, one moment.

So why does this feel so big? Like you were on the precipice of something monumental.

You haven’t even known him for twenty-four hours and yet you’ve never felt like this about anyone else before. The potential of him and of what this seemed like it could be was too good, too perfect. And it scares you. Because the reality of it could crush you if you let yourself give into it and he changed his mind. You don’t want to get swept up in a daydream or a flight of fancy.

What-ifs are just heart aches, not heart breaks.

You can’t give him what he wants, not right now. But you can’t lie to him either.

Even if you want to. Even if you’re dying to.

“Stay safe, Lieutenant Commander Bradley Rooster Bradshaw,” you say, softly not trusting your voice.

Bradley leans in and tips your chin up with a finger under your chin, your eyes flutter close and your breath catches in your chest when you feel his warm breath ghosting over your face. He brushes the softest kiss you’ve ever been given against your cheek. The sweetness of it melts against your skin like a snowflake, like a wish.

“I hope I see you again,” he murmurs, lips lingering.

And then he’s gone, taken away on a summer breeze.

Those two months had moved slower than you thought possible.

You’d learned that your best friend hadn’t been able to give Hangman her number when she’d ended up being the one to try and corral the gaggle of drunken bridesmaids at last call and shepherd them into the waiting cabs. Apparently, she’d tried to look for him but by the time she’d had a moment he’d already left.

That packet of paper you’d kept on your island had taken on a life of its own.

At your friend’s wedding, you’d stood off to the side in your intricately beaded bridesmaid dress watching on with a glass of champagne in your hand as she had her first dance with her new husband. And let yourself imagine what it might have felt like if he’d have been there too. The next day as you had nursed your hangover, you’d regretted indulging those thoughts in addition to drinking the full bottle of champagne you’d snuck away with.

It felt like you were just going through the motions. Like your head was somewhere else, with someone else.

The more you tried to talk yourself out of it and forget about how he’d made you feel, the more he chased you in your dreams.

All the hours you’d spent wondering about what-if you went, what-if you waited, what-if you met him there had led you to this moment here and now. 

The drive had been made, the papers had been handed over and you were approved for entry, it was all happening.

You at Naval Air Station North Island wearing the same pink floral ruffle sundress that you had dropped him off in two months ago.

The smell of jet fuel and rubber mix with the ocean air as the planes start to land one by one and make the slow taxi along the long airstrip that leads to the ramp where they are to park. The perfect lines of them were just as immaculate on the ground as they were in the sky.

As more and more of them make their final descent, the more antsy the crowd of friends and families of the squadron members get. There’s an excited tension steadily building as they wait for the go-ahead to leave the hanger to greet the people they’ve been missing.

You can hear your heartbeat beating in your ears like a drum.

He’s here. He’s here. He’s here.

You hope you’re not making an idiot of yourself. You hope that he hasn’t forgotten you. You hope he remembers why he wanted you here in the first place. You hope he still wants you.

When the final engine of the final plane is turned off, the officer in charge announces that everyone is free to exit the hanger and another cheer goes out. This one much louder than before when the aviators had done the flyover in their faultless formations.

It’s a rush of people as they stream around you out of the domed arch of the hanger and onto the open tarmac under the cloudless blue sky.

The names on the planes had been clocked well in advance by their keen, anticipatory eyes. They know exactly which aircraft they’re heading to and who is going to be climbing out of that cockpit to greet them with equal enthusiasm.

You can see the beaming smiles, you can hear the giddy laughter.

Yet your feet stay stuck on that line between the cracked industrial cement floor and the sundrenched tarmac as you watch all those happy moments happen around you.

It’s the sound of a raspy, full bodied laugh that catches your ear and has your head whirling to the left.

And there he is.

Even from a distance the sight of Bradley Bradshaw has your heart fluttering in your chest.

You see him meeting up with a couple of other pilots with his helmet in hands. You recognized Bob by his glasses, but they’re joined by a fierce looking woman. Rooster is all smiles as she gives him a friendly, playful shove before slipping her hand into Bob’s.

There is nothing you want more than that smile of his to be directed at you.

You catch the way he seems to be checking over his shoulders and looking around to observe the joyful homecoming scenes unfolding around him.

It feels like half hope, half agony when you take that first step out of the shady hanger, onto the tarmac, and into the bright San Diego sun. There were still more than a few warm summer days to look forward to.

Summoning more courage, you take a few more tentative steps in Rooster’s direction. You feel like you’re holding your breath, waitingwaitingwaiting for him to look over and see you.

You’re noticed by his dark-haired female friend first, who nods her chin in your direction. You see the rise and fall of his shoulders as he takes a deep breath before he turns towards your direction and sees you for the first time in two months.

And for a moment, it’s just you and Bradley.

Across a crowded bar. Across a teeming tarmac.  

His eyes locked on yours and yours locked on his.

That easy smile he’d already been wearing is transformed into a wide grin that lights up his whole face.

Your stomach swoops and your feet start moving like they have a mind of their own towards him. He hands his helmet to Bob before he’s taking long strides to meet you halfway. You’re almost toe-to-toe with him, but you stop a respectable half-step further away than you’d like to be.

The two of you are a little greedy in the way you take in the other up close.

You can almost feel the warmth of his brown eyes on your skin, he’s looking at you like he is trying to soak up every inch of you. He has a heart-fluttering crinkle around his eyes as his gaze sweeps over your dress. And you know you’ve made the right choice by wearing it.

Rooster is more tan than the last time you saw him. Sweat dots his temples and his pretty curls are a little flat, no doubt from the shiny red and yellow helmet he’d all but blindly shoved into poor Bob’s hands. You notice that his lips are chapped and his nose a little sunburnt.

He’s still handsome as hell. Maybe even more so now.

“Hey, Sailor,” you greet him, giving him a grin of your own. “You look awfully familiar. Although I think the flight suit is throwing me off, maybe if you put those Summer Whites back on it’ll help jog my memory.”

He laughs and slides a finger under the thin strap of your dress and gently tugs you in even closer.

“Huh, that’s funny because I definitely remember you,” Bradley says, scooping you up with one arm, “Pretty sure you’re the girl of my dreams.”

And then he’s kissing you in a way that you’re pretty sure is going to screw you up forever.

Your wildest dreams never could have prepared you for the reminder of how good it feels to be held in his arms.

Your wildest dreams never could have prepared you for how good it feels to have his lips sliding against yours again.

Your wildest dreams never could have prepared you for a man like Bradley Bradshaw.

He was real and he was in front of you and he wanted you.

“I need you to stop smiling so much, sweetheart, so I can kiss you properly,” he says, pulling back to nudge your nose with his.

“My apologies, I’ll try to take this more seriously,” you tease, still smiling as you pull his face back to yours.

As Bradley presses you even closer, you realize this might not be a bad idea at all, but possibly the best one you’ve ever had.

There's no man quite like Bradley Bradshaw! Whether he is in his Summer Whites or in a Flight Suit he's That Man™️!

Many, many, MANY thanks to @gretagerwigsmuse for her support and endless cheerleading! He's finally got his pants off, Jordan, we did it!

If you missed Part 1 you can read it HERE! Or if you haven't read the story that started it all check out Hey, Sailor!

Moodboards: One || Two

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[sigmalaussene]

Top ten weird ways Oswald Cobbepot gets called in Gotham

As I was rewatching Gotham, I decided to write down every name that people in the show canonically call Oswald Cobblepot aka the Penguin. It was a wild ride. Please enjoy

10. "Funny looking fellow"

(season one)

We start with a simple one. This isn't even an insult, it's just a fact. He is, indeed, a funny looking fellow. I'm pretty sure they say it more than once too.

9. "The Dapper Gangland Kingpin"

(season two)

This one it's just silly, especially since it was written on a newspaper. Just... that's weird ? Idk it's silly it makes me chuckle

8. "Yellow rat snitch"

(season one)

We start getting a little weirder. Why a rat? And, more importantly, why yellow???

7. "Stupid lame birdbrain"

(season four)

Just so mean. Especially since this scene it's his dumb husband making a room full of people chant it

6. "Golden goose"

(season one)

Right back to season one and it's incredible dialogue. This one is particularly amazing thanks to Oswald's reply to it, which was, of course: "Honk honk". I can't even start to describe that scene. It's a classic.

5. "Beaky nosed freak"

(season five)

Definitely the best nickname the last season had to offer. Like, you know that moment when a guy kills your bestfriend/girlfriend and you call him the silliest name you can think of? This is one of those times.

4. "Scaley faced bitch"

(season one)

This is the first one in the show, directly from the first episode. I am a firm supporter of calling men bitches when they deserve it, and he did, so I wholeheartedly approve this message. Adding the scaley face part just makes it more poetic.

3. "Sad little breadhead"

(season two)

This one from never fails. Imagine it delivered with the most condicending tone in the world. Just amazing. Makes me laugh every time.

2. "Fruitcake leprechaun"

(season two)

This. This is the one that started it all. It was thinking about this one that I decided that this rewatch I was gonna write down all the nicknames. I dont know if it has something to do with english not being my first language, so I don't have the background of the word "fruitcake" used as an homophobic remark, but this name is one of the funniest things I have ever heard in my life.

1. "Limping little chickenbutt second banana"

(season one)

This couldn't not be on the first place. I am obsessed with the writers of this show, i want to get inside their brains. Because like what does it mean? How did they come up with this? I need to know every thought that crossed their mind for them to write this. This is art. This is poetry. Incredible. Amazing. Absolutely insane. Kudos to the actor who played Maroni because if they gave me that line I wouldn't be able to say it with a straight face.

Bonus:

(For the fans, he is also called "the only thing Nygma cares about". Just... you know, in case you forgot)

Some recurrent nicknames are: "Pengy", "Ozzie", "freak", "cockroach", "punk", bird related names (bird/birdman, feathered friend, chicken, turkey...) and "little"/"tiny" followed by almost anything (man, friend, dirtbag, bastard, creep, twerp, freak, weasel...)

Edit: i realize i didn't mention "Major Crumblepot" and that's on me sorry guys

His haircut is described as "disco vampire hair" at one point (another classic)

He is also called "specimen", which is really funny, and "dewdropper"?? for some reason I don't remember but it was in my notes and I couldn't ignore it lmao

[rafesapologist]

the setback ─ rafe cameron (sequel to the set up)

summary: it's been two years since your departure from the outer banks and rafe cameron has seemingly convinced himself that he can go on with his life as if you never happened, except now more than ever his addiction is at an all time high. whether he was snorting lines of cocaine at wild parties or drowning himself in alcohol to numb the pain, rafe couldn't escape the memories of you. despite his efforts to bury his feelings, your absence lingered like a shadow, haunting him at every turn. meanwhile, you've been navigating life outside the outer banks, trying to carve out a new path for yourself. but no matter how far you've traveled, the memories of rafe cameron still linger in your heart, leaving you with a sense of unfinished business. as you find yourself facing new challenges and opportunities, you can't help but wonder if fate will eventually bring you back to the place where it all began.

warnings: not much, angst, mentions of addiction and drug use, mentions of alcohol

author's note: the sequel is here!! thank you guys for showing so much love for the set up and i can't wait for you guys to read the continuation of the series! mwah

Rafe wiped the sweat from his brow as he hoisted another crate onto the ship's deck, the muscles in his arms straining against the weight. The salty tang of the sea filled the air around him, mingling with the scent of freshly sawn wood and the metallic hint of the gold hidden within the crates. His father, a rugged man with a weather-beaten face and a glint of mischief in his eyes, worked alongside him, his movements deft and sure.

"You're moving slower than a sloth today, Rafe," Ward teased, his voice carrying over the sounds of the bustling port. "Pick up the pace, boy!"

Rafe shot his father a mock glare before responding with a grin. "Maybe if you'd stop distracting me with your incessant chatter, old man, I could actually get some work done."

Ward chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Ah, but where's the fun in that? Besides, a little banter makes the time go by faster."

As they continued their task, Ward's tone shifted, his voice taking on a more serious note. "You know, Rafe, I've been hard on you over the years. Pushed you to be better than you thought you could be."

Rafe paused, surprised by his father's admission. He glanced up, meeting Ward's gaze with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation.

"But you've turned out to be my best child," Ward continued, his expression softening with pride. "Strong, capable, and fiercely loyal. I couldn't ask for more."

Rafe's heart swelled at his father's words, a rush of emotion flooding through him. For so long, he had sought his father's approval, yearning for even the smallest sign of acceptance. And now, here it was, offered freely in the midst of their everyday routine.

"Unlike your sister," Ward muttered, his voice heavy with regret. "Sarah always had a wild streak in her. Ran off two years ago, couldn't handle the life we lead. Sometimes I wonder if I pushed her too hard."

Rafe's heart clenched at the mention of Sarah, his sister who had always been their father's favorite. He'd watched with a mixture of resentment and envy as Ward showered her with praise and affection, leaving Rafe to feel like an afterthought.

