#i did this ic and he ain't getting his tongue off

[veenriu]

❝DON'T CALL MY PHONE, BITCH !!❞

i want you to stop! feat. t. fushiguro, g. satoru, g. suguru, k. nanami ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ✰ pov : your boyfriend/husband gets a call while you're sucking him off . . . ✰ tags : fem!reader, smut, blow jobs, swearing, hair pulling, face fucking, praise, nicknames (baby, princess, sweetheart, darling, cutie), mdni ✰ an : this was gonna be a toji fanfic but i got to thinking and i was like ... well, yes!

TOJI FUSHIGURO ☆

his grip was firm on the crown of your head, fingers entangling in your hair as he guided your mouth up and down him—finally putting that filthy mouth of yours to good use. the way his dick effortlessly slid down your throat was soo good, and the sight of your eyes fluttering and rolling back in your head every time he hit your uvula was the icing on the cake for him. "just like that, princess. that's it—milk my fuckin' dick, yeahhh," he whispers, your throat relaxing around him as you anticipated the moment he filled your mouth. you could feel it coming, with the way he was twitching and the guttural sounds he lets out as threw his head back against the couch. so close, so close, so— buzz buzz, there it was again. that incessant buzzing that had drawn him out of the moment for the last time. who the fuck could even be calling him at this hour, anyway? "who the fuck—hold on, princess," you let out a whine as he eases his still hard dick out of your mouth, letting it fall against your face as he picked up the still ringing phone. "it's shiu, behave." he warns, smirking wickedly at you as you nearly threw a tantrum below him. your ears tuned out the unimportant drone of small talk between the two men as you sat between his legs, your head resting idly on his thigh as you stared up at him. as you neared the border of sleep, your eyes shot open as you got an idea. your eyes were still locked on him as you inched closer to him on your knees, your fingertips pressed against the floor as you sunk your mouth back onto him and eased him back down your throat. "shit, shiu lemme call you back," toji gritted, quickly ending the call and haphazardly tossing it next to him as he grabbed you by the scruff of your neck, yanking you off of his dick as he moved his grip back to your head. "think y'er so funny, don't you?" he glared, squeezing your cheeks together in his hands and pressing your lips together. "such a mean lil' thing, ain't ya? don't worry, we'll fix that. open up."

GOJO SATORU ☆

his eyes were shut tight as you swirled your tongue around him, moans of pleasure bordering on whimpers as you expertly sucked him off. he didn’t even know you could use your tongue like that, just happened to find out one night after a dare. and boy did he have plans for you after that night.

“christ, y-you’re so good,” he gritted, his bony fingers knotted deep in your hair as he forced his cock deep in your throat—gag reflex be damned. he was so loud, so lust drunk he barely noticed the buzz of his phone until it nearly clattered to the floor.

“shit—y-yeah, suguru?” of course it was suguru, it was always suguru. it was like he had a third eye that opened as soon as you two got it on, it kinda freaked you out a bit.. but nevertheless, you weren’t about to let him ruin this moment. not this time.

you pulled your mouth off of gojo’s dick as he rambled and moved down slightly lower, to his heavy cum-filled balls. he was always so sensitive down there and combined with the way he was feeling extra needy tonight, he was in for it. with a little kiss and squeeze, he was practically melting, quite literally whimpering into his mic as suguru fought back giggles on the other end.

“toruu,” you purred, placing another chaste kiss on his sacks before tracing one of the more prominent veins on his dick right up to the tip, swallowing him back in your mouth as you fondled him simultaneously. the look on his face was priceless, his eyes rolling back and the hand holding his phone going slightly limp.

“satoru? you still there?” geto questioned, hardly making it through his sentence as gojo jumped at the sound of his voice, “yyyeah! yeahyeahyeahyeah, i’m here.. lemme uhh—fuck, call you b-back, ‘kay?” he didn’t even wait for a response before hanging up the phone and letting it clatter to the floor next to you.

“god, baby you’re gonna kill me one of these days.. keep going, please.”

GETO SUGURU ☆

you watched from between your boyfriends legs as he spoke to his best friend; phone resting on the couch, joint rolled neatly between his lips as his head dipped back and his arms spread out on the back of the couch. he looked so pretty, his long dark locks tied up in a bun as the smoke clouded around you two.

“i’m serious, suguru! it was like—this big!” gojo exclaimed, spreading his hands out to imitate the size of whatever he was on about. you could see his bright blue eyes bouncing around on geto’s phone, clearly ecstatic to relay his day back to him. it would’ve been a cute moment if not for you currently slobbering on his best friends dick.

“mhm?” geto purred, fighting back constant heavy breaths and groans that were sure to come out of him sooner or later. it was a wonder gojo didn’t know just what you two were doing, and with the way you were sloppily sucking him off, it was a wonder he could hear geto at all. your train of thought was cut short at the feeling of geto’s dick twitching and throbbing before you felt your mouth fill with his thick cum.

yanking you off of him by the crown of your head, geto held your jaw in his hands and brought you closer to him, entirely tuning out gojo’s incessant babbling. “swallow for me, cutie,” he cooed, watching your throat as you swallowed his seed, his eyes lighting up as soon as the motion happened.

“good girl,” he praised, placing a kiss on your glazed lips. you could swear he was about to push you back down until he turned his attention to the whining that wasn’t coming from you, “suguruu! you’re not listening to me! what the fuck are you doing anyway?” you heard gojo ask, pushing his eye all up in the camera.

geto sat in silence for a moment before he looked down at you wickedly, his lips slowly turning up at the edges as he brought his phone up off the couch and held it over you, turning the camera around to show gojo exactly what he was doing, “say hi, baby.”

“hiii, satoruu,” you giggled, tapping geto’s tip against your tongue, listening to the quiet “woah” gojo pushed out. “yeah so, i’ll call you back, hm?”

KENTO NANAMI ☆

you were sat between your husbands knees as you listened to him speak to his colleagues, something about business. you knew how serious he got when he was on his business calls, but you couldn’t help but be needy.

his hand was on your head as you rested it on his meaty thigh, constricted by his slacks. you couldn’t help but notice that the little bit of swelling in his crotch every time you shifted just a little bit. you’d never seen anything more tempting.

you shifted once more and took his hand off your head, snuggling up further between his legs and inching yourself closer to his bulge as you looked up at him with pleading eyes. “sweetheart—“

oh, how he just wanted to throw you over his desk and absolutely wreck you. you were gonna be the death of him, that was for sure. he attempted to swat your hands away from his belt while simultaneously trying to be inconspicuous enough to not get caught fooling around with his wife while doing important business, but ultimately failing as his belt ends up unbuckled before he could even realize it.

“darling, i don’t think this is very wise—“ “kento? are you listening?” you watched as his head snapped back up to his screen as an awkward smile graced his lips, his hand finding its way back to your head and threading itself deep in your locks, “yes—sorry, my pet just wants some attention. please, continue.”

he pulled on your hair slightly and you took that as the go ahead. you pulled his fly down and eagerly freed him from his boxers, his thick cock springing out from his pants causing his jaw to clench as soon as he was free.

you wasted no time in sinking down onto him, wrapping your lips around him and taking him in as deep as you possibly could without gagging, not wanting to make any noise that’d blow your cover. your eyes stayed on his face as you bobbed your head up and down, watching his fist clench and unclench as he fought back those grunts and groans that were desperately trying to escape him.

soon enough, he was getting close. you could feel him getting restless as he attempted not to squirm in his seat, taking more effort than usual to make his words sound like he wasn’t doing anything. he couldn’t take it anymore. with a quick excuse and an even quicker click of his mouse to hang up the call, his attention was all on you.

“you’re going to get me in trouble one of these days, princess. ah ah, now i didn’t tell you to stop, did i?”

[ryomens-vixen]

90s Boyfriend Toji

CW: Toji is a warning all on it's on, daddy kink, 90s Toji, mentions of drvg selling, smut, slight aftercare if you squint, hitting, etc.

Word count: 🤷🏾‍♀️ I don't know babes...

Good luck 🤞

Author note: thank you @blkkizzat for the nickname I really didn't know what to call him without being cringe af, I've never wrote for Toji so I hope this is kinda good I'm not too confident in this.

90sBF Toji who loves his son so much that he bought both of them matching gold chains, you could say they're almost like twins in a way, wherever Toji goes you'll definitely see megumi following behind him like the daddy's boy that he is. 

90sBF Toji who listens to artists like Notorious B I G, Tupac, DMX, Ice Cube, Ol Dirty Bastard, Nas, Sir Mix A-lot, and Snoop Dogg. 

90sBF Toji who's street name is “T-Raw” (thanks kali.) Almost all the ladies around his hood know him by that, even those he distributes Kush to, he just got it like that. 

90sBF Toji who'll only kick it with you if his son likes you, he's the most important person in his life. If megumi doesn't like you then it's a wrap. 

90sBF Toji who sells Kush for a living along with another side hustle of his… aka slanging dick, yes this whore of a man sells dick as well. 

90sBF Toji who usually picks up single moms around the corner store from his place. 

90sBF Toji who only lets the ladies that Megumi picks come over the house. 

90sBF Toji who won't settle down with anyone unless his son Megumi likes you which doesn't normally last long. Once you do something Megumi doesn't like you better hope you can fix it before he tells Toji. 

90sBF Toji who constantly makes Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto babysit poor Megumi every time he's hauled off to jail. 

90sBF Toji who is almost always cellmates with his homeboys Shiu and Ryomen who of course nags him about whether or not he wants to see his son

90sBF Toji who's surprised by Megumi suddenly took a liking to you one day. Maybe he had mistaken you for another girl Toji use to fuck on or maybe he just thought “Woah pretty lady” and claimed you to be his new mom, but whatever his son wants, his son gets and Toji ain't arguing with that at all. 

90sBF Toji who started making you, a college student babysit little Megumi who continues to call you “mama” and you have no clue as the whether it's because Toji calls you mamas or if he genuinely thinks you're his mother, either way he's cute with an annoyingly fine ass father. 

90sBF Toji who's more into fuckin than he is romancing, but is willing to put forth the effort to keep you around more. 

90sBF Toji who leaves all his women begging for more, surprisingly he hasn't gotten anyone pregnant by now. 

90sBF Toji who constantly has to reassure you that you're the only one he's laying pipe on, he hates that you have to deal with the Plethora of heart broken obsessed women he's left behind.

 90sBF Toji who fucks you like he like he's trying to get you pregnant. “Fuck- that's some good pussy, Hah- Ngh—” 

“Fu— T.. To..ji! too much, too much!”

The more you begged him to slow down even just a little bit, the more he made it apparent that he wanted his dick in your stomach. God it felt like he was trying to break you- fucking you into the mattress. One hand on the back of your neck, the other on your frontal a fist FULL of hair mind you. It was intense. He wanted yet another orgasm out of you to cream and squirt all over him again, you needed this dick and he was going to give it to you all damn night if he had too. 

Oh did your moans and screams turn him on even more than that ‘O’ face you were making. No wonder everyone called him “T-Raw”. “Shut the fuck up, you've been teasing me with that phat pussy all damn day- Fuuughck—”  Toji said in an annoyed tone as he cocks a hand back and smacks a handprint onto your ass. 

“m'sorry daddy!”

“Nah.. Don't cry now, take this dick, take it mamas.”

Oh boy did he take you down through there, eyes in the back of your head, tongue hanging, tears forming at the corners of those pretty (e/c) eyes. What was this your fifth? Sixth Orgasm? How experienced was this man, this is what you get for fuckin with a grown man like him. There he was beating your back in, creamy white ring formed at the base of his cock from both your pussy juices and his cum fusing together, blunt in mouth. Where'd he get the blunt from? Don't know, but man was his dick good no wonder he had so many women flocking after him. The way he makes you feel it in your stomach was no joke he really knew how to fuck you right. 

90sBF Toji who didn't really fuck with college girl had you wrapped around his fingers… I mean his dick. It didn't matter where or when he wanted that pussy before your classes, after your classes, in your dorm room, his car, it didn't matter to him because he was a nasty old man. 

90sBF Toji who had you chasing behind him wondering where he was taking that dick, YOUR dick, was he gonna start slanging dick again? You didn't know but you felt just like those older women he'd Freak then leave.

90sBF Toji who'd reassure you that he wasn't fuckin anyone else by making sweet love to you. He doesn't need you acting crazy on him. I mean who else is going to watch Megumi besides Satoru and Suguru? 

90sBF Toji who gets a little annoyed when you show up blowing up on him about another woman flocking him again, he gets so annoyed that has to shut you up with cock in that tight throat of yours.

“Now tell me who the fuck do you think you're talkin to again!?” 

“Mmmf- Sowry—” 

“Can't talk with all that dick in your mouth can you, heh…” 

You did your best trying to take it all, but couldn't make it to the base of his cock without gagging and coughing. But that was nothing he couldn't fix, with a smirk on Toji's face he held your head down on his thigh and began to fuck himself into your throat. God did this nasty bitch enjoy hearing your ‘gluck gluck gluck’ sounds coming from you. This slutty man let out a deep bellowing groan at the sensation he was feeling in his groin. It was a tight, and warm feeling making his pace grow sloppier by the minute.

“Nasty ass bitch look at you , mouth full of dick fuuughck Im gonna— gonna c.. Cum-” 

Patting on his leg trying to signal him to slow down so you could breathe, if your face could visibly turn blue it would he was not letting up as he chased his own high. One strong thrust he came deep into your throat, god if he could put all that good dick in your kidneys he would. 

90sBF Toji who isn't too big on aftercare, but since he's down bad for you, then he might just indulge in it, just for you, only for you. 

90sBF Toji who after a good pounding throws a towel onto your body and praises you for taking him so well.

“Fuck, you take dick like a good lil bitch don't yah? What cat got yah tongue?”

“ since Megumi ain't trippin bout yah I guess you'll do for now .”

“How about you get cleaned up, come watch a movie with me.”

90sBF Toji who truly can't believe you're to put up with all his bullshit, even his homeboys think something's wrong with you.

90sBF Toji who hates bringing you over to Satoru and Suguru's place for boys night because it always end in a fight everytime Satoru thinks it's be funny to flirt with you.