"Yeah, well, maybe if you'd paid as much attention to me as you did to her, she wouldn't have felt the need to run," Rafe blurted out before he could stop himself.

Ward's gaze snapped to Rafe, his expression a mix of surprise and hurt. For a moment, the air between them crackled with tension, each of them grappling with the weight of their unspoken words.

But then Ward's features softened, his gaze filled with a mixture of regret and understanding. "I'm sorry, Rafe," he said quietly. "I never meant to make you feel like you weren't enough. You're my son, and I love you, no matter what."

Rafe swallowed past the lump in his throat, his eyes burning with unshed tears. In that moment, he realized that maybe, just maybe, there was hope for their fractured relationship after all.

Rafe wiped his forehead with his shirt, the midday sun beating down relentlessly as he and his father continued their task under the sweltering heat of Figure Eight's early summer. The air was heavy with the scent of salt and sweat, the rhythmic lapping of waves against the dock providing a backdrop to their labor.

"So, how're things with you and Sofia?" Ward asked, his voice cutting through the oppressive heat as he glanced over at Rafe.

Rafe paused, taken aback by his father's sudden inquiry. He hadn't expected Ward to broach the subject of his relationship with Sofia, not after their last conversation had ended in a heated argument about Rafe's antics.

"Uh, things are good," Rafe replied cautiously, unsure of how much he wanted to divulge. "We're… figuring things out, I guess."

Ward nodded, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "She's a good girl, that one. Strong-willed, like you. You two make a good match."

Rafe couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at his father's words, a warmth spreading through him despite the oppressive heat. It was rare for Ward to offer his approval so freely, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

"Yeah, she's something special," Rafe agreed, a fond smile playing at his lips as he thought of Sofia. "I'm lucky to have her."

Ward clapped him on the back, a grin spreading across his weathered face. "That you are, son. That you are."

As Rafe continued with his work, his thoughts drifted back to the early days of his relationship with Sofia, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. They had been through so much together, weathering storms both literal and figurative, yet somehow emerging stronger each time.

But as memories of their first meeting flooded his mind, Rafe's smile faltered, replaced by a pang of sadness. He remembered the excitement and nervousness he had felt as he approached her that day, the thrill of possibility mingling with the uncertainty of the unknown.

And then, like a sudden storm cloud on a clear day, another memory intruded upon his thoughts. A memory of someone else, someone who had once been a constant presence in his life but had vanished without a trace.

"You were still here," Rafe whispered to himself, the words barely audible over the din of the bustling port. "Before you ran away."

The pain of your disappearance still lingered, a wound that had yet to fully heal. Rafe couldn't help but wonder where you had gone, what had driven you to leave without so much as an explanation. Had it been something he had said or done? Or had you simply grown tired of waiting for him to change, to become the person you had hoped he would be?

As the memories threatened to overwhelm him, Rafe shook his head, banishing them to the recesses of his mind once more. There was work to be done, and he couldn't afford to let himself be consumed by thoughts of the past, no matter how painful they might be.

But deep down, in the quiet corners of his heart, he couldn't shake the feeling that he would never truly be able to move on until he had unraveled the reasoning of your disappearance and found closure once and for all.

With a determined shake of his head, Rafe pushed aside the tumult of emotions swirling within him and focused on the task at hand. He hoisted the final crate onto the ship with a grunt of effort, the weight of it a physical reminder of the burdens he carried both on and off the dock.

"Finished up here, Dad," Rafe called out, wiping his hands on his trousers as he made his way over to where Ward stood overseeing the loading process.

Ward glanced up, his brow furrowing in mild surprise at the sudden interruption. "Already? Well, I'll be damned. Looks like you're finally starting to earn your keep around here."

Rafe grinned at his father's gruff praise, a sense of satisfaction settling over him despite the lingering ache in his heart. "Guess I'm good for something after all."

Ward chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder with a rough hand. "Don't sell yourself short, son. You've got more potential than you give yourself credit for."

With a nod of thanks, Rafe stepped away from his father and headed toward the gangplank, eager to escape the confines of the dock and lose himself in the familiar streets of Figure Eight once more.

"I'm heading out to meet up with Sofia," he called over his shoulder, his voice carrying on the breeze. "I'll be back later."

Ward waved him off with a casual salute, his attention already turning back to the task at hand. "Take your time, Rafe. Just don't keep the girl waiting too long, or she might start thinking you've forgotten about her."

Rafe laughed, the sound ringing out clear and bright against the backdrop of the bustling port. "Trust me, Dad. That's the last thing I'd ever do."

As Rafe cruised down the sun-drenched streets of Figure Eight in his trusty old truck, a sense of freedom washed over him. The wind whipped through the open windows, tousling his hair and carrying with it the scent of salt and sea. He couldn't help but feel a surge of joy bubbling up inside him, the promise of the afternoon ahead adding an extra spring to his step.

But as he idly flipped through the radio stations, searching for the perfect soundtrack to accompany his journey, his heart skipped a beat when he stumbled upon a familiar melody. The haunting strains of "Gold Dust Woman" by Fleetwood Mac filled the cab of the truck, wrapping around him like a warm embrace.

For a moment, Rafe's finger hovered over the buttons, torn between the desire to switch the song and the inexplicable pull of nostalgia that tugged at his heartstrings. It was a song you had loved, one that had become intertwined with memories of lazy afternoons spent driving aimlessly along the coast, lost in each other's company.

With a sigh, Rafe let his finger fall away from the radio, surrendering to the flood of memories that threatened to overwhelm him. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to be swept away by the bittersweet melody, the lyrics weaving a tapestry of emotions that mirrored the tangled mess of his thoughts.

In that moment, you felt closer to him than ever, your presence lingering in the spaces between the notes, in the warmth of the sunlight on his skin. And as he drove on, your memory by his side, Rafe couldn't help but wonder if somewhere out there, you were listening to the same song, thinking of him as he was thinking of you.

As Rafe pulled into Sofia's driveway, he couldn't shake the feeling of being haunted by your presence, like a ghost lingering in the shadows of his mind. He sighed heavily, trying to push aside the memories that threatened to overwhelm him, focusing instead on the task at hand.

He turned off the engine and leaned back in his seat, the familiar comfort of his truck offering him a brief respite from the turmoil within. But even as he tried to clear his mind, he found himself unable to shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him from within.

With a shaky breath, Rafe closed his eyes, willing himself to find some semblance of peace amidst the storm of emotions that raged inside him. He reminded himself that he was here for Sofia, that she was the one who mattered in this moment, not the ghosts of his past that threatened to consume him.

Minutes passed like hours as Rafe waited in silence, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him like a heavy burden. But just when he felt like he couldn't bear it any longer, the front door of Sofia's house swung open, and she emerged onto the porch, a bright smile lighting up her face.

Rafe's heart skipped a beat at the sight of her, the warmth of her presence chasing away the shadows that had threatened to engulf him. With a sense of relief washing over him, he pushed open the door of his truck and stepped out onto the gravel driveway, ready to leave the ghosts of his past behind and embrace the promise of the present moment with Sofia by his side.

Sofia's cheerful voice broke through the haze of Rafe's thoughts as she opened the passenger door and greeted him with a warm smile. The kiss she placed on his cheek sent a flutter through his chest, dispelling the lingering shadows that had haunted him moments before.

"Hey, you," Sofia said, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Ready for tonight?"

Rafe returned her smile, the weight of his worries easing at the sight of her infectious enthusiasm. "Absolutely," he replied, his voice laced with anticipation. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

As he stepped out of the truck and joined Sofia on the driveway, he felt a renewed sense of purpose wash over him. Whatever demons lurked in the corners of his mind, he knew that as long as he had Sofia by his side, he could face them head-on with unwavering determination.

With a quick squeeze of Sofia's hand, Rafe followed her lead as they made their way towards the house, leaving the shadows of his past behind and embracing the promise of the night ahead. Whatever challenges awaited them at the party, Rafe knew that together, they could conquer anything that came their way.

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You were sprawled out on a hammock with JJ, the gentle sway of the hammock lulling you into a state of blissful relaxation. The warm summer breeze rustled through the trees, carrying with it the sweet scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers. You took a deep inhale, the fragrant smoke from the blunt swirling around you as you passed it back and forth with JJ.

"Man, this is the life," JJ said, his voice lazy with contentment as he took another hit before passing the blunt back to you. "Just kicking back, enjoying the sun, and getting high with my favorite person."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his words, the corners of your lips curling up into a lazy smile. "Right back at you, JJ," you replied, taking a long drag from the blunt before passing it back to him. "Couldn't think of a better way to spend the day."

As the two of you lounged in comfortable silence, the stresses of the outside world melted away, leaving nothing but the warmth of the sun on your skin and the soothing rhythm of the hammock beneath you. In that moment, surrounded by the peaceful tranquility of nature and the company of a good friend, you felt truly at ease, content to simply exist in the here and now.

JJ took another hit from the blunt, his gaze distant as he reminisced. "Life was wild back on the cut, huh?" he mused, exhaling a plume of smoke into the air. "But I gotta say, we're much better off where we are now."

You nodded in agreement, the memories of your past life tugging at the corners of your mind. "Yeah, definitely," you replied, your voice soft as you passed the blunt back to him. "It's been a crazy journey, but I wouldn't trade it for anything."

As you took another hit, however, your smile faltered, a shadow passing over your features. Memories of your time on the cut flooded back, and with them came thoughts of Rafe. "Remember those days at the chateau?" you said, your voice tinged with nostalgia. "Those were some good times."

JJ's expression softened, a hint of sadness in his eyes as he nodded in agreement. "Yeah, they were," he said quietly. "But you know what they say about nostalgia… sometimes, it ain't all it's cracked up to be."

You couldn't help but laugh at his words, the tension easing from your shoulders as you took another hit from the blunt. "True that," you replied, a wistful smile playing at your lips. "But hey, at least we made it out alive, right?"

With a shared chuckle, you and JJ settled back into the comforting rhythm of the hammock, content to bask in the warmth of the sun and the camaraderie of each other's company, even as the memories of the past lingered on the edges of your consciousness.

As you and JJ lounged on the hammock, lost in reminiscence, the sound of footsteps approaching drew your attention. You glanced up to see Kiara emerging from the house, a cooler full of drinks in her hands, followed closely by Sarah, a mischievous smirk playing at her lips.

"Hey, look who decided to join the party," Kiara said with a grin, setting the cooler down beside the hammock. "Thought you two could use a little refreshment."

You couldn't help but sit up in excitement, the prospect of cold drinks on a hot day too good to pass up. "Hell yeah, thanks Kiara," you said, reaching eagerly for a beverage as she offered them around.

Sarah followed suit, her smirk widening as she made eye contact with you. "Enjoying yourselves, I see?" she teased, her tone light-hearted as she handed you a drink.

You chuckled in response, taking a swig from the can and relishing the cool liquid as it slid down your throat. "Absolutely," you replied, a grin spreading across your face. "Nothing beats kicking back with good company and a cold drink on a day like today."

JJ echoed your sentiment, taking a drink of his own and offering a nod of thanks to Sarah and Kiara. As the four of you settled into easy conversation, the worries of the past and the uncertainties of the future faded into the background, replaced by the simple pleasure of the present moment and the warmth of friendship.

As you enjoyed the drinks and banter with Kiara, Sarah, and JJ, your attention was drawn to a nearby jacuzzi where John B and Pope lounged, seemingly lost in their own conversation. You couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of JJ's impulsive purchase, a jacuzzi that seemed out of place yet strangely fitting in the backyard of the house.

"Check it out," you said, nudging JJ with your elbow and gesturing towards the jacuzzi. "Looks like John B and Pope are living the high life over there."

JJ grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watched his friends. "Hey, if we're gonna do this whole beach lifestyle thing, might as well do it right," he remarked, a hint of pride in his voice.

You couldn't argue with that logic, especially not when you saw the smiles on John B and Pope's faces as they relaxed in the warm water, their cares melting away with each passing moment. With a nod of agreement, you settled back into the hammock, content to bask in the simple joys of friendship and camaraderie, even as the world around you seemed to spin with uncertainty.

As you basked in the warmth and joy of the moment, a sense of contentment washed over you like a soothing tide. Here, in this idyllic setting, you were free from the debts and drama that had plagued your life back in the Outer Banks. The weight of those burdens lifted from your shoulders, leaving you feeling light and unencumbered for the first time in what felt like ages.

You couldn't help but marvel at the peace you had found in this new life, a life where you weren't constantly running from something or someone. Here, surrounded by friends who felt more like family, you finally felt like you belonged.

But even as you reveled in the happiness of the present, a twinge of guilt gnawed at the edges of your consciousness. You couldn't shake the feeling that despite the freedom and joy you now experienced, a part of you still felt tethered to the past, to the people you had left behind without a word of explanation.

Memories of your abrupt departure crept into your mind, casting a shadow over the tranquility of the moment. You couldn't help but wonder if you had made the right choice, if leaving had been the only option or simply the easiest one.

With a heavy sigh, you pushed aside the doubts and regrets that threatened to dampen your spirits, focusing instead on the warmth of the sun on your skin and the laughter of your friends echoing in the air. Here, in this moment, you were determined to embrace the peace and happiness that surrounded you, letting go of the past and embracing the promise of the future with open arms.

With a satisfied sigh, you finished the last sips of your drink and set the empty can aside. Feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin, you decided it was time for a refreshing dip in the jacuzzi. With practiced ease, you peeled off your loose t-shirt, revealing the vibrant bikini underneath.

As you sat up from the hammock, the cool breeze playing across your skin, you made your way over to the jacuzzi where John B and Pope lounged, enjoying the warm water. With a playful grin, you called out to them, "Hey guys, mind making some room for me?"

John B and Pope looked up, their faces breaking into wide smiles at the sight of you approaching. "Of course, come on in!" John B exclaimed, scooting over to make space for you beside him.

You slipped into the jacuzzi with a contented sigh, the warm water enveloping you in its comforting embrace. As you settled in between your friends, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the simple pleasures of life, for moments like these spent with good friends in the warmth of the sun. With a smile, you leaned back and let the worries of the world slip away, fully embracing the peace and happiness of the present moment.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Rafe leaned against the doorway of Sofia's room, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched her finish getting ready. She moved with effortless grace, her movements fluid and purposeful as she applied the final touches to her outfit.

"You look beautiful," Rafe said softly, his voice filled with genuine admiration as he took in the sight of her.

Sofia turned to him, a radiant smile lighting up her features. "Thanks, Rafe," she replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "You're not looking too bad yourself."

Rafe chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through him at her compliment. He couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for this girl who had stolen his heart, who had stood by him through thick and thin, who had helped him find his place in the world.

As Sofia put the finishing touches on her makeup, Rafe couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within him. Tonight was going to be special, he could feel it in his bones. And with Sofia by his side, he knew that no matter what the night held in store, it would be a memory he would cherish for years to come.

With a final glance in the mirror, Sofia turned to Rafe, a playful glint in her eye. "Ready to go?" she asked, holding out her hand to him.

Rafe nodded, a grin spreading across his face as he took her hand in his. "Absolutely," he replied, his heart racing with excitement as they made their way out the door and into the night, ready to take on whatever adventures awaited them together.

As Rafe and Sofia headed to Topper's house party, the anticipation buzzed between them, filling the car with an infectious energy. With the windows down and the music blaring, they sang along to their favorite songs, laughter dancing on their lips as they shared the joy of the moment.

Rafe stole glances at Sofia in the passenger seat, his heart swelling with affection as he watched her sing her heart out, her laughter filling the air like music. Her happiness was contagious, and he couldn't help but smile as he soaked in the sight of her, the love he felt for her radiating from every fiber of his being.

But as he glanced over at her once more, something shifted. For a split second, he thought he saw a flash of your face superimposed over hers, your eyes meeting his in a haunting echo of the past. His heart skipped a beat, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he blinked in disbelief.

The moment passed in the blink of an eye, leaving Rafe shaken and disoriented. He shook his head, trying to shake off the strange sensation that lingered in the air. But deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that your presence still lingered, a ghost haunting the edges of his consciousness, refusing to be ignored.

Sofia's sweet gesture snapped Rafe out of his momentary dissociation, her warm kiss on his cheek grounding him in the present. He blinked, the remnants of the strange sensation fading away as he met her gaze, her smile a beacon of light in the darkness.

"Can't wait for the party, huh?" Rafe echoed, a smile spreading across his face as he reached up to brush a strand of hair away from her face. "Me neither. It's gonna be a blast."

Sofia's eyes sparkled with excitement as she settled back into her seat, the anticipation palpable in the air between them. With a renewed sense of determination, Rafe refocused his attention on the road ahead, the memory of your face fading into the recesses of his mind as he focused on the promise of the night ahead with Sofia by his side.

As Rafe drove, the weight of what had just happened settled heavily on his shoulders, casting a shadow over his thoughts. Try as he might to shake off the strange sensation, the memory of your face superimposed over Sofia's lingered in the corners of his mind, refusing to be ignored.

With a heavy sigh, Rafe felt himself zoning out, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he lost himself in the rhythm of the road. The familiar longing for escape crept up on him like an unwelcome guest, gnawing at his impulses and filling him with a restless energy.

He couldn't help but feel trapped, caught between the pull of his past and the promise of the future. The road stretched out before him, endless and unforgiving, a tantalizing temptation beckoning him to leave it all behind and disappear into the unknown.

As Rafe navigated the streets towards the party, a sense of unease gnawed at him. He couldn't shake the feeling that this party was just another part of his plan to escape, a temporary reprieve from the weight of his troubles. And buried beneath that unease lurked the insidious craving for something more, something that promised to numb the pain and quiet the demons that haunted him.

Coke.

The mere thought sent a shiver down Rafe's spine, a mixture of desire and dread swirling in the pit of his stomach. He knew the dangers of succumbing to his cravings, knew the havoc it could wreak on his life and the lives of those he cared about. But in moments of weakness, the allure of escape proved too strong to resist.

As he pulled into the driveway of Topper's house, the bass thumping from the speakers and the laughter of the partygoers filling the air, Rafe felt a familiar sense of anticipation building within him. He knew what awaited him inside, knew the temptations that lurked in the shadows, yet he couldn't deny the pull they held over him.

With a heavy sigh, Rafe steeled himself for what lay ahead, determined to navigate the minefield of his desires with caution and restraint. But deep down, he couldn't shake the sinking feeling that tonight, like so many nights before, would end in a blur of euphoria and regret.

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Five Hargreeves Dirty Headcanons ABC's

(Rated M for sexually explicit content, 5438 words, the last one for Z is sort of a mini story for you to enjoy. This list explores Five and his relationship with 'you' while taking a small dive into his very complicated psyche and looking at some of the reasons why he is the way he is. This is written with 'you' as anyone-not male or female specific.)

Note~ me doing this idea was actually born from me not sleeping last night, and a request my dearest friend Bad Kitty got to do a list this way. She just did a headcanon for Five, so she respectfully declined. Check her stuff out with the link above and I swear you won't be disappointed.

All right.... I hope I did this in a way that's satisfying for all you lovely Five fans out there. 🤞

A-      A student, Aftercare

Number Five doesn't do anything half ass, and that includes you. He’s a hyper focused genius who is going to study you like you’re just another thing he needs to conquer. Every sign your body gives him that he’s doing something right will be cataloged and used to his and your benefit. Five is all about attention to detail and from the moment the tip of his thick cock slips inside you, to the moment he’s done filling you, your pleasure is his. He will always make sure you come, usually more than once and always screaming his name.

With aftercare, he’ll be sure to touch you with the most cautious and gentle of touches as he wipes up the mess he made of you, his soft green eyes dementedly delighting in the glisten of his seed leaking out of you onto the sheets.

B-      Biting, Bondage

Five may seem refined, but he loves to let the feral part of him go wild when he’s with you, not just when he’s swinging an ax through someone’s face. Biting his teeth into your neck hard enough to make you cry out, or softly nibbling on the shell of your ear never gets old. Your agitated sounds of complaint when he does these things arouse dark parts in him that only make him want to drag his teeth along your skin and confuse you even more. Biting your quivering lower lip as his hips violently thrust into you and your nails dig into his back is just one of the ways he makes sure you never forget that you are his.

As a trained killer who loves to exert his power over others, Five is not opposed to using the silk length of his tie to bind your wrists, fastening them above your head, then to the headboard so you can’t touch him. Now you can’t get away-not that you want to.

The look of you that way and the feel of your body under him reminds Five of being with Dolores. She couldn’t touch him back no matter how much he wished she could, and now neither can you.

C-     Control

Thanks to Five’s upbringing where he didn't get to learn what it meant to have the love of a real parent, he suffers from issues of self-worth and trust. He wanted approval, but all he ever got was ridicule and abuse. Due to this, he naturally developed coping mechanisms, such as the need to be the best at everything and becoming extremely self-reliant.

Five is the king of survival, and he knows how to take care of himself.  As such, he struggles with the need to control everything. This includes many things in your relationship, especially with all things sex.

D- Dominance, Dolores

Five is dominant, there’s no question about it. Living a lifetime with Dolores as his only companion only instilled that quality in him even more. This plays heavily in his joy of you calling him Daddy, and that has little to do with his real mental age of being way older than he looks, and much more to do with him wanting to take care of you because that’s what he knows and is good at.

Just like with his beloved mannequin, Five loves manhandling you into positions that make it even better when he fucks his long hard cock into you. With a sheen of sweat causing his chocolate fringe of hair to stick to his forehead, Five could pin you down and thwack his hips into your ass while it's flipped up in the air all day long, all the while maintaining a devilish side smirk and insisting that you are doing such a good job for Daddy.

He's such a wonderfully fucked up jerk, but you love your daddy for all his kinks and oddball quirks. Even his little ticks make you want him even more.

E-      Escapism

Sex is about love for Five. He’s just that kind of man.

He could fuck anyone, but he didn’t, not until he found you. He couldn’t open that part of himself without the intimacy that a real love based relationship gives him. That’s not to say that sex isn’t his favorite form of escapism because it is.

Five is hardly a simple man, but to him, the ecstasy of having an orgasm and the momentary blind eroticism of feeling your body release in that way are just part of what it means for him to be human. He is filled with a mysterious power that may or may not be originally from the alien race his adoptive father belonged to, but he’s still a man and he loves to fuck.

F-      Fingers

This guy’s long sexy fingers are really something, whether you look at him using his dexterity when steadily pulling the trigger that ends someone’s life in the blink of an eye, or if it’s when he’s running them between your legs, languishing in the feel of your engorged flesh wetly dripping for him. Don’t be surprised if Five sucks your lust off his dangerous digits, or if he forces them in your mouth after he’s had them inside you. Both options are great in his mind, and he’ll never get enough of tasting you or good naturedly debasing you.

G-     Grasping, Growling, Groping, Gripping

While hoisting your ass off the bed so he can pump his cock into you with an unforgiving rhythm that makes your insides clench around him and your mouth drop open wide while you gasp out stuttering profanities, Five is for sure going to latch onto your hips, your waist, your hair, your neck, your thighs, or basically anything he can get his hands on.

What you have is his, and he’s not letting it go. When your bodies are connected, he couldn’t be happier. Growling out throaty sounds of euphoria as his tip slips back and forth just inside your slicked entrance, Five knows just how to manipulate your body, and he knows it’s driving you equally crazy.

H-     Humping, Holes

With no shame and little other options, Five is no stranger to getting off by humping inanimate objects, but thankfully, now he has you. Still, you are often a target for his hip thrusting exertions where his hot length grinds against the side of your leg, or your ass crack. He really likes doing this when he wakes up with a boner that refuses to be ignored.

You don’t mind, he is young again after all.

It’s hot as hell watching Five lose himself in such an innocent way, but your heart also breaks a little when you think of all the loneliness he’s had to endure and why he’s still attached to doing this.

The good news is, he’s healing from all that. He has other options when it comes to being with you, and he’s not about to overlook several places on your body where he can insert his needy cock. Five isn’t picky, he will fuck any hole you let him pound.

 I- Imagination

Let’s face it, Five has a very big imagination. Dolores anyone….

Without his ability to imagine her love for him, he wouldn’t be here. She was his voice of reason, and what he considers the personification of all the best parts of him. Without Five there would be no Dolores, and without her, there would be no Five.

Thanks to that enamel covered molding of plastic and resin, you have Five and his imagination is just as strong as it ever was. He never seems to run out of ways to ravish you. Like in public, when he blinks you into a fitting room where he then shoves you against a mirror and slips his fingers and then his cock inside you while he watches your hands palm the glass and your eyes droop.

It’s all Five and his imagination coming to life. He makes your head spin and your body spasm your shuttering release.

He gets stuck in his head sometimes, but it’s not all bad. Sometimes it's just in him fretting giving you small gifts to show how much you mean to him or it's in the simple but as meaningful things he loves to do, like him quietly reading your favorite book to you while you lay together in bed.

J- Jerking off

Five knows how to polish his palm. One might say he’s the master of masturbation.

Needs being such in his many times of despair, the act of self-love gave him something other than pain and suffering to think about. Eventually, for a young boy all alone in the apocalypse, his desire to lose himself in this way became an addition. Smart as he is, Five knew this was happening, but he still became reliant on it, and now he’s still partly that boy, and also that lonely man, sometimes a bit too involved with playing around with his hands down his pants.