90sBF Toji who hates that you have to remind him that you don't want him to end up in jail everytime they fight.

90sBF Toji who starts to grow a lil bit of a soft spot for you, so much that he starts to show you off to his old hoes.

90sBF Toji who randomly shows up to your college class to drop off YOUR son Megumi when Satoru and Suguru cancel on him, leaving all your homegirls to think you're a mother now.

Tags: @blkkizzat @littlemochabunni @honeeslust @gojos-thot-patrol-main @oreo-creampie @screampied(I was told to tag you) @halosdiary @connorsui (I was told to tag you) @biscuitsngravie

[writing-with-moss]

If you take requests, could you do one on how helpful soap, Gaz, price and Ghost would be to reader on her period?

OMG OMG OMG OMG MY FIRST REQUEST EEEEEEEEEH!!!!

thank you smmmm anon!

I'm so excited, this is gonna be fun to write

/)/) ( . .) ( づ♡

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How TF141 would deal with reader on their period

(Authors note!) I assumed you wanted it to be a romantic partner? If you wanted to have it be a regular soldier or platonic pls let me know! These are based on my own periods, nausea, slight cramps, regular cycle, moodiness, back aches. This won't be for everyone, and if you would like smth super specific pls just inbox me! or reblog with ur idea and I'll tag you <3 -Moss

Tw/Cw- Periods obv, descriptions of blood, cravings, headaches, nausea and vomiting, Midol and painkillers/medications, mentions of pregnancy and sex, all that icky not so fun stuff :( (except the sex part but we wont talk Abt that). Reader doesn't use pronouns (LIKE A TRUE REPUBLICAN RAAAAAH, i'm kidding I swear) but they have a female body, cause periods :P

(sorry it's kind of short, writing slump :/)

Ghost~

You heard your boyfriends heavy footsteps immediately in the door.

"Hi...Si..." You groan from your nest in the corner of the couch, your head was pounding. Augh this was awful.

"Period?" His rough stubble brushed against your cheek as he planted a chaste kiss across your temple.

"Yeah..." You manage to moan out, clutching at your stomach when suddenly he drops a plastic bag onto the table.

"I got Midol...and Reece's. And ice cream is in the freezer."

You can see a rare ghost of a smile across his lips and it makes you feel a bit better.

"How did you..?"

"I'm not stupid. I have the tracker on my phone luvie." He gives you another kiss, a bit firmer this time before getting up, running up to your room to get a heating pad.

Soap~

You were hunched over the toilet, vomiting your guts out. Barely able to hold back your hair. The bile burned in your throat, a sick taste on your tongue as you retched.

"Holy shite wha's wrong with ya lassie?" Your boyfriend stands in the doorway, wide eyed.

"nausea..." You whine, as he immediately kneels down to hold back your hair.

"You ain't telling me...that..?" He raised a brow, a flash of fear and excitement in his eyes.

"NO! It's- oh my God Johnny. I'm on my damn period." You grumble, wiping your mouth as you rub your teary eyes.

"Ah." He nods, chuckling. "Ya sure? Didn't really use protection last time I shagged yer-"

"Don't even go there." You slap his side and glare, and he shrugs. A boyish smile on his lips as he brushed your hair back into a neat low ponytail.

"Hey, if ya complain so much, I might give ya bairn. Wouldn't have to deal with this and I'd get a-" You sock him in the bicep and he laughs. "Aye, Aye, I get it...Yer strong for a lassie-"

"Oh that's it-" You lunge for him and he runs off fake screaming.

Gaz~

"Uhhh...Babe?"

You whirl around to see your very surprised boyfriend standing in the kitchen doorway. Rightfully surprised, as it was 1 in the morning and you're stuffing your face with as much ice cream as you can possibly get down your throat.

"...you alright?"

You stand up, wiping the small bit of cream from your lip and clear your throat awkwardly. You lock eyes for a moment before you speak. "Oh don't judge me. My uterus is preforming an occult ritual, and needs a lot of blood."

"Ah." He cracks a weak smile at that and walks over, rubbing your back. "You want me to eat with you?"

"touch my ice cream Kyle and I'll shank you."

"Yes Ma'am."

Price~

Price is a girl dad. All girls actually. So today, in this house, it's shark week. Where all of his 3 daughters and his insane very lovable wife all sync up.

He shuffles into the kitchen, quickly trying to stuff as much chocolate and sugar into the cabinets before they find him. He hears a noise, fear creeps up his spine.

Oh no...they're coming.

He rushes up the stairs, taking two at a time. Dammit, his old man knees aren't up to his fearful movements. He hears them. The terrifying creatures are catching up.

"I love you all! Have fun with yer ice cream sweeties!" He screams, before diving into his bedroom and shutting the door. He sighs, a smile on his face. He took care of his favorite girls and now-

"Where the hell have you been John Price?"

He turns. His spouse on the bed with a scowl on their face.

"Theres ice cream in the kitchen?"

"...Truce, husband." And they slink away.

(Please reblog, liking doesn’t do anything for my posts and it doesn’t boost any engagement. Either comment or reblog)

[matchadobo]

KIDD; it's the captain's birthday!

wc: 2453

summary: name prepared surprises for kidd's birthday, but unfortunately, it won't go as planned.

warning/s: fem reader, nsfw at the end 🔞

kidd woke up with the space beside him cold and empty. it was strange that he had all the blanket to himself and you weren't there to take it all from him. he shuffled through the mountain of pillows on his bed for you, blurry eyes scanning through the dimly lit room. he checked the bathroom and you weren't there either. so he opted to go outside where chaos ensued.

the crew members had stopped on their tracks from fishing out confettis and streamers from crates, looking at kidd like he intruded at his own ship. kidd was only wearing boxers but that wasn't the surprising bit. he had a scowl on his face and had a bedhead. but his presence that he had walked out that door made everyone turn pale.

"what the fuck are you guys doing?" he cocked a brow, eyeing each one of them to answer. "what? lost your voices or some shit?"

"you sure you don't need to sleep anymore, captain?" one member tried to salvage the situation, rubbing his hands together with a gentle expression as anxiety pooled through him.

"that's not what i asked, is it, rookie?" he got closer, bending down to the poor man's height who shivered at his proximity. "i wanna know where's name?"

there was total silence, no one wanted to speak and kidd was getting impatient. that is until, he heard a clang by the kitchen that followed your shriek afterward. kidd sauntered to the kitchen, had his mind straight to getting to you. the other crew members tried blocking him by the kitchen entrance, but one glare was enough to send them away despite their protests that you firmly instructed them to prevent him from entering.

kidd saw you entirely focused on decorating a cake with a piping bag. baking supplies were scattered on the countertop and on the floor. it was a mess. your hair and outfit was powdered up by what seems to be flour and your arms and apron had scattered stains of whipped cream. he didn't miss how your tongue peeked out from being way too concentrated at your craft.

his canines tugged at his lips as his smile slowly grew watching you. he crossed his arms leaning by the doorframe with the scared rookies at his feet. he waited for you to notice him but you were on your own world. so he made his way closer to you, leaning by the empty space of the table you were working on and crossing his arms. he glanced by the worn out calendar by the kitchen and saw that it was indeed his birthday. his heart swelled at the thought of you going an extra mile to even make a cake for him.

"ugh, what is it? i asked those ruffians to not let anyone in-" when you finally take your eyes off the nearly finished cake, you saw kidd with a cocky grin on his face. you looked up at him with a shit-scared face.

"hm? what's that? why did you stop, bunny? come on i wanna see how it turns out." he said with a teasing tone, gesturing to the cake.

"h-how-" he saw how your expression shifted and he kinda panicked. you pouted, shoulders dropping as you tossed the piping bag by the table. "those idiots had one job." you sighed, disappointed as you crossed your arms. "well, it's kinda my fault for sleeping in."

"hey what's got you so down, lovebug? you gonna stop makin' this?" he walked in front of you, bending down to your level as he pointed at the cake behind you.

"you're a big party pooper you know...!" you avoided his gaze, hiding your flushed face by your palms. "you're not supposed to wake up until 10 or something."

"can't help it if you're not cuddlin' me or stealin' the damn blanket. plus, crew's too loud." he pulled you in for a hug, hand placed at the back of your head. "come on, ain't ya finishin' your calligraphy? this shit's gold." he peeked behind you at the top of the cake adorned with flowers made from fondant, some edible pearls that contrasted the black icing, and the red lettering that spelled 'happy birthday to the coolest captain' in intricate calligraphy and 'hubby' written in little font with a heart. you couldn't see it, but he had to bite his lip to prevent himself from smiling so hard cuz his heart did a thing.

"you givin' up on me? alright, lemme take over. i think i can make a better lookin' one than you can."

with his last phrase, you suddenly pulled away, looking at him with the most offended glare. your hands loosen around his waist, pushing him away and escaping his grasp. "shut up! this is gonna be fire just you wait!"

so he sat on a stool and watch you decorate with much attention. mission success for him. he knows how to push your buttons and he really wanted to see you finish what you did for him. plus, he loves getting you riled up. he adored how your brows furrowed and the little noises you did when you almost screw up. you'd ask him to look at some little designs you do, he'd glance over and tell you it's cute but he ain't even looking at the cake, he's looking at you. he admires how you make everything look pretty. how some of the strands of your hair fall down your face amidst the bun. how beads of sweat form in your temples and he reaches over to wipe it off.

"there! 's all done." you stuck the candles by the cake and lit them with a lighter. you held up it for him and gave him a big smile, proud of your craft. "happy birthday, kidd!"

kidd took a moment to look at you. you were on your pajamas; panties and a silk, short-sleeved button up that looked too stained with the black and red frostings. your hair was too disheveled but the brightness of your smile made up for it, kidd liked you with messy, bedhead anyways. your eyes were tired but they still found a way to smile. you were so bright and so beautiful even if you just got out of bed and already sweated from working too hard. so he's happy that you were the first one to greet him happy birthday today.

he blew the candles with only one wish in mind after looking at you. he planted a kiss atop your head before grabbing a plate and knife. "let's slice 'er up and dig in."

kidd let you sit on his lap, letting you feed him the cake while you also munch on some yourself. he praised how well you did for the cake, urging you to get seconds. he'd eat the whole cake, not leaving anything left for the crew.

he'd reach over to kiss you, the frosting interspersing on your tongues. "thanks, baby." he mumbled through your lips, smiling. you'd comb on his locks while he presses your torso to his.

"that's not all my surprises though, you wouldn't figure this out."

"really, now?" he tugged on your bottom lip. "i can't wait for the surprise during the night." he planted a kiss on your jaw.

"come on, come on. let's get some breakfast!" you got off his lap, pulling his arm to lead him to the deck.

you took kidd to the decorated deck. red, black, and gold ballons scattered on the floor. colorful streamers and flaglets adorning the railings. a round table stood by the middle with two chairs. "what is this?" kidd asked, shimmying through the ballons and streamers that blocked his way as you led him.

"just sit your ass down, kidd." you sat him down and took a seat yourself.

you gestured to the assigned waiter, a.k.a. the kidd pirates' rookies you bullied into agreeing to be the butler for the foods, only to do the signal for about three fucking times kidd started laughing at how silly you looked. you looked back, seeing the group of men who were supposed to be your butlers to be drunk as hell, stumbling over themselves or lying on the floor. they must've drank last night, you haven't had the chance to check on them this morning since you were a mess yourself.

"love, i-it's okay, we can just-" kidd intervened, seeing how stress you are becoming.

"no...!" you promptly responded, finally facing him. "i'll just get them myself." you stood up, walking back in shame. good thing killer was there to help you bring food to the table.

after that disaster, kidd was fondly waiting and ready to start eating with you. fortunately, kidd lightened up the mood by cracking up some jokes here and there. well, he wanted to see you laugh a lot on his birthday. that's what he wished for.

you two spent the day singing and drinking with the crew. playing games with everyone to pass time. having a huge boodle fight. and chewing up the rookies who fucked up earlier.

until the evening came and everyone was either cleaning up or flat out drunk. you and kidd are already in his quarters as you donned a lacey lingerie in red. kidd was waiting by the edge of his bed, legs spread as he took in the sight of you.

"come 'ere, tiger." he bit his lip, doing the 'come' motion on his hands. you made your way toward him, teasing by walking slowly, keeping eye contact, your hands tracing your body from your hips to your chest. when he finally had you in his grasp, the door busted open.

"c-captain! th-there's fire!-" a daring rookie had bursted out of the door, he seems to be in real panic since he wasn't fazed by the glare of the both of you until he finished his sentence.

"what?" kidd answered, pissed at the interruption. "this better be fuckin' serious or i'll throw you overboard." he stood up while you grab your robe to cover yourself up.

"start talking." you crossed your arms, the blush on the boy's face was evident by the sound of you.

"h-heat-san and wire-san are washing up but... suddenly there was fire." he stuttered, nervously sweating under both of your gazes.

"there was fire when they're...washing up?" kidd repeated, puzzled at the fucked up statement. both of you rushed to the kitchen and there was indeed fire. the entire wall was burning and simmering in flames, heat must've been so drunk. kidd slapped the back of heat's head, asking him what the fuck he was doing while you stand disappointed in the corner.

since it looked like kidd had it under control, you sighed and silently went by the bow of the ship. your heart was heavy and you were so sad that today was full of fuck ups. your cake surprise was blown, the romantic breakfast was a bust, and the sexy time was interrupted. you couldn't even make kidd's day romantic and magical. you leaned by the railings, staring at the sea as you let tears flow by your eyes.

kidd soon took notice of your absence so he immediately went on his way to find you.

"hey." he called out, knowing that you're already crying from the way you were hunched over and your shoulders were shaking. he placed an arm around you, rubbing your shoulders as you rested your head on his chest.

"i'm sorry." you mumbled with wet cheeks and quivering lips. "this day was supposed to be special, but everything i planned for was a disaster."

"don'tcha worry about it, sweetness. you can always make it up to me later, with no clothes on." he squeezed your cheek, winking afterward. "but in all seriousness, i had fun today. it's all because you were there." he rubbed the tears off your eyes, kissing your forehead afterward. "the cake, the breakfast, and god the way you looked in that lingerie. it was the first birthday that i was entirely grateful for this day cuz you made me feel really, really special. aye?" he held your cheek with his hand, earnestly looking through your eyes. "you're the greatest fuckin' present i have ever received, you know that?"