He’s shameless about it, never shy about taking his hardened shaft out to show you how it’s done. Fingers tightly curled around the base, he’ll slide them up and down his erection, sure to prolong his climax as long as possible. Not until he’s had enough will he tease the super sensitive slit and the bulbing band of his cherry red tip with his forefinger, circling it round and round before he goes at it hard, fucking himself so brutally his hand is nothing but a blur.

Not one to leave you out, when Five throws his head back and growls, “Get your pretty mouth over here,” you listen. Then you are compensated with the sound of Five groaning out your name as hot spurts his nearly translucent semen flick onto your waiting tongue and then drip down your lips onto your chin.

K- Kissing

The simple pleasure of kissing someone real was something Five had not known until he found you. Not until your first kiss did he understand why people in the romance novels he’d read seemed to be so taken by it.

The first time he looked into your eyes, knowing you saw him for who he really was, all the good and the bad, and that you wanted him anyway, he nervously but determinedly advanced. Slowly at first, he came within a hair’s width from your lips as his uneasy breaths danced across your skin. He was scared, but the moment his mouth touched yours and then molded around your warmth, softly pressing into your acceptance, he never looked back.

Now, after he’s had time to learn how to do it. Five is all about kissing. Running his tongue across your teeth, or tangling it with yours, it doesn’t matter. He’s in heaven when his mouth is on yours.

L- Licking

Five may not look it, but he’s strong, and so is his tongue, and he’s not afraid to fuck you with it. Before you come, he’ll get you so worked up and dripping with anticipation that it’s insane. He’ll happily lap your liquid desire for him until you’re a puddle of goo, laying there with him between your legs, the backs of your knees dangling limply over his heaving shoulders. Catching his breath after your body has just repeatedly tensed and then uncoiled, giving itself over to his mouth, he’ll chuckle at your state of complete and utter destruction, his boyishly handsome dimple doing you in even more.

M- Manipulation

Five is very clever and knows how to get what he wants but he doesn't mentally try to manipulate you. He will however indulge in the fantasy of using you as his own personal fuck doll. This, as is many of his tastes is simply something that's a part of him ,as much as his witty yet dryly delivered comments. Sometimes he asks nicely for you to lay down and not move as much as possible, sometimes he prefers to take your options away manually, and that's when we get the extra special suppressive simulation of bondage added to his sexual exploits.

N- Nuzzling, Naughty talk

Five is many things, uninhibited in bed being only one of them, but he’s also the most loving and tender person you’ve ever known. He shows this in many ways, but one that never gets old is when he’s feeling exceptionally needy and he buries his face against your neck, murmuring sweet nothings about how much you mean to him while he brushes the tip of his nose along the underside of your jaw. He’ll press his face against your ear, cherishing the smell of your hair and the feeling of your skin against his. Five can’t get enough of loving you in these small but passionate ways.

Also, while doing this and at many other times as well, Five lets his silver tongue go verbally, never ceasing to shock you with the dirty things he comes up with. If he tells you to get over here and sit on his dick and ride until he says stop, that’s always fun, and so is watching his eyes comically roll back in his head as he cries out how fucking good you are a taking his cock.

O- Ownership

Five is possessive. He doesn’t covet things unless they have value, and he doesn’t have much to his name and never did. He is a simple man in this way. He was also the kid who did not let the other kids play with his toys, and with you now it’s no different.

He’s not the type to prevent you from doing anything you want, but he is extremely territorial. If something is important to Five, like you are, or even when we are talking about something as seemingly insignificant as one of his tailored suits, if someone dares fuck with the things he holds dear, they are in trouble.

Five doesn’t own you but you own his heart, and if anyone he’s not okay with gets too handsy and lays a finger on you or the fine wool fabric of his sexy suit, expect retaliation and not always something as simple as him angrily swatting their hand away followed by a few choice words of distaste.

P- Punishment, Promises

Being someone that considers their opinion to be more often than not the only one that matters, Five comes off very harsh at times, but with you it’s all a game.

Teasing him about his real age brings out a side in him that’s all about showing you who’s the boss. And one of his favorite ways of doing it is threatening you with holding back when your body is just about to start convulsing from the rhythmic roll of hips pushing his dick so far inside you that you're sure he’s hitting your belly button. Another way is when he throws a hand back and smacks you in the ass while you’re already struggling to keep hold of the sheets so he doesn’t fuck you straight through the mattress.

Five’s promises to take care of you are just as true as his promises that you will pay for your sassy little comments. Together, your back-and-forth, fight style flirtations always lead to him getting overly worked up, and you getting pinned somewhere like against a wall while he frantically fucks his own brains out by way of pounding the fuck out of you.

Q- Quivering, Quaking

Five is beautiful. His soft bedroom eyes with their long dark lashes fanning his flushed cheeks as he looks down at you underneath him take your breath away almost as effectively as his desperate kisses.  But it’s after he’s finally let go and let himself fall over the edge, when you can feel the heat of his cock quaking its last grievances inside you, his body quivering as his legs let go and he collapses at your side, that you are both the most at peace.

R- Rough

Five loves to take you any way he can, but the guy loves it rough. His lean body and his sinewy muscles making a mouth watering ‘V’ as they point like an arrow downwards towards his perfectly tailored dress pants, spelling out all kinds of trouble, but in this case, it's the good kind of trouble.

His body is built for action and that’s what you’re going to get. Five loves to surprise you by blinking himself right on top of you, holding you down with his legs as he attacks. Be it all his training as a child, or as an assassin, Five Hargreeves likes to fuck hard and fast, with his hands holding you down under him with no mercy.

S- Submission

Five craves your submission. Just hearing you beg for it gets him hard, and he often demands you verbalize how much you want him to fuck you harder, or make you come. He'll get you to say it, or he’ll stop thrusting his cock inside you. While you’re losing your mind, he’ll merely look down at you with his cocky grin, just waiting for you to plead with him to give you his cock again.

When it goes the other way, at least when it’s in between the sheets, Five is rarely the one to give himself over that way, but with you, he will. But he only does so knowing that it’s in his benefit.

There’s been more than once he has shown you how much he trusts you, and wow is it a sight to watch Five Hargreeves wither and writhe as you torment all his sense, using blindfolds and gags, and even handcuffs to keep his greedy hands off until you say so.

Imagine his face twisted with agony, lips parted as helpless moans for more pour out of him.

T- Tits

Your body is a wonderland, plain and simple. Anything Five can stimulate himself with while also getting a rise out of you is fair game, and that includes tits.

Small ones, big ones, his or yours, whatever. Five adores the perky points of flesh that he can nipple and suck on. Making them hard nubs with the carefully cruel but also sometimes achingly gentle tugs and rolls between his fingers, is one of his favorite pastimes whether in the privacy of your bed, or in public if he can get away with it.

U- Unlimited energy

The nature of Five’s ability to teleport is something that he never really talks much about, but you know that within him is an infinite strength. Without it, he’d never be able to summon enough energy to propel himself through time and space; it's just simple math.

That said, this same quality of his very unique power allows him an unfair advantage in bed.

Five has unlimited levels of vigor while he’s bucking his hips back and forth and his cock slips in and out, over and over and over. Always a perfectionist, he prefers you get off before him, but even when he’s not so lucky, he can rally. Using his already spent dick, semi hard and still throbbing from the loads of cum he just dumped in or on you, Five will show you that his recovery period is just as extraordinary as he is, and the next thing you know, your sexy teleporter is showing you a whole new rhythm with his hips smacking into yours.

V- Vulnerability

Most of the time, the people in this world that seem the most aloof and coldly indifferent are actually the most desperate and in need of love.

Five is this person.

All his traits point to this. With his extreme levels of trauma, he will always be this way. He longs for the acceptance he never got from Reginald and his siblings. Deep down he’s terrified of showing weakness because if he does, that means he can be hurt. The reality is, he’s already been hurt more than almost anyone that’s ever walked the planet, but in his vulnerability and fear is so much love.

Never the one to give up, Five is trying to learn how to accept the parts of himself that he hates and see that he’s someone deserving of happiness. You are a huge part of that.

W- Whimpers, Whispers, Whines

Anything that comes out of you that sounds broken and desperate makes Five’s dick and mind go wild. The more you keen and struggle, the more he tries to get more of it. It’s pretty much a vicious cycle of torment that’s part narcissistic fulfillment, and also purely for the joy of making you feel amazing. Five feeds off your pleasure.

X- X marks the spot

Five has left his mark on you. Whether he knows he’s doing it or not, he’s taken claim of your body and soul. Let’s face it, he occupies way too many of your thoughts. But his accusation of all that is yours doesn’t stop there. He also loves to mark physically.

Five uses his teeth, tongue, sucking, and licking. He’s an expert, using anything he has at his disposal. He leaves trails of his claim over you for all to see. He’s like a puppy, unable to help himself as his mouth covers you with anxious expressions of love.

Y- You

When we think about Five Hargreeves, we outwardly see a person that one would think only thinks about himself, but it’s actually the complete opposite.

As we know from his troubling past, he’s made mistakes and he’s paid for them, and all along it’s been his love for his family that willed him to keep going. Now, that’s still there despite their continued differences, but his aim in life is more directed at you.

Five wants nothing more than to make you happy. He’ll never stop being scared of losing you no matter how confident he seems. It’s not his fault; he’s lost so much, over and over.

Right or wrong, he also makes you a priority in all things orgasmic bliss. If he’s going solo, you and your naked body welcoming him are all that’s on his mind. When you are together, he’s damn sure to see to it that you get off. He’s a teleporting, ex-temporal assassin that may or may not be the founder of a time controlling agency, but first and foremost, Five Hargreeves is a gentleman, and a gentleman always takes care of his business, and you are his number one business.

Z- Zippers (Heads up~ This one is special because with it, I’m giving you guys a little taste of more in the moment/story writing that I am more used to doing. This part being very similar to something a very naughty version of Five does to someone in the story I wrote called ‘The Devil Within’)

            One of the most erotic sounds in Five’s opinion is the sound of his zipper being pulled down by your careful hand as you coyly gaze up at him with your adoring eyes.

Looking between his widely spread legs at the sight of you kneeling before him, ready to do as he asks, makes him feel more powerful than he’s ever felt, and that’s saying a lot because Five is very, very powerful and has done unimaginable things.

            It starts with a steadiness in his soothing words and his hand brushing along your cheek, then moving back into your hair. His fingers thread along your spine as he pulls you closer.

You can already see the bulge of his desire even before you open his pants, but now, pulling the fabric aside, you see the outline of Five’s erection filling the thin cotton underwear still covering him.

You know what he’s going to do but he warns you anyway.

“You’re going to eat my cock and love it, honey.”

Licking your lips, you nod.

Coming down on him, you kiss the wet spot of darkened material covering his deliciously rounded tip. Just thinking of it inside you, opening you up almost painfully, has you wishing you could touch yourself, but you don’t dare because right now, this is about him.

Sliding a hand down, Five pushes his underwear down, freeing his stiff cock.

You let out a little whimper.

Feeling pretty damn proud, Five grabs a wad of your hair, then sharply pulls your head, pushing you down closer to his body.

“Don’t be a tease, sweetheart” he tauntingly sings with misleadingly boyish play in his voice.

You lick your lips again, then open your mouth around him, your tongue leisurely tracing up the raised veins roping the length of his engorged shaft.

After only one pass, you stop to gauge Five’s reaction. 

The moment he locks eyes with you, you wrap your lips around him and Five is quick to push you down without warning, forcing you to gag around him as you struggle and gasp for air. 

Smirking, Five lets you sit that way, allowing you to adjust as he lets out a low groan over that sinful act of ruthlessness. His fingers play with your hair, petting you even if it is a degrading form of encouragement. Doing as he pleases, Five refuses to adjust the pressure he is putting on the back of your throat.

With a small smile of approval over your quick submission, Five reaches down, requesting you give him your hands. You do, then he proceeds to place them palm down on his thighs. Taking your hair again, Five lets you move freely, bobbing your head up and down, mostly working his tip with your tongue.

Your eyes flutter and your fingernails gently dig into Five’s slouched slacks as he starts rocking your head back and forth over him, making his dick disappear inside your wet mouth. Holding you the way he is, with your head tilted back, your throat open and lined up perfectly, it gives Five the deepest penetration and a view that before being with you, he’s only ever seen in porn, and the sight and the feel of it is making his already heavy cock feel like it might truly choke you if he gets any more turned on.

“If it’s too much let me know,” he says, clearly indicating that you should push back if he is too rough or if he makes you take him too deep.

He isn’t expecting it, but you immediately push back, then start circling your tongue around his cockhead as you moan. This is all part of the fun, but since this was not what he wants, Five's mind whirls with punishments he could deliver, but his stomach also fills with wonderful butterflies the more he listens to you. As you tease the underside of his shaft, his breathing grows heavy, and he can’t help but grind against your marvelous tongue.