"romance looks good on you, kidd." you smiled, tiptoeing to kiss his cheek. his snowy skin soon being flushed from your gesture.

"aye." he tucked strands of hair by your ear. "but you know what else will look good on me? you." he instantly carried you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing and carried you to his quarters. "let's fuck until daylight cuz that's what the birthday boy wants."

he started off by leaving lip marks on your thighs, biting, kissing, and licking the plump flesh while he was carrying you. he plopped you down the bed, his golden eyes teemed with desired as it peeked through his crimson locks. he slid your panties down with his teeth, his breath tickling your skin, and tossed them somewhere on the floor. he slithered his tongue down the crevice of your folds, his metal arm held your neck in a firm grip while his human arm played with your mounds. he eagerly sucked and nibbled on your folds, spreading them deftly. he elicited vulgar moans from you, moans that would make the crewmates from the other room sweat coldly. he loved the way you pulled on his hair as you screamed for more.

he then lied on his back by the bed, arm at the back of his head as he watched you bounce yourself on his length. his hard, girthy length spreading your cunt as you struggle to sit on it. your back was facing him, ass on full display for him to play with. it was his favorite position after all.

he savored how you periodically looked back at him with that helpless expression, lost in ecstacy and pain. how your pants were in rhythm with his grunts as he relishes on your tight warmth. so when you mutter that you're close, looking back with a pleading gaze as your cunt felt numb and your rear was red from his handprints, he felt himself release inside, not being able to hold back from the literal dream that was before him.

"fuck, sorry, i couldn't hold it b-"

"you're lucky my period just finished." you joked, smiling at him. "besides, it's your birthday. i'd consider it."

once you came, he planted a kiss on your shoulder before hugging you by your waist, tightly basking in your warmth and touch. "sun's still down." he bit his lip, anticipating your reaction.

"you're lucky it's your birthday."

waaaahh it's my baby's birthday!! 🌷i just rushed this during the 6th oml 😩 nsfw ver coming soon i promise!!

[msgexymunson]

Keep Up With Me

Sub!Eddie x Dom!Fem!Reader

Description: your boyfriend breaking up with you because you're too much for him to handle might be the best thing that's happened to you. It's certainly the best thing that's happened to Eddie!

A/N: bitta angst, mostly smut, best friends to lovers, not me and my horny ass projecting again promise, I'm English excuse my language tally ho what what

Warnings: use of pet names (baby girl, sweetheart etc) reader uses she/her pronouns, NSFW, minors DNI or I'll smack you with a wet fish, F!Masturbation, lap riding, M!Oral receiving, slight M! Orgasm denial, p in v protected sex

5k words

Masterlist

You perch on the corner of the checkout counter at Family Video, legs swinging, fingers tapping on the side.

"So, apparently that makes me some sort of slut." You looked at Robin, one of your closest friends, and shrugged.

"Shit, what an asshole! So he basically dumped you because he couldn't keep up with you?"

"Yup. Sad ain't it." You inspect your fingernails, trying to come off as more aloof than you actually felt. You weren't in pain as such, not from losing that asshole, it's just his words kept ringing in your head.

Why do you want to fuck all the time? Must be some sorta slut. Are you a freak or something? What's wrong with you?

The harsh, sobering words ran through your head on a loop, wearing you down even further.

"Hey, I know that look, stop thinking about that jerk he did NOT deserve you, seriously! You just gotta find someone else, you always do." Robin stares at you, hand hovering over yours.

"That's the problem aint it. I just do this over and over. Too fricking horny for my own good!" You laugh; Robin giggles with you. "Hey there's worse problems to have!" You both chuckle for a bit, but you're still upset about his words. Slut. Freak. "Maybe I am a freak." You sigh.

"Whose a freak?"

You jump, and look around. Eddie Munson, your other best friend and long time crush, had just walked in the door. He flashed you a lazy smile, brown doe eyes creased at the corners.

"We are not talking about you Edward if that's what you think."

Eddie mimes being shot in the chest. "Oh sweetheart you wound me! Don't call me that." He pouts at you.

"It's your name, isn't it?" You poke your tongue out at him.

"Urgh, yeah, government name, but it's so not metal." He picks you up off the counter and spins you round, whilst you squeal.

"Put me down Edward!"

"Whose Edward?" He grins, still holding you, lightly tickling your sides.

"Okay Eddie please!"

He places you on your feet with exaggerated care, brushing imaginary dust of your shoulders.

Robin's eyes flick between yours and Eddie, widening and gesturing her head at you. You know she's dying to say something, but you had told her a million times, Eddie was just a friend. Sure he did shit like that, but it's like you were his little sister or something. There's no way he felt the same way about you.

"Well if you two are done flirting, I've got a job to do." You open your mouth to protest but Robin smirks, grabs a few videos and runs off like a baby deer to shelve them. looking at Eddie, you see his face is flushed. Silence for a heartbeat.

"So aren't you seeing loverboy tonight?" Eddie waggles his eyebrows at you.

"Oh I've just come from EX loverboy's house. Here to pick a horror film and pretend all the victims have his face. Oh and eat ice cream until I'm sick."

"Oh shit sweetheart I didn't know, sorry."

"It's all good, just trying to get some stuff he said out of my head. He's a dick anyway."

Eddie frowns, his brow furrowing. He knows this is affecting you more than you are letting on but he doesn't question it.

"Look, I've got a deal to do, but do you want to come over? I can drop you at mine and I'll be like 20 minutes max. I'm up for horror movies, ice cream and a joint or two?"

"Sounds good Eddie. Thanks."

"No problem sweetheart."

You pick a movie each and summon Robin from her hiding space to check them out.

"Okay you kids have fun!" She beams at you both, waving over enthusiastically.

"Robin you are such a dork." You laugh and leave, turning back to make sure the door shuts and doesn't leave a draught. Robin's still staring at you two, gesturing and putting her thumbs up. You roll your eyes and make your way to Eddie's van.

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

Eddie, true to his word, dropped you off at his trailer. You were standing in his room, all alone since his uncle was at work. It was odd; you'd been here before several times, but never alone. You sat on Eddie's bed, surrounded by his smell. Laying back against the pillows you grab one and drink in the scent. Okay you've definitely crossed over into freak territory. He wasn't even here and you were obsessed; surrounded and engulfed by his scent. You felt a familiar warmth between your legs, your desire growing for him with each passing second. You hadn't even realised you had unbuttoned your jeans until your fingers met your underwear.

What the hell are you doing he'll be back any second! Despite knowing this, it gave you a little thrill to think he might catch you with your hand down your pants. Maybe he'd finally give you what you've been craving. Working your hand into your underwear, you find your clit with a gasp. You already felt wetness creeping from your folds, desire being something that seemed to run hot within you, all the time. Teasing at your clit, you run your fingertips in soft circles, building up that tingling feeling in your core.

Throwing your head back you groaned softly, increasing the pressure on your sensitive bud. You imagined it was Eddie's fingers doing this, rubbing you, teasing you into an orgasm. It definitely helped. Soon you were panting, chasing your release.

Your mind races, thinking about how he picked you up earlier so effortlessly, you thought about his strong hands holding you firmly, rings pressing into your flesh. You think about what it would feel like, his hands on you whilst you grind against him and that did it. You come undone with your own hand, your release shattering through your nerves. Laying there for a moment you gather yourself, feeling a twinge of guilt. You shouldn't be thinking about your best friend like this. Maybe there was something wrong with you.

Freak. Slut.

No time to unpack all of that, hearing the crunch of gravel outside. The front door opens.

"Hey honey I'm home!" Eddie chuckles, and you hear him coming towards his room. You quickly try look less dishevelled, wiping your hand and hoping against hope that what you just did wasn't written all over your face.

Eddie struts in, chucks his metal lunchbox on the bed and throws himself after it. You can't help but laugh at his exaggerated movements.

He lays there on his side, propping himself up on his elbow.

"Ya miss me?" He grins.

"Always." You smile at him, trying your hardest not to appear flustered.

"So, I'll roll, you pick what to watch, and we'll make a nest."

You laugh at that. "A nest? What am I an egg?"

"Just do what you're told baby girl." Jesus that's a new one. That nickname went straight to your cunt. He sits up, cross legged. "Oh and hand me those papers on the bed side table."

You bend across and grasp the papers, passing them to Eddie. For a fraction of a second he looks down and looks back up at you, face flushed pink.

"By all means get comfortable." He coughs and looks away.

You look down and realise you left your jeans unbuttoned. A small triangle of red is exposed from the front of your black jeans. Trust me to pick bright red underwear today. Flushing magenta, you try and cover your tracks.

"Shit, sorry Eddie the jeans were digging in you know."

"No worries princess, you want a pair of sweat pants? You need to be cosy in our nest" he grins at you.

"Sure, thanks Eds." 

He grabs you a clean grey pair from a drawer and you go to the bathroom to change, cursing yourself for being so stupid. When you return, sweats hanging low of your hips, he had rolled and was waiting for you with a lighter in hand.

"Shit Eddie you could have started without me."

"Nuh-uh. This is all for your benefit, and I'm a gentleman. The lady gets first toke." He reaches over once you've sat down and puts the joint in your mouth and lights it. You take a drag, holding it in for a couple of seconds, then release it. You take another, deeper toke.

"Wow this is decent." You smirk at him.

"All my stuff is decent babe."

"Oh so we aren't talking about the other week with that shit that was all twiggy?"

"No idea what you're talking about." He looks pointedly in the opposite direction. You snort at his actions and pick the first film, loading the VCR.

You both lay back, arms touching, watching the film. The joint goes back and forth, and you begin to giggle at the movie, feeling your high settle in. Laughing with each other at the ridiculous plot, you feel so much better about everything that had happened that evening. You were with Eddie. He always made you feel at ease.

Once the movie had finished Eddie started rolling another, and you ejected the film to put the next one in.

"So, you ready to tell me what happened?" Eddie asks, licking the spliff into place.

Your eyes go wide thinking about what you did in his bed. Shit, how did he know?

"What- what do you mean?"

"I mean why did lover boy break it with you? You never said."

Relief started to spread through you, then you remembered the reasons. Freak. Slut. No way you could tell Eddie that. It was too embarrassing.

"Just standard guy commitment shit. Nothing new." You try and brush it off. It might have worked with someone else, but Eddie could always tell when you are lying.

"Nope, nope. You weren't even serious, you said. So go on, tell me?" His soft brown eyes bored into you.

You started to feel hot and bothered at this amount of attention.

"He said some stuff, it wasn't nice, I don't want to go through it again."

"Did you tell Robin?"

Ooft. How did he always know?

"Okay he said some... stuff that got to me. Jesus Eddie its not important!"

Eddie strokes your arm and looks you in the eye, "if it wasn't important it wouldn't have gotten to you. I just, I want to help."

You look into his eyes and see pure love there, and it does help. You take a deep breath, and, looking anywhere other than Eddie's eyes, you explain the real reason for the break up. Eddie sits silently, listening to you recount the events. When you are done, he looks at you and begins to smirk.

"Eddie it's not funny." You scowl at him. That throws Eddie over the edge. He laughs out loud, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. Feeling embarrassed, you move to get up. Eddie's hands grab your waist, holding you still.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart, I'm not laughing at you I swear." He's grinning, face slightly red from his outburst.

You stare at him. "Then what the hell are you laughing at?"

He chuckles a bit, then strokes your arm, "it's just, it's like he's gotten rid of any man's wet dream, seriously. What man doesn't want a hot girlfriend who wants to do him all the time? He's clearly fucking crazy."

"You- you think I'm hot?" You stutter at him.

"Of course, look at you, you're fucking incredible. Baby girl, any man would be lucky to have you."

Part of you thinks this is just Eddie being a good friend, but the way he looks at you and the lingering hand on your hip; that tells a different story. You decide to push it a little further.

"Any man, right?' You look into his eyes.

"That's what I said sweetheart."

"So, that includes long haired, metal loving, tattooed men right?" You look up at him through your lashes.

"I mean yeah if that's your type..." you see the penny drop behind his eyes. "Oooh, Er yes, those too. Maybe lead guitarist men. Men who like to play D&D?" His voice getting higher. He tilts his head to one side, looking at you with hopeful doe eyes.

"You think there's guys like that in Hawkins?" Batting your eyelashes at him, you move closer.

"Well, I can certainly think of one or two," he says, moving one hand to the nape of your neck, stroking your skin.

"Well, give me their numbers and I'll mmmph!" Your reply is muffled as he presses his lips onto yours.

His touch is electric, the feel of his lips on yours heated. It's more than you could have ever dreamt, the passion of the kiss is something you've never experienced before.

You press your tongue into his mouth and deepen the kiss. Eddie's hand holds you by the hip, fingers pressing into your sides, rings warming against your hot skin. You need to feel him closer so you move to straddle him, but in your eagerness you manage to push him onto his back. Leaning into him, legs either side of his hips, never breaking the kiss. You caress his chest with one hand, the other moving to grab him by the waist, as if he could get any closer without being inside you.

Both of your breathing becomes laboured, desperate. You break the kiss, panting at each other. Eddie's face is a picture, he looks like he's in heaven. A stupid grin is plastered across his features.

"So I've wanted to do that since forever." He beams at you, hand moving to cup your jaw.

"Why didn't you?" You frown at him.

"I dunno, I just thought you weren't interested in me like that."

You look down at him, gesturing to how you were straddling him. "Well, I mean, you're okay I suppose..." you tease him.

Eddie thrusts up with his hips, rubbing against your clothed pussy. You feel he is hard, almost busting through his jeans, and you whimper.

"Seems I'm a bit more than okay pretty girl." Eddie smirks at you.

"Shut up Eddie." The teasing that was a daily occurrence between the two of you puts you at ease. You hold him by the shoulders, and grind your core over his hardened cock, back and forth. Eddie groans low in his throat, his eyes rolling back.

"Jesus Christ, shutting up." You laugh at him, and reach to pull your top over your head, exposing your red cotton bra. It's just plain, soft cups with the tiniest bow on the front. Eddie gazes at your chest as if it were clad in the finest lingerie. You continue to rock against him, feeling your own pleasure mount up.

"You're gonna be the death of me sweetheart" he says but there's no malice in it, just pure admiration. You smirk at him and start planting kisses on his chest, fingers feathering their way to his belt. You undo it and his jeans, yanking them down to his knees, and continue leaving hot, open mouthed kisses to his stomach. Your fingers dip into the waistband of his boxers and you look up at him for confirmation. Eddie stares at you open mouthed for a second, then nods frantically. You smile back at him and bite your lip, pulling his underwear down slowly.

His member springs out to greet you, bigger than average but what really surprised you was the girth of it. You couldn't help but feel your pussy clenching around nothing in anticipation. Licking a pointed stripe from the base to the tip, you massage his balls with your hand. Eddie's head rolled back, his eyes scrunched shut. Lowering your mouth onto the tip, you swirl your tongue around it, licking up his pre cum. Eddie's groan was borderline pornographic. You look up at him and slowly take him into your mouth, using your hands for what didn't fit. Bobbing up and down on his length, you use your tongue to massage him. You'd wanted to feel his dick on your tongue for so long, this almost didn't feel real. There was something about being in control of Eddie's pleasure that made you feel extremely powerful. You could feel his cock twitching already, Eddie was practically whimpering. You could tell he was close.

"Baby girl, shit, I can't take much more, I'm gonna-"

You pull away with a wet pop, Eddie whimpering at the loss of your mouth.

"Baby girl please please." Eddie looks a mess, his face is red, his breathing coming out in heavy pants, trying to grab at your arm, side, anything he could reach.

"Patience baby", your voice dripping honey.

You fling your sweats off and move up him, straddling him in your underwear. Not letting him enter you. Not yet. You were enjoying dominating him.

You start to grind down on his length again, making Eddie whine.

"Please-" Eddie looks at you, breathless and pouting.

"No." You smirk at him. Eddie gasps and looks at you in surprise. You continue to rub  your wet heat against him, "I was thinking about this earlier, wanted to find out what it felt like," grinning, grinding your cunt against his rock hard dick, feeling your slick drench your underwear and him.

Eddie's falling apart in front of your eyes. You unclasp your bra, letting it fall. Eddie's eyes widen and he whimpers, thrusting against you. You let out a moan.

"Touch me Eddie." He wastes no time in grabbing at your chest, smoothing rough fingertips over your hardened nipples. You feel a familiar sensation, a burning in your stomach and chest, desire building and building, setting your insides ablaze.

You increase your pace, rubbing back and forth, your wetness soaking Eddie, making him a slippery mess. You feel him twitch under you, fingers pinching your nipples almost painfully and it sends you over the edge. You cry out his name, your hands in your hair, still riding him, extending the outrageous feeling.

Eddie's hands suddenly grasp your hips, hard. You open your eyes and look down just as his scrunch shut. He comes then, violently with an exaggerated moan. His own release pebbles his stomach, your stomach, even a smattering reaches his chest. You look down at him as you come down from your respective highs, and you both start laughing.

"Well, I've never come like that before." Eddie's stroking your sides, gazing at you in disbelief.

You laugh, and get up off him, readjusting your underwear. You go to the bathroom to clean yourself off, and return with a dampened wash cloth. You kneel beside him, wash cloth hovering over him.

"You gonna help me or just stare baby girl" he smirked, poking you in the ribs, his other hand gesturing to the mess on his stomach.

"Hey, just admiring my masterpiece. Have to take a picture next time." You watch as Eddie's mouth springs open, his face turning purple. You simply hum and wipe him down, passing him the cloth to get anything you missed.

"Holy shit, I was right. You are literally every guys wet dream. Fuck. You're a-a pervert!" He points at you dramatically.

Laughing loud at that, you flop down next to him. He turns on his side and strokes your face, moving a couple of stray hairs.

Feeling self conscious for a moment, you look at him, cheeks flushed slightly.

"You don't mind then?"

"Mind? Mind?? I think I won the lottery." He beams at you and brings you in for a kiss.

"So you wont mind what I meant, when I said I thought about that earlier?" You're testing him, seeing if this could actually work. And you want to see the look on his face.

"Oh please for all that is good tell me." He practically pants at you.

You giggle, "well when you dropped me off I had some time to fill, so I might have touched myself thinking of you."

The groan that escapes Eddie's lips travels straight to your core. He envelopes you in a fiery kiss.

"Jesus baby girl, fuck!" He rubs your back, one hand snaking into your hair, pulling it. "In my bed?" You nod. "So yeah I'm hard again."

You laugh, "looks like you weren't kidding when you thought you could keep up with me," you smile smugly at him.

He pushes you onto your back in response and starts to nip and lick at your neck, leaving opened mouthed kisses in his wake.

"Oh I can keep up with you baby girl, trust me."

Then he's mounting you, the tip of his cock begging for entry.

"Someone's eager, have you got protection?"  You raise your eyebrows at him.

"Yes, God yes, please baby please." His eyes dart to his bedside table.

You push at him, smiling, teasing him, "so you're all confident until you have any pressure at all, I see. Lay back then baby."

He immediately lies on his back, quiet and unassuming, holding his cock by the base. He looks painfully hard but he's not moving a muscle, looking at you for your say so. You feel immensely powerful, gazing at him in such compliant position.

You reach to the drawer at his bedside, rummaging through.

"Oh, what do we have here?" You exclaim, pulling out a dirty magazine, folded to the centre. You cant help but notice the model's hair is just like yours.

"Hmm, she's hot I'll give you that. Kinda looks a little like me eh?" You wink at him mischievously.

He blushes crimson at you in reply.

"I, I suppose I have a type?" He shrugs, face red as a beetroot.

You can help but laugh, "I'm just flattered baby." And then you find his condoms. You pull one out and rip it from its packaging using your teeth.

"So, you gonna be a good boy?" You question, it almost being a joke but you receive a very certain "yes ma'am!" As a response.

You cant help but chuckle, "oh, so the dungeon master wants someone in control, I see how it is," and you grab the base of his painfully hard member.

"Please...' Eddie nearly drools out of the side of his mouth in response.

"Hmmm its good to hear you beg. Well I suppose I'll humour you. For now," you smirk out the corner of your mouth. You roll the condom onto his hard cock. He hisses at the friction. You line him up to your entrance, straddling him.

As you slowly lower yourself onto his hardness, he cries out at the sensation. You see his eyes screwed shut in response, his cheeks flushed pink. You already feel obsessed by the look of him as he entered you. You want to record this forever, the moment you finally got to take your crush. The moment you realised you could completely take control of him; everything you'd ever dreamed of. He's compliant, melting to your touch. You take him into your cunt until you're sitting on him fully. He's buried in you to the hilt, stretching you. Its bordering on pain given his size, but delicious in itself. It's a good pain.

You hold him by the waist, almost possessively. Searching his eyes as he meets your gaze, you see tears gathering at the edges of his eyes, flustered and fucked out already. The look on his eyes is pleading, almost praying.

"Mother of God, fuck...."

"I thought we settled on ma'am?"

"No.... definitely seeing God... baby..." it's a shadow of Eddie's usual humour.

You giggle at him, a sound seemingly innocent, considering Eddie is buried deep inside your pussy. You start to slowly move against him, bouncing up and down on his length, grinding against him every so often. Eddie's eyes roll back, he grabs you firmly by the hips, rocking you back and forth. You take a deliberate, pounding pace against him and feel your release begin to build again.

Eddie is babbling, passionately holding you as tight as he can.

"Jesus, baby girl, you feel so tight and warm, fuck."

Eddie's words of encouragement and blissed out face spur you on. You take him harder, faster, gripping onto him with your fingertips. Every thrust bringing you to ecstasy. You can feel him through every fibre of your being, deep within your core. You cry out in pleasure, the feeling of Eddie in every nerve. Moaning and writhing above him, you know you're about to cum, your walls flexing around him, squeezing his length. Eddie whimpers and you practically scream, your pleasure coming to a head, the feeling pulsating through your every limb, taking over control. Your body rocks in absolute rapture. You shake and stroke his sides as you come down.

"Fuck, Eddie, oh my God." You quiver above him, legs shaking.

"Baby, please can I get on top of you. Please." He looks up at you, wide eyes beseeching you. How could you say no to that face?

"Go on, whatever you want." You remember his reaction from earlier, " you've been such a good boy."

Eddie practically growls at that, flipping you onto your back.

He finds your entrance, slipping back into you deeply with a groan. You pull one leg over his shoulder, the other hitched around his waist and see his eyes roll back. He thrusts into you, deep and slow, planting open mouthed kisses onto your calf.

You stare at his face, one hand cupping his jaw. He's pink tinged, sweating, wild eyed.

"Hey, Eddie, baby, look at me. You're being such a good boy, taking me, using me so well baby."

"Fuck yes" Eddie breathes, his eyes now fixated with yours, grounding him. "Thank you thank you thank you." He chants as his thrusts get faster and sloppier. He grabs onto your hips, plunging as hard into you as he can, and you feel a mounting desire burning in the depths of your stomach.

"Eddie yes fucking me so well, oh God baby, I'm gonna cum so hard." Your words of encouragement send him over the edge; with a stutter and a high pitched moan he comes, shaking and gripping you tight. He continues to thrust in you though, looking at your face, brow furrowed. It must feel too much but he wants, needs you to come again. You grab him by the ass and push him into you as far as he will go, arching your back, releasing a toe curling moan as you orgasm.

You both try and slow your breathing as you move your leg from his shoulder, still quivering.

"Jesus Christ, baby girl that was... wow" Eddie chuckled in disbelief.

"Yeah? That good huh?" You smiled up at him, stroking a stray hair from his face.

"I just... if I knew you were gonna be so..."

"So what?" You frown at him.

"So... in charge! I mean, fuck that was... wow." He grinned at you, and you see your Eddie again. He rolls off you and disposes of the condom.

"What would you have done?" You smile at him, grabbing the blanket to cover yourself up.

"Well, probably just thought about it a whole lot until you made a move." You laugh at that.

"Eddie that's what happened."

"Hmmm, impeccable logic. Still, you had no right keeping this to yourself."

You laugh and throw a pillow at him. He pretends its heavy and it knocks him to the bed. He wiggles underneath it, seemingly pinned. You crawl over to him, moving the pillow, and cage him in with your arms.

"So, I'll roll, you put the movie on, and then round three yeah?" You tilt your head with the question.

"Fuck baby girl you really are gonna be the death of me. But what a way to go!"

[thecountesstribe]

HOTD SEASON 2X4 SPOILERS AND REACTIONS.

Babies we got our asses kicked today huh??!

I knew it was coming, I knew but that doesn't make it hurt less. As a matter of fact it hurts worse because I loved book Rhaenys and sure they changed and butchered her character somewhat in the show but that was Grandma and I loved her. I need Vhagar and Aemond dead bro. I'm not even playing I'm wishing for their downfall so hard right now. Rhaenys Targaryen was one of the greatest women in Westeros to ever live and stamp that. I'm not ready for the reactions of her family when they find out about her death. Baela, Rhaena, Jace, Corlys, Rhaenyra and the others just recently lost Luke and to lose her so soon after. I'll be sick. Her relationship with Meleys was so special to me. Meleys looking back at her for the first time during the episode and then taking her last look at her for the final time, I was in tears. I'll never get over this hurt. Her face when she realized that she wasn't going back home with Meleys and the fall 💔💔💔. I am not okay, I'm not okay. Rest in peace to them both.

Sunfyre I'm sorry you had that halfwit who barely knows his mother tongue for a rider even though that little nudge you gave him was actually super duper cute. Another one of my babies. Y'all don't think they rewrote the story to kill off Sunfyre because in the trailer for episode 5, Sunfyre wasn't shown.

Aemond I hate you! Living up to that kinslayer moniker. So we intentionally see him burn both his brother (honestly fuckin deserved and about time) and his dragon. Wonder how this is gonna play out, they better not give Aemond Baela's story arc. I'm so fuckin serious. That's it. I wanna fight.

Rhaenyra coming home to a tongue lashing was so satisfying. Jacaerys was fed up y'hear me. He was done. Her telling him about the song of fire and ice just like Vizzy T did for her warmed me a little.

Criston Cole shut the fuck up challenge. It happened years ago, it's time to let that hurt go. They let that old man read him for filth and spit on him just for me.

Alicent being potentially pregnant and having to take medieval plan b or is it medieval abortion medication is so funny to me. I wonder how crybaby Cole would take the news of her potentially getting rid of the child? It's gonna be a mess.

Jacaerys was angry this entire episode and I don't blame him. Why in a room full of adults with battle experience/tactics for the war to come does he and Baela have to act like the adults. On top of that his queen, the one who they're fighting for is just taking unnecessary stupid risks and not thinking like a leader. I'd be irritated asf too. The black council aside from a selected few are just a bunch of bickering childish idiots. Both him and Baela were tired. Baela and him stepping up and leading the council was so good. They literally fed us what could've been had they had a chance to rule. Westeros was robbed. Baela proving she's just as worthy as Jace is just *chefs kiss. One thing I could say about my boy is that he knows Baela could hold her own, she's proved it but he will never ever under any circumstances let anybody feel that they could dismiss her or disrespect her. Him letting that one goof know it's because of her they have actual information on some of the greens army and acknowledging her contributions, yeah they would've been both sat the throne. Ain't nothing like she's just a queen's consort with no power. They would've been co rulers fr. Him comforting her publicly when they brought up Daemon in front of the council no less, like he doesn't play about her. That's the kinda guy you want to be locked in for life with. Rhaenys looking on in the background was a parallel to the first time they held hands during the funeral and she came up to them and she peeped the same thing she peeped then. I know she knew that Baela was in great hands. 😭😭😭 Never beating the best couple in Westeros allegations.

They black council talking about Daemon probably having an orgy LMAOO, he's getting fucked alright. That man has not had one moment of peace since he stepped foot in spooky town and it's what he deserves. Laena being beautiful and haunting his ass, period boo and baby Rhaenyra wearing older Rhaenyra's clothes and the crown that was too big for her tiny head (symbolizing it was/is a burden) and tormenting him. Yeah I'm gonna have that on repeat.