Reaching up, your hand drags down over Five’s tensed abdomen. You’re taking your time with him, and it is evident you’re enjoying it, and the feeling of each ridge between his muscles as he holds his body tight, trying not to sway.

Five has to admit, he is enjoying this too, but then you wrap your hand around him, covering the base of his shaft, only not moving it. His hands clench and his knuckles whiten as he lets out a rough sounding sigh of exasperation.

Letting his penetrating gaze settle on you, Five is just about to start thrusting down your throat again when your hand begins to move and your head shallowly bobs over his drizzling tip while you softly suck.

Five’s body shudders and you respond by moving your hand up his length, jerking him a few times before pressing your thumb gently but firmly against the underside of his shaft where your mouth is popping on and off.

Sudden waves of pleasure hit him, followed by shaky breaths as his fingers tighten their grip on you. Taking complete control of your movements again, Five forces your head down, pushing your lips sliding along all the way to his pubic bone, only pulling your head up again so he can fuck into your throat all over again.

It’s not like he didn’t warn you or give you an out. Still, there’s no denying he isn’t getting a sick sort of pleasure from your tears, wet gags, and each and every spasm of your throat, and there is no way he isn’t enjoying the sound of your desperate whines and moans.

You want this as much as he does and you are not tapping out, but your fingers are digging into his thighs as your eyes roll back so far in your head that Five is sure your brain must be turning off because he just skewered it.

Loving every second of dominating you by roughly fucking your face so hard he is making it impossible for you to think, Five pays you back for doing so good by not holding in his deep moans and low grunts of euphoria, but all too quickly he has to stop, or it will be over, and he doesn’t want that at all.

As his hips slow and pull away, your swollen lips gently popped off him. 

Your brows furrow upwards as you watch Five with a needy expression. Feeling like he can get away with it, he taps your chin with the end of his cock, spreading the drips of drool that you can’t help but have after taking him that long and hard. 

Five smiles down at you, a wickedly charming sort of look spreading across his face as he watches you wordlessly begging. He tightens his grip on the back of your head.

“God, you are fucking beautiful,” he breathes, then suddenly yanks your hair back, forcing you to crane your neck back. “I can’t wait to paint your face.”

After a few more taps to your waiting tongue, Five swiftly brings you down on him again, immediately causing you to gag. The sound of your body fighting him and the feel of your moans buzzing against him as you twitch and repeatedly try to swallow, all have him close to the edge again, but he can’t stop now even if he wanted to.

Soon, his rhythm becomes even more aggressive as he takes your head in both hands, slamming his cock into your mouth while griding the back of your throat against his tip before pulling off, only to repeat the process.

“You really wanted my dick, didn’t you?” Five breathlessly sputters as he throws his head back and his pale green eyes disappear under his heavy eyelids.

Inevitably his brutal pattern has become more erratic. Eventually, Five pulls back, fully pulling out. His hand that was tangled in the strands of your hair is moved to your puffy lips instead.

Jerking your chin up with his free hand, he urgently askes, “Do you think you can swallow all of it?”

You eagerly nod.

With an air of desperation coming out of him, Five strokes himself needily, bringing himself closer and closer as you watch in anticipation, your mouth open and tongue out.

With a few sharp inhales, Five’s body begins to tremor, and his legs begin to feel like they could give out on him. One of his heels squeaks on the floor as he drives himself forward, intent on delivering. 

A long string of rough groans fall from Five's gaped lips as you flinch and reactively shut your eyes in response to the pearls of white falling over your waiting tongue.

Having plenty of pent-up sexual tension, not to mention a lifetime of being deprived of anything to this level of sexual eroticism, Five’s superpowered youthfully charged load repeatedly spurts out of him in heavy ropes, just like it always does.

You swallow and swallow, trying to keep up, but even though you are, Five deliberately pulls back, letting the last of his cum land across your flushed cheeks, some even dripping down, landing on your breathless body.

"Oh fuck," he gasps with his hand clasped around his shaft. His angry grip keeps moving but much more slowly as it passes over his length while he rides the last incredible waves of his release.

His crisp white dress shirt moves up and down, faster than normal as he looks down at the mess he’d made of you.

“Such a good job for daddy,” he dizzily breathes before coming down to kiss your lips, his come covering them not at all stopping him. As his hands cradle your head, he breaks away just long enough to say, "I fucking love you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There we have it people…..

🎶-Now I know my ABC’s…and you guys got to get inside’s Five’s pervy head with me. 🎶

Link to my other Tumblr story/art posts

Link to My Five Centric Master List

Link to visit me directly on A03N

[vivwritesfics]

Fake It Till You Make It

Chapter Four - Princess And Her Prince

The Princess of Monaco is wild and out of control. She needs to stop being in the tabloids for all the wrong reasons. Charles Leclerc has had a spot of bad press since his very public break up. He needs some good PR. What better way to fix their problems than to pair them up?

2K

Series Masterlist

Princess And Her Prince

Dear readers,

We at the Monaco Press would like to apologise for out earlier comments, hinting that Princess Y/N could have possibly been dating Fernando Alonso, driver for the Aston Martin F1 team. 

It seemed that, just last night, the party princess was attending dinner with none other than our very own, Charles Leclerc. The two aren't known to be friends, but the Ferrari driver is known to have a friendship with Prince Henri. 

Ever since the pictures of the princess and her possible beau were released, many fans have been theorising as to what is going on. Many suspect that this was all set up by Prince Henri himself. We are all aware just how much the Prince loves the five time race winner. 

But here at the Monaco Press, we are thinking a little deeper than that. It is no secret that Princess Y/N could use some good PR. And what better way to get good PR than to date the people's Prince?

Henri exhaled as he threw the newspaper down. "I'm starting to really hate the Monaco Press," he muttered to himself as he rubbed his temples. 

There was little more he could do but parade them through the streets in a golden carriage. 

He had seen the pictures leaked of she and Charles having dinner. Even he believed they were in love and he had set the entire thing up. All he could do was wait and see what happened.

***

Ever since the pictures of her and Charles had been released, along with that damn article from the Monaco Press, her group chat had been going crazy. Her friends couldn't quite believe what they were seeing 

Party Paupers 🎉🎉

Luc: 

YOU SLY BASTARD 

Amelie: 

How tf did you pull Charles Leclerc?

Luc: 

I have never been more jealous of you

On a side note, what does he see in you?

Y/N:

Wdym I'm a catch

But also

Hole in the wall tonight?

I beg 

Luc:

only if you bring your new boyf

The hole in the wall was a little, lesser known bar in Monaco. It was the perfect place for the party princess and her friends to just chill out.

She got herself ready, dressed down in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, and headed out to the hole in the wall.

As usual, she was the first one there. The owner slid her usual drink towards her. "Haven't seen you in a while," he said as he cleaned glasses. She didn't doubt that he'd read the tabloid about her, knew what she had been up to.

She shrugged her shoulders and sipped her drink. "You know how life is," she said.

She finished her first drink by the time Luc came into the bar. He pushed his dark hair out of his blue eyes and strode towards her. "Tell me everything," he said as he sat in the seat beside her and ordered a drink.

"There's nothing to tell." Her drink was filled up and she downed it. "We met at the Grand Prix, he asked me out and... here we are." She finished her second gin and tonic and placed it down onto the bar. It was quickly filled up again. "When are Amélie and Bea getting here?" She asked

Luc shrugged his shoulders, but it was clear he didn't care about their whereabouts. "So, are you and Charles going steady now? Could you invite him here?"

"Luc, I just want to have a drink in peace," she groaned.

But then, Amélie and Bea walked into the bar. "Thank God," she muttered under her breath, ordering a beer instead of gin.

But Amélie and Bea were as determined to annoy her as Luc was. "He doesn't have our approval yet," they said the minute they sat down. "We need to hit him."

Her head hit the bar and she groaned. "You guys are kidding," she said as she straightened herself up and sipped her beer. "You can't meet him."

"Yeah, we can."

"We must!"

One drink later and she had her phone out, texting Charles. They had hardly texted each other since their date, just said hello to ensure they had each others phone numbers.

She sent him a quick text and slipped her phone into her pocket, not expecting any reply.

Charles hadn't yet left Monaco. In just a day he'd be leaving, heading off for the next Grand Prix. While he'd been in Monaco he'd seen his family, kept up with his training, and gone on a date with a princess.

It had exhausted him. For the entire day he sat at his piano, ignoring his phone as he just messed around. Soft melodies filled his apartment.

In the evening, Charles finally checked his phone. He scrolled through his notifications, ignoring most of them until he got to his text messages.

He answered his mother, his brother and Prince Henri. He scrolled through the rest of his messages until he got to her.

Her. Why was she texting him? Sure, they had exchanged numbers, but Charles hadn't expected her to use it unless she wanted to set something up for the tabloids.

Princess Y/N:

Waaaant to meef Mr atc the holg in the f wall,

*?

Charles couldn't stop the surprised laugh that left his lips. He quickly typed out a reply and wandered into his bedroom to get dressed.

Charles Leclerc:

I'll be there in ten x

He got dressed as quickly as he could. In all of his years of living in Monaco, Charles had never heard of the hole in the wall. He searched for it on Google maps, but even that wasn't entirely clear.

He found himself parking his car anywhere and wandering down a street that didn't feel entirely safe. Halfway down the street (it was really more of an alleyway), there was a door with a beaten up and battered sign. The Hole In The Wall.

He could hear all of the noise as he pushed open the door. But, the minute he stepped into the bar.

Charles looked around, looking for any sign of the princess, but bewildered faces stared back at him. "Um... hello," he said and offered a wave.

"HE'S REAL!" Came a shout from the left of the bar.

So, that was the direction he started in. Charles walked past the bar until he found a small group of people.

Two girls stared at him, but not in the way girls usually stared at him. It was more like they were scrutinising him as they stepped to the side to reveal her.

There she was, on a bar stood with an empty drink in her hands. She laughed as she leaned against a boy with dark hair. "I was almost 110% sure nobody was going to show up. Or Henri would have dragged you out again."

Charles looked at the guy with a frown. Was this her boyfriend? Why not at least fake date this man?

"What can I get you, Charlie?" She asked him, her words slurring together.

Charlie. He froze up at that. It was rare he'd let anybody call him Charlie, and he certainly didn't think he and Y/N were on that level, yet.

He shook his head. "Let me buy you a drink, princess."

At that, she fell quiet, her expression turning from a smile to a glare. "Forget it," she muttered under her breath, turning her attention back to her friend.

Charles stood there somewhat awkwardly while the two of them conversed. And then there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned quickly, flattening himself against the bar as he looked at the two girls.

"So, you're this Charles she's been talking about," one of them said.

"What makes you think you're good enough for our Y/N?" The other asked.

Charles wasn't entirely sure how to answer. But it confirmed one thing for him, that his friends didn't know it was all fake. "I... uh, I think she's really great," he said, drumming his fingers against the bar. "She's fun, she's pretty and she's sharp."

But still, her friends glared. "You're way in over your head," the first said. She let out a dry laugh and shook her head, returning to her drink.

For the next few minutes, things were uncomfortable. Charles stood there, watching the girls to the left and the pair to his right. He watched as the man kissed the princess's head and turned his attention to Charles.

"Smoke break," he said, pulling the carton of cigarettes from his pocket. He grabbed Charles arm and pulled him out of the bar.

Charles spared one look at the princess, but she turned away, still wearing a scowl.

Once outside, the man leaned against the wall and lit his cigarette. "Want one?" He asked, offering the pack to Charles. But he shook his head. "Ah, right. You're a high performance athlete, and all that." He placed his cigarette between his lips and offered his hand to Charles. "I'm Luc."

"Charles." But Luc definitely already knew that.

Luc drew in a breath, bringing the smoke to his lungs before he exhaled. "You want a bit of advice for the princess" He asked, but Charles was pretty sure he wasn't going to get a choice in the matter. "She hates who she is. She hates being a princess so maybe stop reminding her of it."

"I... thanks," he said, leaning beside him on the wall.

But Luc wasn't finished. "She must like you," he said. "Or she never would have introduced you to us." He tapped the ash from his cigarette and placed it back between his lips. "You can go now."

Charles did just that. He thanked Luc once again and headed back inside the bar. Immediately he walked over to the bar. "Gin and tonic, please," he said to the girl behind the bar. She took a moment to make it and then passed it to him.

He picked it up and walked it over to the prince- Y/N. He walked it over to her and placed it down in front of her. "A peace offering," he said.

She picked it up and sipped, all while staring at him. When she finished it in four large gulps and placed it down, she smiled. "Now you know what not to do."

She was too drunk for proper conversation, Charles realised as she leaned against him. But he still tried. He'd get her home soon enough. "I've got a question," he said and she looked up at him. "Your friend Luc, why doesn't Henri have you 'date' him?" He asked quietly.

Suddenly she was laughing, a laugh that echoed around the hole in the wall. "Charles," she managed through her laugh. "Charlie. He's famously gay."

Charles couldn't help it as his cheeks reddened. He had no idea who Luc Sinclair was.

Conversation flowed somewhat easily. But, before he knew it, he had his arm around her waist, her arm around his neck, as he carried her out to the car. "You're wasted," he said as he pulled open the car door and helped her into the seat.

She giggled as she looked up at him. "Get used to it if you're gonna be dating me," she said and Charles shut the door.

For the entire ride to her apartment, she fiddled with the radio. But Charles didn't much mind.

When they got to her building, she climbed out of the car and began stumbling towards the lobby doors. Charles was quick to follow, wrapping his arm around her to keep her upright. "What're you doing?" She asked, stopping in front of the doors.

"Helping you up to your apartment," he answered.

She shook her head. "You can't see my apartment."

Charles pulled open the lobby door and helped her inside. "No, Charles," she moaned as he led her to the elevator. "It's all messy and not very princess like at all."

Well, Charles didn't much care about that.

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[sxtaep]

WILD THOUGHTS - JJK

sometimes, being an esteemed photographer had its ups and downs. this time, it was a bit of both.

pairing — jungkook x female reader

genre — smut, angst

word count — 1.7k

warnings/tags — photographer!jk x spoilt!reader, dom!jk, sub!reader (implied), swearing/cursing, insults, praise, bros got the biggest boner in public, male masturbation, jk is big mean, degradation, oral (implied m receiving), mentions of pussy eating, mentions of unprotected sex, mentions of cumshots/creampies

a/n: this was something i was going to write a while ago, with the brains of @mercurygguk but i figured i’d keep it short and simple for the sake of ramadan 😭

btw!! this isn’t my last post before ramadan, i have another post scheduled to automatically post next month 🥳

hope everyone has a blessed month! 💗

Oh, the absolute fucking nerve you had to walk into his studio and cause a commotion, boss around his employees like you owned the place.

His week had been utter hell, running from one studio to the other, taking photos of his models but being back at his usual studio, Jungkook thought he could have a relaxed session with you.

Yeah, he did his research on you just to see what he was getting himself into and honestly, he wasn’t surprised.

Upon entering your name into the search engine, before your wiki page even came up, his screen was plastered with tons of articles about you, and they were nothing to be proud of.

‘Spoilt brat.’

‘Rude.’

‘Disrespectful.’

The list went on.

That was when he discovered you were handed this modelling opportunity because of the high status your parents held among designer brands, being the most sought after celebrities.

Your mother pulled a few strings and here you were.

With a bit of back and forth arguing, Jungkook instructed you to head to the dressing room with his assistant to get you ready for the shoot and surprisingly, you obeyed.

It wasn’t long before you stepped out onto the set, a silk robe shielding your body as his assistant did some final touch-ups on you.

The silence on set was deafening as you pulled off the robe, donned in a white lace bra and a thong, with the addition of a short lace skirt that barely covered your most intimate parts.

Now don’t get him wrong, Jungkook had come across thousands of models, all beautiful in their own way, and never affected by them, but something about you… your curves straining against the tight bands of the undergarments, tits sitting perfectly within the confines of your bra…

He fucking loved it.

It was such a shame you had the desired genes for this industry, but fucking hell, your personality made him wanna throw a brick at your face.

You were completely unaware of the commotion stirring within him, going about as usual and climbing onto the bed on set and ignoring the unwarranted stares you were receiving from everyone, “How do you want me?”

It takes Jungkook a couple seconds to gather himself before instructing you to lie on your stomach and lean on your forearms, giving you the freedom to position your hands as you please.

“Give me sexy, and seductive, I’m sure you’ll have no trouble with that,” he says, bringing the camera up to his eye without realising what he’d just said.

You promptly ignore him, trying to contain the little bubble of excitement building in your stomach as you posed, hands gracing your face, fingers occasionally grazing your jawline.

Jungkook hums in approval, taking a couple more snaps and putting you in different positions before instructing you further, “Good, now take the skirt off and lie on your back,” he says, pulling the camera away from his face to gaze down at you.

You sit up on your knees, unbuttoning the skirt from the waist band and pulling it off, handing it too him and now being extremely aware of how exposed you were.

This is what it meant modelling for a lingerie brand; exposed skin and provocative photos.

Despite how you felt, you laid back on the bed, bringing one leg up to a slight bend as you threw your arms above your head, face turned to the side with your eyes closed as Jungkook snapped away, moving around you to capture every perfect angle.

All you could hear from him was praise and validation, the occasional ‘good girl’ slipping from his lips. You usually didn’t care for validation, knowing you were good at everything, but Jungkook… There was something about that asshole that made your skin crawl with goosebumps and you were certain he must’ve noticed.

And he did notice, being on his knees next to you, but he assumed it was due to the cold so didn’t comment on it. He was far more focused on capturing every angle possible because he wanted to wrap this up asap.

He rises up to his feet again, “Okay, on your hands and knees for me.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, but you don’t have time to process his words already being on a tight schedule. You did as told, standing on all fours on the bed, your spine arching perfectly and ass raised in the air slightly.

Jungkook bites back a smile, eyeing your current state as he stood before you.

Now would be a good time to shut you up with his cock.

He hides his face with the large camera, adjusting the lens to pick up everything from your perfectly raised ass peeking out behind your head, the sensual lighting drawing in the shadows along your body, accentuating your curves.

He’d be lying if he said his dick didn’t jump at the sight.

You were completely unaware of the affect your body had on him, continuing your job as expected and after a solid 2 hours, Jungkook called everything a wrap.

He sets his camera down on and extends his hand out to help you off the bed, his hand burning upon holding yours, “You’re free to leave, I’ll be in contact with you in the next couple days to discuss what comes next,” he tells you, dropping your hand and dismissing you rather quickly as you tried to stand up straight.

“Have a good night, Miss L/N.”

He didn’t wanna be in your presence any longer, nor did he wanna deal with your incessant complaining, when the boner in his pants was bound to burst any minute now.

You don’t even get a chance to open your mouth before he’s out the door, wondering why he was in a rush.

Why was he in a rush?

Because the moment he jumped into his car, driving out onto the streets, his boner was doing up a madness; relentlessly straining against his trousers as he gripped harshly onto the steering wheel.

He replays the moment he was spotting you in that vulnerable position; ass up, face down, the seamless arch of your spine adding a hint of elegance and sweetness to your appearance, though you were the complete opposite.

Rude and vile.

Taking photos of you from behind, your barely clothed cunt on display, sitting snug against the flimsy material.

Just one small movement of shifting your thong to the side and he could be burying his face in your pussy, eating you out to his desires—

“Fuck!” Jungkook slams his fist against the wheel, using his free hand to palm his throbbing cock for some relief.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.

He was clearly wound up and full of sexual frustration after that shoot and it was unknown to him why this occurred so easily and why you of all people, had to be the cause.

Within a matter of minutes, Jungkook was pulling into his apartment garage, climbing out of his car and locking the door, using his bag as a shield to hide his erection from anyone he walks past.

He takes the elevator up to his penthouse suite, unlocking the door with a shaky hand and entering, dropping his bag to the floor and slamming the door shut behind him.

Good thing he was alone, he didn’t know if he was angry or horny right now, pacing up and down the room and pinching the bridge of his nose.

Maybe he was both.

He shouldn’t.

He really shouldn’t…

Fuck it, he could deal with the consequences later.

Jungkook throws himself on the couch, slouched back and thighs spread apart. Like this, his boner looked far bigger than he thought which made him wonder if anyone within distance from the garage and the building actually noticed it.

He removes the buttons of his shirt, leaving it open to give himself some air before reaches down to pull his pants off along with his boxers, letting his hardened cock slap against his abdomen, aching for a girl it shouldn’t.

He doesn’t waste another minute, wrapping a firm hand around the base of his cock, pumping himself up and down slowly as his head falls back against the couch.

“Shit…” he grits, bucking his hips up into his fist to get himself off, spreading the small beads of precum at his tip along the entirety of his cock.

Jungkook’s mind wanders far, conjuring up the sinful image of you riding him, your sweet little pussy clutching onto his cock like a tight glove and perfectly rounded tits bouncing in his face.

“Fucking hell…” he curses under his breath, using his free hand to massage his balls, squeezing and pulling at them for something more. He shook his head, tightening his grip, “That fucking bitch…” he seethes, picking up the pace as his thighs twitched, “How dare she do this to me…”

With a raspy moan, he continues to think about you, your plush lips wrapped around his cock, mouth taking him whole as he uses one hand to grasp at your skull, pushing your head further down till the tip of your nose was brushing against him.

He imagines you touching yourself with your mouth stuffed full of his cock, unable to wait like a desperate bitch.

Jungkook would do everything he could to hurt you in all the right ways; using you as his personal fleshlight, his very own cumdump who’d be there for him on-call because spoilt brats like you didn’t deserve the luxury of a comfort fuck.

No, spoilt girls like you deserved to be treated like whores; broken down into nothing because that’s what they deserve.

Maybe that would teach you a lesson; you can’t always get what you want.

“Gonna give her a piece of my mind,” he tells himself between panting breaths, stroking his hard cock and pushing himself closer to his orgasm.

He was so close.

The undying urge he had to paint your face with his cum, splay your tits white and bury himself balls deep in your pussy till you drained him of every last drop—

And that did it.

Thick ropes of cum were landing on his lap, all over his hands, some of it dripping down the base of his cock and he jerked himself off slowly, getting the last of what he could before letting go with a heavy sigh.

His thighs had tensed up and shirt all creased from the lack of care he took while sitting, and it was now when he realised he got off to you.

Little did he know, you were doing the exact same thing, touching yourself to the thought of him.

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[hypnoneghoul]

slides across the table

so remember that alpha/Omega drabble,,. :3

the drabble in question

Omega knows what his mate wants even before Alpha glues himself to his side to whisper filth into the quintessence ghoul’s ear.

“Want you to take me again,” he purrs.

Omega wastes no time. He smirks and laces his fingers with Alpha’s to drag him to their nest. He tuts and stops the fire ghoul when he moves to crawl to the middle of the huge bed, though.

Right. Protection.

Not that kind of protection, they don’t need it. It’s only that their bedding was too expensive for it to be ruined. They’ve got special equipment for times like this.

But soon enough Alpha is naked and sprawled out on the bed; Omega hovering over him with a smirk on his face.

“Ready, my wildfire?” he asks despite knowing the answer. Alpha has been ready since way before he even came to his mate to ask for it.

“Yeah,” he breathes out anyway and Omega’s quintessence, that’s been waiting to be released, begins to flow into the fire ghoul’s body. Omega weaves it into Alpha’s nerves and veins and slowly overtakes with it, but not in the way he usually does.

No, the goal is not to numb his mate’s mind. It’s to convince his entire body that he has to get wet and loose.

Despite Alpha actually loving having Omega in his cunt, they don’t indulge in that specific act very often. The fire ghoul’s element and the testosterone he’s been taking for years now make him so dry and tight it hurts even with good lube—especially considering how well endowed Omega is.

They have found a solution, though—it took them a while, but they did, and now from time to time Alpha will let Omega take full control of his body and make him all open for his cock.

And that’s exactly what he is doing right now.

The fire ghoul sighs at the familiar and pleasant tingle of his mate’s quintessence spreading inside him. He can’t wait for something else to be spreading inside him, though.

“There, there,” Omega mutters with a proud smile on his face. His cock is hanging heavily between his legs already, kicking at each and every one of Alpha’s soft grunts. He extends one hand and brings it to his mate’s cunt; he spreads his fold with his thick fingers and hums in approval at how wet he already is. “I’d say you’re at a…half water ghoul level.”

Alpha scoffs at Omega’s poor attempt at making a joke and spreads his legs a little further. The quintessence ghoul pours some more magic into him before he dares to slip a finger inside.

“Good?”

Alpha nods. “Yeah, Megs, you can—you can go for two.”

Omega letts out a low rumble and obliges, pulling back and sinking two fingers inside with very little resistance. It’s going well today.

He crooks the digits to pet that one spot inside of his mate that drives both of them wild and earns himself a groan in return. The quintessence ghoul starts to push in and out, slowly working Alpha’s cunt more and more open.

“S’fucking good,” he mumbles with his head thrown back in pleasure. “Do more.”

“Demanding,” Omega scoffs but obeys his mate’s humble request. He adds a finger and continues to finger him until, inevitably, Alpha asks for more.

“Megaaa,” he whines—purposefully dramatic, “gimme your cock, ‘m ready.”

“I know you are, wildfire,” he chuckles. “I did that.”

“Old prick,” Alpha mutters under his breath; unable to keep himself from smiling.

They share a few more giggles—as they do—but finally, the quintessence ghoul hooks Alpha’s legs over his hips and presses the tip of his cock against his hole.

“I could always just–” Omega threatens, pulling his magic back the tiniest amount. His mate makes the most offended face ever and he can’t help but laugh, “Fine, fine.”