Rhaenys already knowing Adam and Alyn are Corlys children before flying to her death and her informing him and that sweet scene with Alyn, I think she learned her lesson after the whole debacle with Laenor and his boys. That's growth. Wish we could've had more of that development on screen but what can we do.

It was honestly a solid episode. I'm exhausted this was probably a review too long and if you stuck around till the end thanks for reading my thoughts ❤️. Sunfyre, Meleys and Rhaenys didn't deserve that. Sending hugs.

[applepiesupreme]

American Apple Pie

Pairing: Low/Mid Honor Arthur Morgan and female OC.

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Savigne Ricci is a temporary guest at the Van der Linde camp. Her path crosses with the enforcer of the gang, Arthur Morgan, and despite their differences, a relationship develops between them. Whole lot of smut and fluff, slow burn-ish.

AOC link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54945853/chapters/146841181

Chapter 24

"Told ya this was a bad idea!" Arthur yelled, "Look where it got us!"

"I'm god damn tired of you telling me the obvious in hindsight," Dutch countered, incensed. 

"Well someone has to," was the low growl as Arthur stalked closer. "Cause it ain’t damn obvious to you!"

"Please," Hosea interjected, "everyone calm down."

"Calm down?!" Arthur boomed, his voice carrying outside the tent, "Tell that to Sean!"

There was a miserable silence. 

"We went too far," Hosea said begrudgingly. "That much is clear. Nobody is happy with what happened, Arthur."

The younger man just turned his back and huffed over his shoulder, looking out to the camp. In the back of Hosea’s mind: how combative Arthur was with Dutch now. The reverence, the respect, the devotion all in tatters, unrecognizable. His tone, his mannerisms when he argued with Dutch were those of a stranger and an equal, not Dutch’s right hand. It was glaringly obvious and it drove Dutch wild more than the argument itself.

When he had encouraged Arthur’s affair with Savigne, Hosea had known it would cause some cracks in their relationship, since Dutch didn’t approve of her. Cracks, yes, but not these canyons! He had assumed Arthur would get a bit more independent and pursue something outside the gang eventually. Nothing wrong with that. But Dutch’s stubborn decision to back Micah despite Arthur’s pleas, even after Arthur was almost killed in a mission that Micah had orchestrated, had destroyed all trust between them. Hosea wasn’t sure of Dutch’s motivations in doing this, but it wouldn’t surprise him if Dutch clung to Micah both to spite Arthur and because Arthur had left a gaping void with his withdrawal. Either way, the flames just simply wouldn’t go out between these two in and it was hard to watch at times.

Hosea glanced at Dutch. 

"You think I wanted it to go this way?" was the defensive response.

"Playing the families. Playing sheriff," Arthur grumbled. "We got cocky, ain't no talkin' around that. Now there ain't any gold and ain't no Sean."

Hosea sighed and coughed gently. What a mess, he thought. Things just finally seemed to be on the upturn and then another collapse. At least he knew he was getting too old for these fancy games, by the looks of it Dutch was still in denial. 

"We have to move," Dutch said finally, trying to find common ground. He ignored Arthur's tongue click. "It's getting too hot here, we have to find somewhere else to take the gang."

"Got too hot weeks ago," Arthur mumbled and Dutch ignored that, too. Hosea could tell that Dutch’s patience was running thin but he didn't want the gang to see the infighting and he calculated that it was easier to win Arthur back once he had calmed down. 

Arthur harrumphed and walked off towards his tent. 

"All he does is complain," Dutch hissed when he was gone. "Must look mighty easy to run a gang from where he's standing."

"Nothing easy about it," the other man said to placate him. "But you have to admit, we did get cocky."

"When has there ever been reward without risk?" Dutch snapped, leaning on the tent pole, watching Arthur's furious stride towards his tent.

"Never. But we're on thin ice. People are upset. Blackwater, Pinkertons...this..."

"We just need one good score and then we're done."

Hosea sighed didn't say anything. 

"Is it true?" Savigne jumped up to come around the table. 

He nodded and looked away, his mouth thin, his shoulders tense. 

She walked up to him to embrace him, shaken. "I'm sorry," she whispered, cheek on his beating heart. His arm came around to press on her lower back. He didn't say anything, was probably too angry to speak. Moments passed and she stepped back to look up. He nodded again to say he was fine before she could ask and she nodded to say she understood even though she didn’t. It could have easily been Arthur who got shot today and she shuddered at the idea, throwing her arms around his back again with more fervor.

"'M fine,” he mumbled, sensing her thoughts and embracing her with more vigor as if to make his point.

This was the beginning of a a very turbulent time. Her sleep became spotty again and she was tense and distracted over the next days, watching him wrestle his grief and anger, torn between drawing closer to alleviate it and giving him the privacy to deal with it himself. He was distant and more quiet than usual, spending more and more time with the gang, often coming over to eat dinner and then leaving again. She couldn’t deny that she felt hurt about this, but told herself that whatever they were hatching over there was more important than her hurt and that once it was settled, things would level off again.

She never asked him what was going on and he seemed more disinclined than ever to share it. Sometimes it felt like he was doing it to protect her from the mental load, other times because he found commonality with the gang that he didn’t find with her. It was hard to pinpoint the reason, but she trusted him and convinced herself that it was the former.

Abigail and Mary Beth said that there was a lot of yelling and tension during the day when she was away and silent simmering at night. Arthur was away a lot, there were rumors that they would move again soon and they were looking for alternatives. When she asked, he explained that she didn't need to worry her head about all that gang business and that it was separate from them. This was a rule she had stood by in the past so she couldn't argue against it and morosely nodded in acceptance. But in truth half the time she was upset that he wouldn’t turn to her for solace and relief, and the other half upset at herself for expecting it, for not letting him work through his own problems in his own way.

A few days later, just as heads were cooling and guitars started to timidly get strummed in camp again, Jack disappeared and all hell broke loose. Again. Savigne rode in to a flurry of action and it scared her - she thought O'Driscolls had come through again and a familiar bile rose in her throat. 

Then Lenny explained what happened and she ran over to Abigail to hear it from her. Abigail was in a state and Savigne wasn't surprised - she was almost in a state herself. She liked Jack and even if she hadn't, she didn't have to be a mother to understand what it felt like to get your child taken from you. 

She sat around with the other women in an effort to console Abigail but frankly, she wasn't very good at it. She had rarely forged close enough relationships with people to find herself in these circumstances and consoling someone whose son had been kidnapped seemed way over her league. What did you even tell someone like that? The usual platitudes about how everything will be alright sounded hollow. She sat for a while and listened to Abigail wailing and felt supremely uncomfortable. She couldn't do anything and she didn't have the personal skills to make it better. She said she's going to make some soup for everyone because at the end of the day, that was at least something she could do. 

As she was getting ready to do just that, Arthur stomped towards the tent, dark and tense. "Have to go," he said, somewhat short. 

"Okay?” she said. Then: "Do you know where he is?" 

He huffed with impatience. "We know who took'im." 

“Took him?” she asked, dumbfounded and watched his eyes, cold as ice, as he prepared his guns. A familiar flip of worry landed in her gut, her palms started to sweat and she tried to ignore it. She didn't want to be the nagging woman, but she also didn't want him to come back like he had that time, injured and dying. Or not come back at all. It felt unfair that just when things were returning to normal, he was ripped from her vicinity again, tossed further out than he had ever been. What if this was the new normal? What if they would never find their way back to each other again?

She noticed that he was watching her and, not knowing what else to say, managed another "Okay.”

"I'll be fine." he said, a bit gentler. 

"I'm sure," she mumbled with a confidence she didn't have. 

He stepped closer but didn't touch her. Despite knowing that she wasn't the target of it, his anger intimidated her.

"I will come back,” he attempted to convince her. 

“I know,” she said and tried to smile. "I will save you some soup.” He nodded, looking relieved. 

Just at that moment Abigail called for him and ran over. She looked beside herself; irate and panicked and worried all rolled into one. Arthur stepped away from Savigne when the other woman arrived, all flushed and breathless. 

“Arthur! You have to find him! Please, you have to!” 

He nodded, grim. “We will. Gonna be alright, Abigail. They won’ harm a child.” 

“You don’t know that!” she hissed, grabbing the lapels of his shirt. Savigne shifted uncomfortably, wondering if Abigail was about to have a meltdown.

“I said…” he started, still calm. 

“Please! Do it for me! For us!” 

Even though the words were perfectly innocent, the awkward silence that followed triggered Savigne’s gut instinct. She looked up and knew by Arthur’s face that there was more said than the mere words implied. And yet, she hung in the limbo of disbelief for a heartbeat or two. But then he peeled her hands off his shirt and gave Abigail an intense look before Abigail’s head turned to Savigne as if she hadn’t been standing there all along and a blush crept on her face which was what really sealed the truth. 

“I…I’m sorry,” Abigail stammered, “I meant…I’m sorry, but…” her head swiveled back to him, Savigne already forgotten and her voice rose again, “John is useless, you have to find him. For me!” 

He took her elbow and marched her off as Savigne sat down on the chair, feeling a rush as if she had sleepwalked and opened her eyes to find herself standing at the edge of an abyss. She just sat there, unable to gather her wits that scattered in all directions at once. At some point she noticed that he was looming above her and she looked up, stupefied. 

“Ain’t what you think,” he said quietly, his eyes crawling over her face.

“What did she mean?” she managed.

“Nothing,” he said, voice harder. “I will return and we’ll talk.” 

She didn’t know what to say to that so she mutely nodded before she reached out for the tools she had prepared on the table just to keep her hands busy.

He sighed in frustration and ran a palm through his beard, aware of her efforts to conceal her displeasure. 

“Don’ go runnin’ off,” he said tersely. He was always terse now. Angry and worried and hard. She nodded again and listened to Abigail berating John in the distance. “Ya hear?” She gave him a look and a final sullen nod.

He searched her face for another moment, then turned around to stomp off. 

She went over to Pearson and took a bag of onions and some venison from his stall and then walked back to her own fire to prepare French onion soup, famously a soup that is hearty and rich, but more importantly, a soup that takes a long time to make - in other words, the perfect excuse to disappear to her own corner for hours and lick her wounds. She chopped the meat and added it to the cast iron pot full of water to make the broth. She chopped and added some vegetables, salted it, put it on the fire to boil. The broth was going to take a while so she started to thinly slice the onions. The camp had emptied out and all she could hear now was the wails of Abigail and the hushed tones of the women.

Well, well, well…what do we have here? Another buried little secret.

She continued to slice onions, sniffing as the sharp sting settled in her eyes.

Curious how it never came up.

She tried to focus on the task at hand.

One of them sleeps next to you every night and the other pretends to be your friend. Comes around for gossip. Listens to your confessions. Hundreds of hours of talking...and neither said a thing.

She huffed with disdain. He had said it was nothing, hadn’t he?

People don’t make a concerted effort to hide ‘nothing’.

She put a cast iron skillet on the fire, added some butter and watched it sizzle.

How awkward for you, Savigne. How sad that nobody entrusted you with this information.

She put the onions in the skillet and stirred occasionally to caramelize them.

Really makes you wonder what people think of you around here. The village idiot would be a fair assumption.

She added salt and pepper.

Doesn't it feel rewarding - to be patient and understanding through tough times, only to be slapped in the face at the end? 

The soup took a long time to cook. She saved some for Arthur and asked Pearson to help her carry the cast iron pot back to camp to hang it over the fire. As stressed as they were, people trickled in for a bowl one by one. She was going to take some to Abigail but couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Instead, she trudged back to her tent, took a lantern and her shawl and got in the boat and rowed out far enough so she wouldn’t hear the camp mayhem. She lied down in the boat and looked up at the stars while it swayed gently in the water. The Moon was bright, the sky a Prussian blue and the air clear. Her mind went still for the first time in hours and she relaxed, thinking about her predicament. 

Here she was, facing the truth she had managed to evade all these months: she was more than eager to finally leave the gang, and the inevitable price was that this also meant leaving Arthur.

In hindsight it was all very obvious. This was always the juncture she was going to end up at. The moment she had dived into this maelstrom, it was always going to spit her out right here. Her emotions, her want had clouded her vision, but looking at it now from a great height, the curvature of the path and the crossroads it led to were clear and unmistakable. It made no difference if she hobbled on for another day, a week or a month - she was predestined to stand in the very same spot regardless, facing the very same choice. So if she was smart about it, she would do it sooner rather than later. Pack her things and leave. Today. Tonight. Everyone had left, it was easier now than it would be tomorrow morning. Nobody would even notice with the way things were right now. One could easily argue that it was self-preservation, given the state of things.

But...

She would be devastated if it was done to her, how could she even entertain the idea of doing it to him? After everything they had shared, running off in the cover of dark? Running without an explanation. Inexcusable. Cowardly. Unfair. 

The siren call of just another day rung in her ears. Another night spent in the familiarity and comfort of the bed she had come to think of as her own, in the tent that had become her home, waking up next to the man she loved. So ridiculously strong, that call. But she feared that if she fell into its stupor, she would stay tomorrow. And the day after. And then the week. Then it would be Sunday and time for Valentine and then it would be Monday and she would start to think that the end of the month made more sense, and so on and so forth.

She distantly wondered where her pride had disappeared to, because now all she found was weakness. Fragility. Emotional hubris. All things considered, she was no Mary, was she? Because that required strength of character, determination, resolve. No, she was Molly; hanging around a man, hoping things will magically resolve themselves in the end and she can have him to herself. Or Abigail: someone who stuck around an intolerable life because she loved a man who loved the gang more than he loved her. 

Ah yes…Abigail.

She thought of all her conversations with Abigail and felt like a prime fool, sitting there and confiding in her, not knowing she and Arthur had had a relationship. It was never said, never mentioned, never insinuated. She thought back into her memories to see if the power of hindsight would reveal any secret glances and exchanged smiles and knowing looks between them. Then she thought of him bucking into her as she arched with mewling gasps and her face flushed. All sorts of scenes played out in her head, each more lewd than the next. Abigail probably knew what she was doing, she must have wrung out impressive groans and whimpers from him, the likes she would never hear. And afterwards, in her mind’s eye, they lied, drenched and tangled, making fun of gang members, grinning in the afterglow. Her head spun as she remembered how Abigail had insisted how perfect Savigne was for Arthur, how happy she made him. All the while probably playing out their own coupling in her head. 

She wanted to stay sympathetic to her in light of her current plight, but found it very, very hard. 

She lied in that boat for a long time time, feeling small and miserable and unrecognizable. In one scale was everything detestable about this place and its people. And in the other - Arthur Morgan. The choice was simple and yet, maddeningly, the scales were at perfect balance, refusing her an easy choice. Because the heart wanted what it wanted and apparently that weighed a lot more than it should. 

By the time she heard the thunder of hooves, she was all cried out. Usually this was where her rage would come in. In its place now: a strange deflated hollowness. She watched the yelling and shouting and blaming from the distance and knew that they hadn’t managed to find Jack. But of course. Because when it rains, it pours. 

She recognized Arthur’s dark silhouette stalk towards the tent and eventually to the edge of the lake. He called out to her and she sighed and took the oars. For a split second she looked behind her and contemplated rowing away from all of it. To new horizons, as they said. It was a moment when anything seemed possible. But then it passed, she turned the boat around and rowed back towards the pier. 

He was waiting to tie the boat, then offered his hand to pull her out. Neither of them said anything as he led her back to their tent. There was a heavy smell of fire, smoke and gunpowder wafting off of him. 

When they arrived, she untangled her hand to walk over to reheat his soup while he went to wash his face and arms and change his shirt. Eventually she pulled the soup out and prepared the table for him. He seemed surprised that she had and reluctant to eat, but eventually he sat down and spooned the soup in his usual no nonsense manner, eyes flicking up to her every now and then, watching her drink her wine. 

He explained what happened at Braithwaite Manor and where Jack was without being prompted. It was a rare thing for him to explain gang business but she sensed that he was attempting to ease into talking about more difficult things. When he said the name Bronte, an expression flew over her face and he asked if she knew him. She told him that everyone in Saint Denis knew who he was and told him as much as she knew, swirling her wine glass. ‘Cosa Nostra’, she said, and ‘dangerous man’ and ‘owns a lot of important people in high places’. This development darkened her mood even further because things seemed to be escalating very quickly now. Bronte was a big fish and it was hubris for the gang to try to tango with someone like him. 

When he was done he pushed the bowl away, ran a hand through his hair, and placed his elbows on the table. She didn’t say anything and didn’t look at him, listening to the hushed tension coming from the camp. All she felt was an odd pointlessness. As if nothing was worth the effort of doing it anymore. 

He cleared his throat and moved his chair closer. “She’s a mother and had a crazy day…” he started. “She don’ know what she…” 

Savigne grimaced and looked away and he swallowed the rest of his words. A long moment passed as he let a breath out of his nose, palming his beard again. 

“Was a long time ago,” he mumbled at long last. “Meant nothing.” 

She swallowed and nodded, knowing it wasn’t her business but feeling betrayed anyway. Betrayed because it had been hidden from her and wounded because when it finally was revealed, it was explained as a non issue. Like she was a fool for being upset about, like she didn’t have the right to be hurt by it.

“Look at me,” he said softly. When she refused, his fingers gently gripped her chin and turned her head. “It. Meant. Nothing.” An explanation so banal, the lack of effort was downright offensive.

“Meant something to her,” she said, surprised that her voice not only held, but sounded firm. “Since she brought it up.” 

He released her chin and swiped his fingers over his lips, annoyed. “No. She just half crazy right now, is all.” 

She took a sip from her wine and pressed her lips. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Cause it meant nothing!” he said, irritated. A long moment passed. His irritation just added to her offense. “Savigne, I can’t think of this right now. There’s a lot goin’ on.”

She knew it was true and still balked at the idea of being yet again overshadowed by gang business.

Why so surprised? You were always secondary.

“Then don’t,” she shrugged.

“Don’ wanna but…you’re…hung up.” He watched her face. “When we have Jack back, we can talk proper.”

“Why bother?” She rose from her seat, unwilling to listen to his bullshit anymore and walked into the tent. He followed a moment later and found her undressing. He pulled the flap shut and stepped closer, hesitant to say anything. She undressed down to her chemise and bloomers and sank down in front of the mirror to take out the pins in her hair. 

“What ya doin'?” was his quiet question. 

“Going to bed. Have to work tomorrow.” 

He shifted on his feet. “Gonna talk to Dutch. See when we will take care of all this. I’ll let ya know.”

How chivalrous of him to update you when he will have time for you. You should clear your calendar.

She got under the covers and he came to sit on the bed, giving her a long look. “I understand yer upset. But I promise ya…” 

She turned her back to him, shoulders stiff. “You have more important things to worry about than my feelings.” 

He huffed in frustration. “Woman, don’ do this now. I ‘ave a lot on my mind.” 

“You always do,” she sighed. “And you always will.” 

“What’s that mean?” 

“Nothing. Let me sleep.” 

After a while she felt the mattress shift, the lantern go dark and heard him leave the tent to go back to the gang and she felt glad for it. She pushed everything out of her head and closed her eyes. To her own amazement she fell asleep soon after, her inner voice suspiciously quiet. 

She woke up the next morning feeling rather empty. Disassociated. Checked out. It was both odd but also liberating to have this strange barrier between herself and the world now. She should be more worried about Jack but it felt distant, like something she read in a novel. She should be more worried about Abigail’s pain but as embarrassing as it sounded, she wasn’t. She should definitely be more upset about the tension between herself and Arthur, but the most she could muster was cold detachment.

Why worry about these things when they were temporary? None of these people would be part of her life for much longer.

She got up and started to get dressed and heard him shift to sit up on the edge of the bed as she sank down in front of the mirror to adjust her hair. 

“Ya okay?” he asked. He looked tired and disheveled.

“Sure.”

“You know where this guy lives?”

Everyone in Saint Denis knew, so she told him.

He nodded. “We gonna go to see Bronte today. Fix it.” His eyes found hers through the mirror. “We can talk after.” 

“I don’t want to talk,” she said quietly, setting the pins. 

He blinked. “Why?” 

Because the time to talk was months ago, she thought but didn’t say it. “You already said your piece.” 

“But ya haven’t,” he said quietly, eyeing her. He seemed spooked and thrown off guard by her calmness, trying to decipher it and failing. Frankly, she was surprised by her own reaction too, but she welcomed it over anger and despair.   

“I have nothing to say,” she offered finally.

He exhaled in frustration and ran his hands over his face.

"Course you have. You should. You're my..."

"Don't say it!" she cut him off sharply and he froze. You haven’t been acting like it so don’t say it, she thought. "Also, I know Jack is more important. You don't have to remind me every five minutes." She sat on the chair and laced up her boots. 

"I will fix that today," he repeated patiently. "And then..."

"Then there will be other problems," she finished. 

He blinked at her, wary. The lack of his attention on her for this past week and more was made obvious to Savigne when it rushed in now, filling the vacuum all heavy and intense. He sat there, silent and stiff, eyes crawling over her like searchlights.

“I hope you find him,” she said. He swallowed and looked at her with that custom concentration, probably dwelling on the fact that there were no “be careful”s and “good luck”s and hushed awkward assurances. She simply grabbed her satchel and left. 

The day flew by in a rush, she barely remembered what she did. Suddenly it was afternoon and her shift was over. On a normal day she would head back to camp, but today she went to the harbor and sat watching people unload the ships. She read their names and wondered where they came from and where they were heading. A silly temptation to board one to leave for a new life, new job, new…love. But she was too much of a coward to try so she just sat on, a spectator. After that she went to one of her favorite restaurants and had dinner. Food that would normally strum her strings of pleasure was bland and lacking, riddled with weird nuances. Then she still didn’t feel like returning to the gloomy atmosphere of the camp and went to a saloon to have a glass of wine. Then another.

A part of her was amazed how calm she was. Jack could be dead. Hell, even Arthur could be dead right now. She shuddered at the idea and bit back a sob. The thing that unnerved her more than anything was that she had no control over either of these things. And if it didn’t happen today it could happen tomorrow. It was like playing Russian roulette every day - so terrifying and draining that at some point it became impossible to process.

She drank wine until someone sent her a drink, then she got up without acknowledging it and left the saloon. The dark outside the door surprised her. Usually she avoided traveling after dark but tonight she didn’t care if she ran into O’Driscolls. She mounted Cricket, swayed a bit on the saddle and trotted out. It was very late when she arrived in camp. She heard the celebratory ruckus before she saw it and her heart felt lighter with the meaning of it. She stood by Cricket, feeding him an apple and relishing the fact that today, too, the chamber had held no bullet.

“Yer late,” she heard Arthur behind her and jumped a little. “Where ya been?” His voice had that annoying scolding timbre and she chose not to answer. Guess I'm not invisible anymore, she thought with rancor.

She unsaddled Cricket and he stepped up, taking it from her. She stalked into camp and walked towards the gang, singing and dancing around the fire. Jack spotted her and ran over. 

“Hey,” she smiled, placing her hands on her knees. “How have you been, my clever friend?” He immediately started to prattle about his time with Bronte and she said all the right things, grinning happily and listening to his excited babbling, ruffling his hair. How resilient children were! She had been too when she was one. You would think life made you stronger, but in a way, it made you more brittle.

“Do you know how to make worms?” was Jack’s sudden question.

“Worms?” she came out of her stupor.

“Yeah. Papa Bronte gave me some, they were delicious!” 

Her face brightened with understanding. “Sure, I can make you some.” 

He jumped up and down with delight and she ruffled his hair again. Skirts appeared in the corner of her eye and she straightened to find Abigail beside her.

“Hi Savigne,” she said, wringing her hands. Savigne smiled a fake smile at her fake friend. Abigail’s blue eyes scanned her face and didn’t find the sympathy she was hoping for. She felt Arthur’s presence behind her. 

“I’m sorry,” the other woman said. “Think I made a mess. Hope you don’ think less of me.” 

“I’m very happy for you,” was the cool response. 

Abigail eyed her with unease and nodded, hugging Jack against her legs. “Thank you! Was going a little crazy.” There was a forced chuckle. Her eyes flitted over Savigne’s shoulder and then back. “I want to apologize...” she started. The way they communicated silently in her presence turned her stomach sour. “Wasn’t my intention to…” 

Savigne was too tired to listen to her mop up efforts. Abigail was all happy again, had gotten what she wanted and now she wanted to mend fences. Well, Savigne was fine with those fences, thank you very much, so she dismissively waved the attempt away and started to walk to her tent. The other woman pressed her lips, gave Arthur another furtive glance and remained where she was. 

She entered the tent, still buzzing from the wine and went around to align things to their perfect positions. Arthur cleared his throat behind her and closed the flap. Savigne sank in front of the mirror and released her hair from the bun, gliding her fingers through her locks and sighing in contentment while he sat at the table watching her. 

“You wanna sit with me?” he said carefully. 

“I’m going to go to bed. It’s late.”

“Sit with me.” When she didn’t react: “You always say I should talk more and now you don’ wanna listen. I wanna talk, sit with me.”

Of course, she thought, now he wants to talk. Because now it's my turn to be 'fixed'. She sighed to herself and shot him a glare through the mirror. Then she got up and sat across from him, tenting her fingers in front of her. He gave her a long look and she held it while he fished for a cigarette. 

“Congratulations on getting Jack back home,” she said flatly. He nodded and shifted in his seat. Her missing reaction of waiting in camp, worrying about him and embracing him when he returned and asking him if he was okay hung between them. 

She rose to get the whiskey and two shot glasses and sat back down as he watched her through the smoke. She filled them and handed him one. “To the health of the gang,” she quipped. 

A muscle flexed on his jaw but he clinked his glass against hers and drank the shot. She surprised him by doing the same, shuddering and smacking her lips with disgust. She filled the glasses again but he didn’t reach for his. She threw her right arm on the back of the chair and leaned back. Her head jabbed towards the jubilation in the distance. “You’re missing the celebration.” 

“This here more important,” he said, eyes flicking up to her. 

She took a sip from her whiskey. “Doubt that.” 

“M sorry,” he said at long last, his eyes trying to drive his sincerity home. He was a lot more relaxed than he had been yesterday. Well good for him, hallelujah, Savigne thought bitterly. “Was years ago. It was just…relief. Nothin’ more.” He scratched his beard when she didn’t respond. “I was in a bad place and Abigail offered…company. Was a job to her.” 

She sipped her whiskey as he eyed her with unease.

“Ya gonna say somethin’?” 

“What do you want me to say?” 

“I know yer mad at me.” 

She shrugged as if to say ‘so what?’. 

“Savigne,” he said gravely, “Please say yer piece.” 

“Why do you care?”

“Course I care,” he blinked at her.

It turned her stomach, to be the center of his attention only when all other business was done. Like she had become a fixture in his life that he only noticed when he reached for her and she wasn’t there anymore.

“Could have fooled me,” she mumbled to herself.

“I know I been rough,” he sighed. So he wasn’t completely oblivious, at least there was that. “Was a lot going on. Could have handled it better. But was trying to keep us separate…clean from all that.”

Touching. His excuse was that he was enforcing her own rule and probably also feeling very noble about it. 

“Had a lot to think about,” he pressed on. “A lot to…come to grips with. Just needed some time.”

She looked away.

“Didn' wanna cloud yer mind with that nonsense, all that got nothin' to do with us.” He waited for a response that never came. “But this here does. Wanna clear it up. Talk to me.”

“Told you over and over again: I don’t want to talk,” she sighed.

“Why?” was the impatient question.

“It’s all meaningless. Just leads to more lies.” 

He gave her a long, intense look. “Ain’t all lies,” he said finally, leaning on the table. “I speak true. Was years ago. Didn’ mean a thing. I haven’t thought of her like that so long, didn’ think it mattered. You talk to Abigail, she’ll tell ya the same.” She snorted as if to say ‘of course she would’ but he ignored it: “I wanna fix this.” 