“Yeah,” Alpha breathes out anyway—again—and Omega pushes in. Slowly and gently, not breaking eye contact with his mate for even a split second, until their hips meet. Omega leans over the fire ghoul and kisses some more quintessence into him as he starts to move; slow at first, but speeding up as Alpha gets more comfortable, until he’s all but fucking his brains out.

“Ready, my wildfire?” he asks—again—despite knowing the answer—again.

It never takes long for either of them to cum when they do this. Alpha doesn’t even need additional stimulation—his mate’s cock and magic inside him is more than enough to bring him to the edge and eventually push him over it, too.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck–” he babbles as he gets close before it cuts off and turns into a low groan when Omega makes him cum. The quintessence ghoul lets out a high pitched and feminine—and frankly embarrassing—moan as Alpha’s hot and wet cunt squeezes his cock and it’s barely a second more before he spills deep inside him.

With last dregs of brain power Omega sends one more spark of quintessence into his mate and the next thing he feels is impossibly more wetness around his cock and spilling down his thighs. He wills his eyes to focus on Alpha’s own blown ones and he sees the spark of euphoria in his fiery irises. 

Omega all but collapses on top of the fire ghoul once he gets down from his high, pressing him into the mattress. 

“How’r’you’feelin’?” he mumbles into Alpha’s neck. The other tries to reply but it’s muffled against Omega’s own shoulder. “What?”

They both burst out laughing.

“I said–” the fire ghoul leans back to free his mouth, “mmm jizz.”

[wth234]

Priest Nanami

You were there every morning at 9am sitting in the front pew right in front of the podium ready for mass. It wasn’t like you to attend mass this often but after stumbling in one day, seeking some sort of salvation and placing your gaze upon the priest, you knew there was a god.

The members were mostly elderly with some young families mixed in. Everyone held up the Father in high regards thanks to his powerful sermons and genuine generosity towards the community. He seems to have a strong aura enforced by his strong beliefs that he successfully displayed each Sunday.

Today you knew it was time to confess. Father had preached today to do what is right in the eyes of the Lord. He stated “I will not look with approval on anything that is vile. I hate what faithless people do; I will have no part in it.”

You’ve never felt more guilty. You knew showing up wasn’t to seek salvation anymore, it was just to ogle him and let your mind run. Even though he was wearing the cassock, you could tell he was well built by the way it hung off his shoulders. Always with a stoic expression and completely modesty dressed. You’d hate to admit that that was what turned you on the most. Your imagination ran wild thinking about what his body looked under and what type of expression would he make if he were on top of you. Admittedly, you wanted his attention. You’d wear modest clothes that hugged you body seductively and when you went to take bread, you’d always looked him in the eyes as the placed it in your mouth. Each time he’d sharply inhale and avert his gaze. Through service it seems impossible to hide your true intentions. On the outside, you’d seem to be attentive to what the Father peached, yet you always say with your legs interlocked trying to hide that sensation.

It was time to confess these lewed thoughts. Today after mass you went to the confession box. You waited to the end until you were sure it was just him & you left.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. This is the first time I’ve come to confessed myself. ”

“Speak child and let me help you wash away your sins.”

You wavered, did you really want to tell him your sinful thoughts about him? You could see his silhouette through the screen and he knew it was you by the sound of your voice.

With a shaky voice, you confess “I have been having troublesome thoughts about a certain well respected man.”

“He is older than me and lives by the word of God and every time I see him, I feel an arousal I can’t contain.”

You could see his outline stiffen up at the words you spoke. Father replied, “Confess, what makes up these thoughts?”

“I let my imagination run and think of how his stoic expression and serious demeanor would change if we were in bed.”

On the other side, Father knew where this was heading, he knew you were taking bout him. He had noticed your lustful gaze, your wandering eyes as if you tried to see through his godly robes. Admittedly, he looked you with the same gaze. He loved how your dresses hugged your chest and how they draped off you ass. It was modest clothing and it wasn’t your fault they flattered your curves. At home he’d think of you and get hard yet he’d always resist the temptation but today how could he, you were right besides him confessing your sinful mind.

He could feel the blood start to flow. With every lust filled word coming out your mouth, how you wanted to caress “this man’s” face and blond hair, see his body uncovered, run your touch up and down his back, chest, stomach, legs, everywhere and make him moan. Oh, he could only imagine how your touch would feel as the threw his head backing taking a deep breath. Then you admitted to acting on these thought and touching yourself. How his serious manner and restrained gaze along with your imagination were enough to drive you over the edge.

He could hold it in anymore he palmed himself through his robes as you spoke. He wanted nothing more than to touch himself freely then and there but he knew at least his outline could be seen through the other side & he held back. Each word out your mouth riled him up even more. Your guilt made you tear up and hearing you cry turned him on even more.

What a dirty priest. He’d become devoted to God as en effort to set aside earthly desires yet her he was, shamelessly mastrubating to a sinners confession.

You declared what you’d always imagined. How his hands would run roughly wild across your body fondling every inch as he placed his body weight on you while he kissed your ears and neck. All this while shamelessly grinding against you.

Even thought now he was doing way more that palming himself, his stiffness was unbearable. It was like you were describing a sex scene and him and you staring in it and that was exactly what it was. With a tight grip he stroked himself to your voice as he bit his lip to keep quiet yet had already noticed his hastened breathing.

His silhouette was obvious. You could see everything as you spoke and purposely provoked him even more. This man had lost all restraint and you wanted to see how far you could take it thank to you.

He thought of how soft your body must feel, how small you’d look under him, and easily he could grab your hips and slam himself inside you. He wanted to pin you down to the bed and stare at how your chest would move with his stroke and how your voice would moan in pleasure his name. He wanted to have you in a mating press placing his full weight on you with every thrust as he’d shut your voice with a deep kiss and have you moaning in his mouth instead.

He could hold it in anymore and made a mess of his robes.

“Father?” You called out as you finished blatantly telling him you desires. He hadn’t said anything in a while.

In a shaken voice he replied with an assigning a penance and dismissing you. He needed to free himself from you. You had corrupted him yet he looked forward to seeing you again next Sunday.

[faghubby]

Family help

"Paul, Judy tells me you wear panties" Kelly giggled. Kelly was my sister in law. I had been married to Judy for 15 years. For the last 5 Judy has controlled our marriage and cuckold me for most of it. I didn't answer Kelly I just stared at my shoes.

"Don't worry it can be our secret, just like how John's truck got detailed. She handed me a bucket full of car cleaning material. I just took it and went to clean my brother in laws truck. I wondered what else Judy had told her sister. As I cleaned the truck. I was at it for about 2 hours when Kelly came out with a glass of tea.

"Judy was right you do nice work. Is it true you did her boyfriends car wearing only a thong" Kelly asked. I just nodded. "Well I am sure my neighbors would complain about that" she laughed taking my glass she went back inside.

"Judy called says she is spending the night with Malcolm?" Kelly smiled. "Since John won't be home till Monday. I have some things you can do around here for me" Kelly smiled. "First I am curious. I want to see" she smiled and motioned for me to strip. I knew if I argued she would tell Judy. So I stripped quickly I stood before my sister in law. Wearing only a pink lace thong. The tannins from a bikini where obvious on my chest. Having returned from vacation only a week ago. Kelly wore a sundress and sat on a stool she spread her legs and lifted her dress to reveal she wore no panties. Her well trimmed red bush glistening she was already excited.

"Show me what Judy brags about" she said.

" I shouldn't not without Judy permission " I told her. She showed me her text messages from Judy. Judy had given her permission to use me however she liked. I knelt and buried my head between my sister in-laws thighs she went wild riding my face. I soon found myself on my back as Kelly rode my face. She came over and over loudly.

"I forgot how much I love oral" Kelly laughed catching her breath.

"John doesn't do that" she told me. With a huge smile. She pulled my thong toward and giggled.

"That's why the tounge is so good" she patted my 4 inch erection.

"Get dressed you have work to do" Kelly told me. I did as she took me upstairs to my nephews room. It was a disaster. It even smelled bad.

"Kelly assures me you deep clean. I want this room perfect" She told me. And left me alone. I set to work stripping the bed, curtains and all dirty clothes. I started the laundry and went to work. As I started got to the closet I discovered several old penthouse magazines. I set them on the bed not sure what Kelly wanted me to do with them. As soon as I did Kelly came to check on me. She picked one up,

"Did you have girlie magazines under your bed at 15? Or from what I hear where they more playgirl?"Kelly teased.

"Moms lingerie catalogs" I responded.

"These are old must be John's" Kelly commented. She then stopped.

"Are you allowed to look at these dirty magazines?" Kelly asked.

"Judy doesn't approve of them" I responded.

"Are you allowed to look at naked woman at all?" Kelly asked.

"No" I responded.

"Bur you saw my pussy earlier" Kelly said. I just looked at the floor.

"What would happen if I told my sister" she asked.

"Any number of punishment" I told her.

"Really? Does she spank you?" She asked.

"Sometimes" I told her.

"When you're done I have another chore for you" Kelly left me. I found Kelly in her room. She spread her legs again on the bed.

"I got so excited thinking about you being spanked" she told me like she needed a reason for me to go down on her again, she saw quieter this time but spuurted all over my face when I surprised her by sticking two fingers in her as I sucked her clit.

"I have never" she was embarrassed looking at my face covered in her juices. Then said "Does Stacy?" She asked. I just nodded. And she smiled. I did a few more chores before Stacy came and picked me up. Kelly wanted to talk but she could tell Stacy was in a hurry. As soon as we where in the car.

"I am leaking" Stacy told me. She put on cruise control and I parted her legs and licked at least her lovers cum that was leaking out. When we got home I did a though job of cleaning her up.

The next morning I was informed I was spending the day at my mother in laws house. As Stacy dropped me off again. Diane had figured out my submissive nature early on.

"Mom, Paul is very skilled at all types of housework. No need to just make him clean the garage" she told me. But that's exactly what Diane had me do. She set me to work. Clean out all her husband's things. Donate, sell, or just throw away. I went to work. And was making lots of progress. I moved an old box out to the driveway. When Diane opened it find my father in-laws old porn stash. Videos and magazines most very tame by today's standards.

"I don't want this " Diane said " well you can have it Paul" she told me.

"Stacy would never allow that" I told her.

"Of course but even man has his stash I guess you call it" she laughed

"No, Stacy would go ballistic" I informed her. Diane stopped me.

"Stacy controls alot of what you do doesn't she?" Diane asked.

"I think you should talk to her about this" I said feeling uncomfortable.

"Paul, I know she has had lovers. But you seem to have worked thru it" Diane said making me sit and talk.

"Tell me, just between us if you like" Diane told me. Holding my hand.

"We have a different type of marriage is all. It makes us both very happy" I told her.

"Are you saying she knows you wear her underwear, I don't mean to embarrass you I just well you bent over" Diane was the one blushing. To make her feel better I explained how Stacy cuckolds me and I serve her. Diane was fascinated and we talked for over an hour.

Then she made a comment

"It's been years since I have had any pleasure that way" she mumbled I don't think she meant to say it out loud.

"Would you like me to help you?" I offered sincerely. I loved this woman. I reached over and kissed her. She didn't pull away.

"I can't I mean, you can't see me naked it's too wierd" she blushed like a schoolgirl. I got up went out to one of the boxes in the garage it had a hand massage thing some one had given her she never opened. I ripped it open and changed the batteries.

"Trust me" I asked I parted her legs and held the muscle massage against her crotch

"Ohhh" she giggled. "Wait she stood and drooped her shorts. She wore cotton granny panties. And already a wet spot appeared I used the massager to tease her. And rather quickly she bit her lio and wimpered as an orgasm hit her. She pulled at my shorts and again saw my pink panties.

"OH I didn't realize, it's not very big is it" she tried to say it gently. I didn't answer. But Diane took the massager and held it against my panties. I came very quickly. Making a mess in my panties.

"I am glad you and Stacy are happy. Even if you are a little girlie boi." Diane told me. I helped her by a vibrator online. Then after we cleaned our selves up. We finished in the garage. Stacy picked me up. Diane showed her the box of old porn from her dad.

"Seems Paul finds everyone's dirty secrets." Stacy laughed.

"Well at least he doesn't need this" Diane flashed me a smile.

"Can't help finding smut where ever you go can you" Stacy laughed at me when we got in the car.

Having neglected our house for two days. I spent the next few days getting it to Stacy's standards.

Stacy continued to expose me to family and friends by loaning me out, or little comments. Soon it seemed everyone knew something if not everything. I spent a day every two weeks at Kelly's house. Cleaning but also making her scream. Diane and I became more like friends. But we discussed everything from sex to recipes over tea. Or as I washed her windows.

Some of our friends disappeared from our life. And some got closer. The couple next door invited Stacy over for an evening she returned in the morning, While I spent the night scrubbing the basement floor.