“You can’t fix how someone feels,” she drawled, inspecting her nails. “And you really shouldn’t abuse a person’s trust repeatedly. It doesn’t grow back quite the same.” She looked at him from under her eyebrows. “First time, with Mary, I was disappointed, surprised. Now I guess I’m just used to it.” 

He reeled back as if she had slapped him, running a hand over his beard. “Don’ know what yer spinning in that head o’yours but it was plain fucking. No different than going to a…saloon.” 

“If I told you that I fucked Charles before you and I were a thing, how would you feel?” 

His head jerked up at that, eyes brimming with shock. “Scuse me?” he said slowly. 

She watched his reaction. “If I told you ‘it was just fucking’…would that make it better?” 

His jaw clenched so hard she could hear the click of his teeth and it gave her immense satisfaction.

“I…did you?” he chocked out. 

She sipped her whiskey to cruelly prolong the tension. 

“No. But you’re missing the point.”

He blinked and ran his hand through his hair with a huff. A long while later he nodded imperceptibly. 

“Okay then, that’s exactly how I feel,” she said simply. 

“Should ‘ave told you,” he clenched his jaw. “Reason I didn’t, cause she ashamed of that part of her life. And I ain’t proud either. I was in a bad place, drunk for a year, barely ‘member it. Didn’t wanna go dig up old bones.” She didn’t answer, just played with her shot glass. “I need ya to understand, this was before she was with John. It was what she did for money. I ain’t judging or nothing, but was no affair, was no feelings. Just a…” 

“Transaction?” she suggested. 

“Yes. I had a rough patch. I just….needed it,” he finished lamely. “Like I said, was no different than going to a…” he cleared his throat and didn’t continue. 

“Then how come she thinks it’s more?” He looked at her, confused. “She brought it up, didn’t she? She bartered it for your aid. If it’s a simple transaction…” her lips bowed down, “…there was no debt. You got to fuck and she got her money.” She relished how the intentionally harsh and crude choice of words rolled off her tongue. 

“Ain’t nothin’ more. I helped a bit with Jack when John disappeared. Might be she got confused,” he shrugged uncomfortably. “She loves John, that’s for damn sure. He ran off for a year, leavin’ her with a baby...” He sighed and looked away. “She leaned on me and I let her. For Jack. That’s all.” 

“So you played family with her and you wonder why she thinks the way she thinks.” 

“Was I supposed to abandon her, too?” He rolled his shoulders. “Felt bad for the kid. You been doing the same, ain’t ya?” 

“Well yeah, but I didn’t fuck his dad.” 

This irritated him but he visibly pushed his irritation down. “I never touched her again,” he said, looking her in the eye. “And don’ wanna.” There was a bout of silence. “Ya believe me?” She didn’t answer. He clenched his jaw. 

She sniffed and pushed her shot glass around. “How do you think I feel, stumbling on these women by coincidence and then listening to you lecturing me on how I’m blowing things out of proportion?” 

He took a deep breath and snuffed out his cigarette in the tray. “Reckon it ain’t great.” 

“That’s one way to put it,” she said. 

“Won’t happen again,” he said firmly, eyes flicking up at her. 

She exhaled a long breath and looked away. 

“Look at me.” When she did: “Won’t. Happen. Again.” he repeated, pressing on each word. Then he sighed at the disbelief in her face. “Gonna tell Abigail she needs to go to John here on out. Think it’s better. For everyone.” 

Savigne shrugged, feeling petty. “Why? She’s perfect.” He looked up at her, confused. She drank her glass dry: 

“Let’s see…She’s part of the gang, so you’re more aligned,” she started counting on her fingers. “Good in bed - judging by your actions, I mean. Likes you. More importantly, needs you; comes to you for everything instead of the ‘man she loves’. Has a son you can be father to...” She gave him a cool look. “Ridiculously well matched if you ask me. I say you have a decent shot.” He just stared, speechless. “I can’t give you all that,” she grimaced. “If John doesn’t want to play dad…I say here’s your chance.” 

“Woman, ya hear yerself speak?” he managed finally, a spark of anger flaring up in his eyes. 

“If you put up my tent,” she continued, her tone heating up, “You can have this one for your family. Lots of room for three. I bet she would love that. Maybe-” 

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” he boomed suddenly. She flinched and shrunk from his fury, sobering a little. 

He downed his second glass of whiskey and wiped his beard to come down from his ire. 

“I know it ain’t fair you found out as you did,” he growled a while later. “Makes it look like we was hiding it. Like there was more to it. Truth is, I haven’t thought of her like that so long, didn’ think it mattered.”

Again, that insinuation that she was making a mountain out of a molehill. That she was being unreasonable and naggy and spoiling everyone’s good mood.

“Are we done?”

“No.” was the sharp answer. His desperation at her lack of interest to engage was ironically amusing. The less she wanted to talk, the more anxious he seemed to get. He certainly didn't accuse her of chirping too much now, did he?

“What do you want from me?” she asked, exasperated. 

“Want you to tell me you believe me.” 

She casually said “I believe you.” 

He gave her a dry look. “Want you to mean it.” 

“So this is all about you feeling better about yourself! I need to get over myself because you’re sad. I need to act like it’s nothing so you can sleep better.” 

“Woman, it is nothing. I done explained it to ya.”

It left her speechless for a moment, his lack of empathy.

“Doesn’t it matter that I’m hurt?” was her incredulous question.

“Course it matters. Why I’m here, explaining.”

“No it fucking doesn’t,” she hissed. “You don’t care about my feelings, you think they’re trivial. Silly.”

“That ain’t true,” he growled. “Said 'm sorry. Said it won' happen again. Said it was just a…”

“Yes, I know, just a transaction…” she said icily, rolling her empty glass back and forth under her palm. “Just fucking. Same as us.”

He froze at that, taken aback. “Might be,” he said carefully, “that first time. But it ain’t what we doin’ since.” 

“You sure about that?” was her heated retort.

“Course I’m sure! What ya even tryin’ to say?” his voice rose again. 

“Well if we’re taking your word for it, that things can change. That it doesn’t always stay transactional.” 

“That ain’t happened between me and Abigail,” he said sharply. 

“Would you even tell me if it did?” she snorted. “Maybe that’s going to be next month’s discovery.”

He grew impatient. “I get that you think my word ain’t worth shit, but this here ain’t gonna work without trust.” 

She leaned back, playing with the empty glass in her left hand. All manner of sharp things flitted through her head. Things to say to end it all triumphantly, a last smack to his face, revenge for him lecturing her about trust. The nerve! When she had done nothing to make him doubt her and this was the second woman that was revealed to her by pure coincidence! The anger that had been missing all this time settled on her shoulders at last like a flock of dark crows, cawing in her ear. Fire erupted in her chest. 

She looked up at him with blazing eyes, chest heaving. She drew a big breath and opened her mouth when he sensed her intent. 

“Don’t,” he interjected, palms up to calm her. “Savigne…don’t.”

“Don’t…fucking…tell me…what to DO!” she screamed and smashed her glass on the table and it exploded in her grasp, biting into her left hand. A momentary shock, then he was on his feet, coming around. She looked stupidly at the blood welling from her palm, frozen. He grabbed her wrist and pulled it to himself, inspecting it before he started to pick shards and dropping them on the table. She gaped at the amount of blood pooling, her head fuzzy with alcohol. 

“Keep it like that,” he barked and strode to the crates, flipping the covers and rummaging through them in haste. “The hell is the…” 

“The single crate in the back,” she muttered, hypnotized by the shade of red. 

“Gimme yer hand.” 

“No. I can do it mys-” 

He snatched her wrist and refused to let go. They had a short tug of war over it but, unsurprisingly, he won. He uncorked the whiskey and gave her a look. “This is gonna sting. Don’ close yer fist.” 

She gave him a hostile look. The ‘sting’ was more like liquid fire and she yelped, trying to retrieve her hand but he was expecting it and held it firm. “It’s done. Don’ close,” he soothed. 

He picked a few more shards, then took a cloth, drenched it in whiskey and gently pressed it against her palm. “Just another moment,” he said quietly when she hissed. He pressed down, her palm small between his hands and held it for a long moment. Then he checked the napkin and dropped it on the table, grabbing the bandages to gently wrap them around her hand. The blood flow was much diminished but red flowers still bloomed on the first layers of bandage. He ripped the end with his teeth and knotted the bandage, his eyes flicking up to her face. 

“Ya okay?” She nodded. “Cut yer tongue, too?” 

“I’m okay,” she whispered, squirming at the throbbing pain that started to drum in her palm.

He sighed, half relieved, half irritated. “No more whiskey for you,” he grumbled. 

She cradled her hand, feeling like crying for no reason, but managed not to. Her nerves sizzled with alcohol, pain, shock and anger.

“It’s fine, ain’t too deep,” he said, aiming for a softer tone. When he placed a palm on her lower back she shot up to walk to the bed. "Think we're both tired," he eyed her warily as she sat down to unlace her boots single handed. When she didn’t answer: "Want me to get water?"

"No."

He sighed and and came to help but she slapped his hands away. “Don’t touch me or I’m leaving.”

He pulled back, surprised by her sharp tone and watched her crawl to lie as close to the other side of the bed as she physically could and fall asleep with her clothes on.

[jamiesfootball]

Augusnippets Day 2

Platonic Bathing, Hair Care

cw: none. this is pure fluff

Summary:

"Suppose that's the one good thing about being injured: you get to skip the ice bath."

Here on AO3

Dani hummed contentedly as he slid further down the lip of the soaking tub.

"Feeling good there, muchacho?"

"Yes," he answered, the final letter thick on his tongue. "You should join me, amigo. The heat is wonderful. Much better than the recovery pods."

Jamie chuckled. "No doubt. Suppose that's the one good thing about being injured: you get to skip the ice bath. Here, lift your head up."

With tremendous effort, Dani forced himself to sit upright. He shifted his thigh to the side so that Jamie could refill the small ice bucket he’d confiscated from the minibar. Jamie dragged the bucket through the water, and Dani watched, mesmerised by how the swirl of his tattoos shattered under the ripples. When his arm broke back through the surface, trails of suds dripped down to his elbow, and that too was a collage of beauty: all tensed muscle and delicate lines of ink painted over with bubbles on a landscape.

Dani had never considered himself much of a photographer – the majority of the photos he took were of friends and family – but the sight of his friend, with his grey t-shirt clinging wet and his lip bit tight in concentration, filled Dani with a love so strong that he yearned to be able to capture the memory of it in his heart forever. 

Dani was also on very good drugs.

He swiped his arm out lazily. As if by magic, his fingers found Jamie's wrist, and they slotted around the bones and taper like a mountain climber grasping for purchase on the rocks.

Cruelly, Jamie pulled away. "Hang on there, let me finish this first. Can’t have you getting all tangled up. Now come on, be a lad for me, yeah? Eyes closed."

Huffing, Dani closed his eyes. He was rewarded. Nudging him to tilt his head back, Jamie slowly tipped the water over his hair. His fingers were careful as they combed through the strands, helping the blissfully warm water to rinse him clean.

Where the soap ran down Dani's shoulders, his bruises tingled. The bubbles were feather light, nothing capable of hurt, but the sensation awoke nerves that had been blissfully rendered mute with the application of magic spray and painkillers. From what Dani had briefly glimpsed in the mirror, the bruising would be spectacular by morning.

But that was tomorrow. Tonight, the water was blissfully, painfully hot against the swollen ache of his ribs, and Dani wanted for nothing.

"There we go!" Jamie clicked his tongue, a happy noise that made Dani smile. A clatter echoed through the bathroom as the plastic bucket was tossed somewhere across the tile. "Clean as a whistle. I'd condition it for you, but our bags ain't been brought up yet. Unless you want me to go grab 'em...?"

His voice trailed off in a question. Perhaps Dani wanted for one thing.

"Stay?" he asked. Once more, Dani tried to catch his friend before he could leave, but this time the bruises won the battle. With a sobering splash, his arm flopped limply back into the water.

Jamie fished his arm back out. Deft hands undid the gauze wrapped around his palm. The abrasions were minor, but still his friend skipped the terry towel in favour of patting it dry with the soft cotton front of his shirt. Once satisfied, Jamie manoeuvred Dani's arm into a more comfortable position against his side, but he kept a hold of his hand, twining their thumbs together so that Dani wouldn't slip under the surface again.

Finally, Jamie cleared his throat. "Sure. Yeah, I can stay,"

He gave Dani's hand a quick squeeze. Then, in an equally quick motion, he pressed his forehead against the back of their entwined hands.

"I can stay," he repeated, his voice rich with the same beauty as his tattoos under dappled water. "I'm here all night. You want me to turn the jets on?"

Dani smiled. He closed his eyes. "Yes. Thank you, amigo."

He did not need to see to hear the love in his friend's voice. "Whatever you need, muchacho."

[miyuhpapayuh]

You've been missed.

Odell Beckham Jr as Ryan

"I shouldn't even be calling you, right now...." Tyra stresses, staring down at her deep navy nails.

"Then, why are you?" Ryan asks, with a slight slur in his words. He had been drinking and her calling was the icing on the cake for him.

"Can you just come over? I don't wanna do this over the phone."

He sighs, heavily. "Aight. Give me ten."

She hangs up and tosses her phone beside her.

This has been the third sporadic time this month, she'd decided to call him up to have him fulfill her needs, which he secretly enjoyed. Maybe even a little more than she did.

She stands up from her bed and walks towards her full-length mirror, fixing her midnight blue lingerie set against her mahogany complexion.

Her phone buzzes with a single text message. She picks her phone up and smirks, feeling his impatience radiate through the screen.

🙄 Bring yo ass downstairs.

Pulling her black robe up from her chair and slipping it on, she heads downstairs and unlocks her front door, finding him leaning against the doorframe.

"Wassup, mama?" He walks inside, causing her to walk backwards. He closes the door behind himself and wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close to him.

"I missed you." She pouts, running her finger along the gold chain adorning his neck.

He wears a smirk that's currently making her insides do somersaults. "I know you did, babygirl. I missed yo pretty ass, too."

"You ain't sound like it on the phone." Her brows furrow. He licks his lips, before kissing hers.

"Cause you be tryna act like you don't know what you want. You can ask for this dick, anytime you want, you know that." A smile spreads across her lips, before she can stop it.