The more she exposed me the more I was denied any attention from her. If I wasn't man enough to stop her. Then certainly I wasn't man enough for her. She told me. Offering to let me start wearing a dress.

"I am sure there are lots of men that will love fuckingthat ass of yours" Stacy told me.

[l-in-the-light]

Trafalgar Law and his rare friendships (Law and closeness series part 4)

Let's venture into less explored territory. And we will start with no one else but our beloved Kinemon!

They met at Punk Hazard, Kinemon doing some rampage and Law was sent by Caesar to stop him. At first he cut him up into three pieces apparently, but I think Kin is colorizing here a lot.

Because let's take a look at his awesome feats. He might be cut into pieces, but he's still a decent threat despite that! I think Law started by cutting Kinemon in half, then got surprised he still tried to fight him, and then he cut off his head as well only to realize that even the head alone is probably bouncing around as well! So he caught it, but in the meantime the legs already run somewhere else and the torso escaped Law on his way back to lab somehow which is where Brook finds it later. And Law was probably like "screw it, I don't have time for this" and left it be for now. But I bet it wasn't "letting his torso to rot, and feed legs to wild beasts" like Kinemon claims. After all his legs turned out to be just fine lol. And we know by now that Kin's legs just run off on their own aimlessly, so this is probably what actually happened.

And this is how Strawhats find Kin. I guess Kinemon was still causing a lot of trouble despite being only a head. Maybe he tried to bite Law? Anyway, he must have been really *mad* to cut him up into that many tiny pieces. I think Kinemon was behaving like a little shit. It's important to mention Law never did that to anyone else before.

And he attempts to do the same to Tashigi who is also trying to bounce around while being cut in half.

Yeah, Kinemon and Law started off on a great note there. But I think Kin earned Law's respect for that, because this is probably what Kin shouted at him while being cut into smaller and smaller pieces:

And Law shoved his head into some closed off room, instead of giving it to Caesar. I think he was trying to spare him and hoping he can restore him back later on.

As soon as they both end up on Strawhats ship, Kinemon already treats Law with respect! It's no longer "that warlord" but "Law-dono".

It seems that despite what Kinemon says, Law actually earned his respect back there already. He even tried to catch his name or the title to know who he is.

It's so sweet he's already asking Law to give him a ride to Zou and before he can get an answer Luffy butts-in haha.

He's always listening carefully to Law's plan in Dressrosa and keeps closely with his assigned group. And yes, it's implied that Law was the one who strategically seperated the groups.

Kin is the first one to raise a concern to stick to the plan and not waste any time. He understands the stakes but won't venture off on his own, instead making sure the whole group knows what to do. That's because they left before Law finished going over the plan again. Kinemon took it on himself to make sure "they got the memo", so to speak.

Kin's also the one who seems most worried about Law, probably because when he almost rescued him he realized in what kind of terrible state he was. "Answer me!!" there is a lot of concern there he didn't show for any of the Strawhats yet, but he did for Law.

His idea to distract and cause some chaos by disguising himself was also something Law would approve of.

On Barto's ship Kin is already taking care of the dangers ahead of others, because he's aware his friends are still recoving from their injuries.

Kinemon never forgets that Strawhats and Law are in alliance and are two seperate crews. He asks Law specifically for help as well, clearly surprising him with that request. Kin's amazement seems to be very genuine and he is very polite in how he asks for help.

And then alliance happens, they bump fists together I bet Law must have braced himself for it and Luffy declares "Being in alliance means we're friends!". This is the moment Luffy defines what Kinemon and Law's relationship is supposed to be from now on: friendship. And of course Law is annoyed about that, it should be up to him to decide stuff like that! Luffy doesn't care though, pushing Law's boundaries further for him.

Law already takes on his role in the alliance, assuring Kin they will be safe in his submarine and no one will be able to suddenly attack them on his watch. Now this is a turn of 180 degrees, Law takes them as his own personal responsibility from now on, gives emotional reassurance and basically saying "count on me" but with different words. He already succumbed to the fate Luffy bestowed upon him.

And take a look at this. There is team Luffy, team Nekomamushi, Team Inuarashi and Team Kinemon. Do you know what that means? Yes, Law handed the leadership over the group to Kinemon! Meanwhile himself taking the role of a support and protection. And this trend will continue all the way in Wano as well.

Apparently he visited Kinemon at the castle ruins every single day. Most likely worried about his health condition.

Law apologized immediately to Kinemon the moment the other asks what's going on. Even takes the blame for himself, but also takes extra time to reassure Kin that his part of the plan is unaffected and no one knows about the samurais. I think it's implied again that it was Law who seperated the tasks in each group meanwhile taking a supervisor role himself. He told Kinemon to find Akazaya samurais and they had a whole operation going on in the background with gathering supplies of weapons and food, bit by bit, while officially putting the blame on some third party. Knowing Kinemon he wouldn't be smart enough to think of it this way, so Law at the very least helped him organize stuff. Besides we don't see Kinemon running around and making sure everything works out: that's Law actually, checking up with all the groups and resolving any potential crisis situations (like when he warned Sanji of trouble and took it on himself to lead the whole group to safety). Besides we have Sanji's words for proof when Law apologized to Kinemon: "What kind of shoddy operation are you running, Law?!" which is pretty direct in pointing out who the actual mastermind is behind the Wano's battle.

Seeing how Kin also wasn't the smartest at reading the coded picture message about the raid, I think it was originally Law's idea as well that the message should be some sort of code only people involved would understand. The raid picture also mentions meeting up at a port specifically, and that seems to be a reoccuring point plan in every of Law's plans ever since Rocky PORT Incident. Even in Dressrosa and Punk Hazard the chosen meeting points for all seperated groups were told to be specific ports.

When it turns out there was a traitor in the midst of their core team, it's Law who seems to have taken it on himself to dig up information from Hawkins. Interestingly enough every last samurai arrives for the raid despite that every single bridge in the country had been destroyed. I have no evidence but I think it's likely Law helped all those people travel to the "true" meeting spot. After all we didn't see him for days before the raid, and while many fans believed Law turned into a snitch, the raid itself denies it: Law was from the very beginning to the very end on the alliance's side. But then why didn't he take credit for what he did to make the raid a success? Well, he didn't take any credit at all before either, giving it all to Kinemon, so why would he start to take it for himself suddenly?

Here Law rescues the samurais, scolding them for underestimating the sea. Doesn't it look similar to you? Law is rising them up just like Oden did on his execution day. This symbolically proves Law is the actual person carrying the whole battle operation on his back. Just like his full name, Trafalgar Waterloo, should have hinted us all along. His reactions to all the others discussing what's happening are also very telling - Law's the only one not surprised that samurais aren't there yet, that there is a traitor, not even surprised that Kid is there. But he is taken aback about news of Big Mom and Jinbei, because that's some wild cards he didn't know anything about before.

Even though Law protests his submarine isn't samurais garrison, it's pretty clear who samurais themselves think runs their plan in reality. And worthy to notice here: Law no longer calls Kinemon by his full name. It's "Kin" from now on. And how many people did we ever see Law using such an affectionate name for before? With him you're either "something-ya" or a full name basis. Kin is literally the only exception. You can't see it as anything else but affectionate. Throughout Wano they became really close friends.

And of course Law saves Kinemon's skin by coming up with a backup plan on the fly and even decides he will carry the samurais to the back entrance of the island on his submarine. He also allows Kinemon to take the full credit, not really expecting any gratitude. He just sits there in the background, letting others take the spotlight.

And this is a good moment to remind us of what Sengoku told Law about love. It should be unconditional, which means you don't expect anything in return for your help. Law usually operates on "favour for a favour" basis or impersonal alliance level. But in this "alliance" he doesn't even want the credit, doesn't expect anything in return, and breaks his own rule of not calling people in affectionate ways. And does he even get anything for himself from this alliance besides the rise in his own bounty?

Imo there's only one possible conclusion here: Law accepted the condition of the alliance Luffy set up all the way back in Zou, it's supposed to be a friendship. Law indeed fullfilled that condition, he truly became friends with Kin. Of course he still wouldn't admit openly that they're friends, but like always with Law, we need to actually look at his actions and subtext. This friendship wouldn't have happened if friendship with Luffy didn't happen first! After the raid Law doesn't stay at the shogun's palace and instead stays with the ships at the port, but I bet you anything Kinemon ran to him at least once to tell him how grateful he was for his help.

So that's one confirmed friendship of Law we see in the series (besides the one he has with Luffy, but I elaborated on that one all the way back in part 2). The other friendships we can see in the series is that with Bepo, Penguin and Shachi, and Wolf in Law's novel. We know that Law created Hearts Pirates together with them, he doesn't consider Hearts to be his own creation, it's theirs as much as it's Law's. That friendship started off on a sour ground, Penguin and Shachi were bullying Bepo and Law saved him. But they quickly became friends and Law's strength and attitude earned their deepest respect. Penguin and Shachi sometimes allow themselves very cheeky comments ("Captain! You're so sexy now!"), they're also slightly older than him, but despite that they have really big respect for Law and always listen to him, despite sometimes complaining ("Captain got carried away" or "stop him Bepo!!"). They know each other well and as teens they spent a lot of late nights just talking together. They would sacrifice their lives for Law and Law would do the same for them, but he's also not beyond sending them to safety instead and taking all the risk on himself. They often shower Law in compliments, almost like they know he has low self-esteem, but then they know him for 13 years already, of course they would be best friends at this point and know that stuff about him (about his touching trauma probably as well).

Bepo is the only one privileaged with any physical affection, he is Law's safe haven, the last one he allowed himself to keep. The main Hearts also know of Law's past and his full name, as well as the fact he is a D. Of course they also started doing those silly power rangers-like poses when Law introduces his crew and I bet you anything it's a nod to Sora Warrior of the Sea. They're all fanboying the comics together. Law is probably slightly more affectionate with his Hearts than anyone else (which in this case means he allows himself to be a bit more open, but he still keeps some distance from them), but we can see he still acts like a leader for them, trying his best to earn the respect he received. But we also see him worrying about Bepo a lot in Wano when the mink ate a poisoned fish. He almost threw his own raid plan out of the window just because Bepo asked to not leave him alone; clearly they are his firstmost priority. Too bad we don't have that many of their interactions to analyze.

And then we have his friendship with the old man Wolf, inventor from North Blue, who took Law in (spoilers ahead for Law's novel!). At first their relations are mostly "favour for a favour" kind, something that Law knows well because he tends to operate on same basis. So, Law is allowed to stay at Wolf's place if he finds a job and helps with chores and testing the inventions. They take turns preparing the meals. Everything changes when Wolf has an unfortunate accident and Law saves his life. Wolf then asks for a friendship and Law thinks to himself that he can't really refuse a request from someone who doesn't usually do "friendships", he feels honoured with that trust. Wolf still acts as their mentor but it feels more like they became a family. Law is very grateful to Wolf for standing in defense of Penguin and Shachi. Wolf is also the one who teaches young Law how to be a captain and puts it into his head that he needs to take responsibility at all times. In general Wolf acts rather cold and rough, but always shows a kind heart when any of them needs it, and I bet Law took on his habits because that feels a lot like how Law himself acts on many occassions.

Wolf definitely became some sort of a rolemodel for him, but there were also few occassions when Law allowed himself to say some really spoiled and cheeky things to him (like: you do the dishes from now on). Law also helps Wolf make a tough decision: to resign from taking responsibility for his son's actions and not to kill him with his own hands, he literally stops his effort by saying "Family shouldn't kill each other". At the end Wolf gives them a partying gift: a yellow submarine, and encourages Law to go out to seas to look for freedom and experience life as he wants. Even 3 years later both of them think of each other fondly, implying that maybe one day Heart Pirates will return to share stories about their adventures.

That's all the canon provides us. Law generally keeps to himself, but in Law's novel he doesn't seem to have any problem to make friendships, every person he saves becomes eventually his friend, which really gives one more argument that there's no way Luffy would be the exception to that rule. But it becomes clear that the older Law gets the more reserved he becomes and doesn't seek out friendships. He probably wouldn't have perceived Kinemon as his friend if not for the condition of the alliance Luffy applied. And this begs to ask about the elephant in the room: why? Why is he that reserved and why did he allow himself to accept Kinemon as friend in the end? I think he felt it's okay to become friends with Kinemon, because he's a samurai thrugh and through. Even if they win and Kin lives, Law would leave Wano and probably never see him again. I guess that made the decision easier on him to some degree.

I have some ideas about possible reasons why Law avoids any new friendships or affectionate bonds with people and instead tries as much as he can to keep it impersonal. He clearly can be a caring and dedicated friend and I don't think his trauma is the only reason why he avoids people. Because there's no reason anymore (after defeating Doffy and Kaido) to not openly admit he made new friends. I will take a closer look at his possible reasons in the next post.