"You're annoying."

"Mhm, my annoying ass bout to put you to sleep."

Picking her up, he tosses her over his shoulder and heads upstairs, into her room. Placing her on the bed, he pulls his shirt over his head and climbs on top of her, pushing the robe away from her shoulder.

"Oh, it's like that? You must be feenin'." His arrogance would usually get on her nerves, but in this moment, it made her wetter.

Instead of responding, she grabs his chin and presses her lips against his, moaning into his mouth.

Snatching the robe off completely, his lips find her neck and begin working on her sweet spot. Her hands slide down his chest and unbutton his jeans, tugging them down.

Pushing her hands away, he slides down on his knees and pulls her panties to the side, salivating at the sight of her nectar covered lips.

Placing his thumb on her clit, he rubs it in circles, while she stares down at him through her lashes.

"She missed you, daddy..." running her hand over his curls, she purrs and moves her hips against his hand.

"I see that shit. You wet as hell." Removing his hand, he places a kiss on her clit, causing her hips to jerk.

"Stop playin'..."

Ryan smirks and removes her panties, before running his tongue along her slit. Her mouth falls open and her thighs quiver slightly.

"Fuck..." his tongue wraps around her bud, sucking hard enough to make her eyes roll back, then soft enough to make her moans rise in volume.

"Unh! I missed your mouth on me... fuck!" Tyra's voice squeaks at the end of her sentence, due to him covering her entire mound with his wet mouth, running his tongue up and down her folds.

"Oh my God—" her hands push at his shoulders, trying to push him away from her sopping wet core. Ryan's hands grip her hips, keeping her in place.

"I'm gonna cum!" Her head falls back onto the bed as her orgasm rises quickly. She drapes a leg over his shoulder, beginning to twist underneath him.

"Ohh fuck! I'm cumming!" Pushing her leg up, Ryan continues to slurp her honey, while she cries out and scoots away from him.

Ryan stands up and pushes his jeans and briefs the rest of the way down, allowing Tyra to catch her breath. Soon enough, his thick rod makes an appearance and her second set of lips slick all over again at the sight.

"Come here, daddy." She purrs, dragging her hand down her body. Obliging, he pulls her towards the edge of the bed and glides into her without a second thought.

Tyra's eyes flutter shut, and her mouth falls open. Ryan stills inside of her, gripping her thigh to sustain his self-control.

"God dammit, girl." Wasting not a single minute, he begins to thrust into her, heavily. Her fingers wrap around his wrist, squeezing tightly.

"Ah ssss—shit! Just like that, baby."

Pulling her leg onto his waist, Ryan bites her skin and picks up speed, much to Tyra's liking. Her praises fill his ears like his favorite song, while her nails find his chest and leave scratches behind.

"You love this dick?"

"Yes!"

"Say that shit."

"I love it— I love this dick, babyyy!" She pulls him down to her level, sliding her tongue into his mouth, moaning at the sweet taste of her left behind.

Retracting his hips, Ryan begins slamming into her, jacking her breathing up. His hand finds her neck, cutting off the rest of her oxygen and sending her body into a frenzy.

His lips find her ear, mumbling the nastiest shit she's ever heard him say. Her chest caves as her walls do the same, closing in on him.

"You're so deep.... so deep..."

"You want me to stop?"

"No!— don't stop!"

"Say it, again."

"Don't stop! Oh my God, please don't stop!"

His thrusts continue to make her core tighten. She grips the back of his neck, feeling her peak crashing towards her.

"I'm cumming!" Her walls suck him into a tight grip as her climax hits.

Before she can fully react, she's on her knees, arched perfectly for his taking.

"You ain't think I was done, did you?" He asks against of her ear.

Enjoy!

@soufcakmistress @504queen @ghostfacekill-monger @hearteyes-for-killmonger @uzumaki-rebellion @l-auteuse @blowmymbackout @supersizemeplz @chaneajoyyy

@captainsaveasmut @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @daddy-killmonger @twistedcharismaaa @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @headcannonxgalore @quietstorm-thundathighs @sheabuttahwrites @thegifstories @smollettmajors @becauseimswagman1 @cecereads209 @nayaxwrites @xsweetdellzx @blackburnbook @darqchilddaydreamz @killmongerdispussy @brattyfics @mochachocolatayayaa @sadthotsonlylove @emjayewrites

[avvail-whumps]

Oh my God your latest ask just gave me the idea that Leo would run away, be successful in that escape, but end up in the clutches of another whumper who's like Roy in profession but not in personality, like a little more soft and intimate but still like rly dangerous but Leo like doesn't realize it and before he knows it like 3 months later he's become his housewife (idk how else to describe it) and hes too far into it to try and get out because he literally can't and maybe this whumper and Roy KNOW each other and they hate each other's guts omg I know this is your story but I'm having so much fun imagining this scenario I'm sry I'm super excited to see what else you have in store and if my idea helps you then uh I ain't complaining lol

Roy had never been one for sharing.

Maybe it was the competitive streak in his chest, or the gruelling independence that led him to seizing any opportunity he could. He was no stranger to fighting for the things he wanted, especially contracts.

So maybe it was when he strolled into Shann’s house, already in a completely foul mood just from having to endure the man’s presence, that the visceral anger had ignited the way it did.

Because leaving the kitchen, was a face he recognised all too well.

Roy had actually paused. His footsteps slowed to a stop, cold eyes pinned onto that baby face he liked to bloody up and watch crinkle into tears. Leo had gone rigid upon seeing him, hands tightening around the tray he was holding.

It was a filled with a pot of fresh tea and cups, and Roy’s jaw clenched in annoyance once the situation became abhorrently clear. He felt Shann’s eyes on him, breaking his train of thought.

“Something the matter?” He hummed. Roy looked away from the blond with a sharp glare, making his distaste about the arrangement known. The two weren’t on good terms; never had been. But this was the icing on the cake, taking something that was his.

Roy evened himself out, and out of the corner of his eye, he watched Leo scurry off into the living room. A huge, open space, the entire front wall made from glass, revealing the yard outside.

“No,” he spoke sharply. “Let’s get this over with.”

Shann hummed. He, too, watched Leo go with something glimmering in his eye that Roy didn’t like. Because despite having lost his lion, he didn’t need him in anybody else’s clutches, let alone a competitor like Shann, who he disliked more than anybody else.

“Do you know each other, perhaps?” The man spoke as they entered the living room, eyes pinned on Leo. Roy could sense his discomfort, the little panic and worry in his eyes that he always tried to hide. Roy took a seat.

“No,” he answered. Clear cut, not wishing to dwell, otherwise he might say something he’ll regret. Leo didn’t dare look in his general direction, hands easing the pot up and beginning to pour the tea.

Shann swiftly stopped him, voice and expression switching into something kind and gentle.

“It’s fine, sweet, I’ll handle that. You keep preparing the food, alright?”

His hand eased along the bottom of his back, finger gently tapping under his chin, and Roy watched Leo’s ears go pink under the bright lighting. His arms abruptly came over his chest, throwing one leg over the other angrily.

“Sweet?” He grit out, spitting out the pet name like dirt on his tongue. Leo was already skittering off with his tail tucked between his legs, disappearing down the hallway and back to the kitchen. Shann hummed, a subtly dangerous smile on his face.

“Well, isn’t he just?” He spoke, pouring tea for them both. “I found him on the side of the road a few weeks ago. Poor thing looked like he’d been run ragged. Was claiming he’d been kidnapped and all.”

Roy’s finger inpatiently tapped against his arm. When Shann pushed his tea towards him, he didn’t move.

“You don’t strike me as the type to keep pets,” he slowly bit out, keeping his eyes off the door. Of all people his lion could run into during his escape, it had to be Shann.

The man scoffed. “He’s not a pet. He just takes orders, and does so very well.” He sipped the tea, gazing at Roy over the rim with a sharp look. “Obedient little thing, isn’t he? I just couldn’t help myself.”

Roy’s eyes darkened. He could sense the way Shann was trying to get under his skin, coax any information out of him that he could. Even just for an excuse to put a bullet in his head right now. He imagined where those invasive hands might have been for all but a second, and he was already growing frustrated.

“I’m not here for hospitality or pleasantries,” he snapped. “Neither are you. So let’s stop delaying, shall we?”

They spoke for some time, until Roy promptly excused himself to go the toilet. He slipped down the corridor, eyeing the light coming from the kitchen, and nimbly headed inside. Leo was quietly and obediently tending to the food as he was told, but a look of absolute horror passed over his face once he saw Roy enter the kitchen.

He began to approach him.

He imagined he might try to swerve away, call for his new master. He invisioned that pained look in his eye and those little whimpering noises he made when he got his hands on him once more.

He wasn’t expecting the lion to drop to his knees by his feet.

“Roy, please,” he whispered shakily, his watery eyes staring up at his with desperation. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for running away, I swear, I won’t—I won’t ever do it again.”

It wasn’t what he’d been expecting. Not in his rage filled mind, not only from managing to escape his grasp, but falling into Shann’s instead, and being at his every beck and call like a little puppy. His face remained stoic, blank, and it made his lion crumble into tears.

“Please!” He begged, his fingers digging into his legs as he shifted closer, visibly shaking now. “Please, help me. Take me away from him, I don’t want to be here anymore. Please, help me, Roy. I’m begging you.”

A twitch of a smile ghosted across his lips. Tears were tumbling down his pale little cheeks, dripping off his chin, and it was delightful how much of a pathetic mess he looked right now. As if appealing to the man’s thoughts, Leo suppressed a sob, his arms clinging around him tightly, squeezing.

“Please,” he choked, shuddering. “I won’t run away again, I promise. Just please—please help me.”

His tilted his head. “What would you have me do, lion?” He drawled, fingers just barely winding through those blond locks. “Do you want me to kill him?”

“I don’t care!” Leo snapped, his head tilting backwards to meet his eyes once more. “Do whatever you want. Just please get me out, I’ll do anything. Absolutely anything.”

And how could he resist his lions request?

Roy didn’t have a problem putting a bullet in the back of Shann’s head, and guiding a shaking, sobbing Leo back to his car. Because, as he’d come to learn, he had definitely never been one for sharing.

[moonillfated]

𝙎𝙏𝘼���𝙈𝘼𝙉 - solarsuit 💥

Happy birthday to the biggest nerd i know @raggedy-dxctor

" ᴰⁱᵈⁿᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ⁱᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ˡᵒʷ ᴵ ˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵐʸ ʳᵃᵈⁱᵒ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶜᵃᵗ ʷᵃˢ ˡᵃʸⁱⁿ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʳᵒᶜᵏ ⁿ ʳᵒˡˡ ᴸᵒᵗᵗᵃ ˢᵒᵘˡ ʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵀʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᵘᵈ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᵈ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃᵈᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ˢˡᵒʷ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ʷᵃᵛᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵖʰᵃˢᵉ ᵀʰᵃᵗ ʷᵃˢⁿᵗ ⁿᵒ ᴰᴶ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʷᵃˢ ʰᵃᶻʸ ᶜᵒˢᵐⁱᶜ ʲⁱᵛᵉ " ⊹★ 🌕 ⭑

"Are ya finally gonna order somethin' else?"

Corin looks up from where their fingers are intertwined around his bottle of 'Trade-Islands' ice tea, the straw has fallen into its long neck and he gave up trying to hook it back out with the toothpick a long time ago. Fingers numb from the icy moisture of the glass, he quickly pushes it towards the bartender, eyes distant and speckled like sunburst marbles and barley malt. He's been nursing the same drink for the past hour or so, and clearly the man working behind the pub table has had enough of watching them wallow like a pig in the mud.

"You ain't from Seattle, are you?" Corin looks at the man in suprise.

"No. How did you-?" The guy points a disinterested finger at the Golden State badge on his denim jacket. "Oh, yeah. I'm not." He mumbles sheepishly, thankfully taking a second pint of sweetened peach tea and letting it cool the mirage on his dry tongue.

"What brings ya all the way out here from Cali?" Corin straightens up, his head briefly looking at the stage before he redirects their attention to the prying man drying off different cocktail glasses. He doesn't understand where the interest is coming from, but inconspicuous small-talk with a stranger might cure the pit of self pity growing in his stomach.

"It's honestly stupid." He scrunches his nose, waving a dismissive gesture between them. "I thought this whole idea I had planned could actually work out, but it just went to shit." The man laughs, loud and cheerful, as if he heard what Corin said a million times before, yet he doesn't stop rubbing with his dirty yellow rag.

"A struggling musician, ey?" He cocks a brow, giving the younger a smirk and side glance. Before Corin has the time to ask, again, how the man knew-

"Your fingers, I know guitar indents when I see em, kid."

"Oh." He subconsciously brings his fingers to rest on his lap and under the man's radar, away from over analyzing eyes.

"Electric or acoustic?"

"Bass."

"A man after my own heart." Corin suppresses a wide grin, his nails tapping against the wooden bartop in a random pattern. The stranger leans against it too, following the movements and rhythm of their clinking. "Are you here with your band?"

"I don't have a band." The words make him want to curl up and cry. "That's what I was hoping to find here, but I guess Seattle didn't make the cut afterall." He doesn't like to admit it, but these trips all over the USA in the past year have driven him to the crumbling realization that there isn't much hope left, he barely has money and playing hitchhiker seems all to useless if he has to buy one more pair of rubber boots. "Think I'll just go back to Ferndale first thing tomorrow," he takes out a wrinkled ten dollar bill and slides it over the counter, "do you know any good motels nearby?"

The man stares at the paper, raising a brow at Corin before smiling. "It's on the house, don't worry 'bout it."

"Are- Are you sure? Really, I don't need this to be charity-"

"I'm offering ya a token of generosity, kid. I'm sure you would pay double over in Cali." He chuckles, nodding towards the door. "There's a cheap place down 54th, can't miss it. Ask for Tammy when you check in, she'll give ya the best room."

Corin gets up from their chair, picking up his satchel from the stool next to him. "Thank you so much, for everything." They smile, waving softly, but stopping once the man began to speak.

"Ya know," He eyes the dimming street outside. "Two is enough."

"What?"

"Two people. That's all a band needs." He tilts his head, greying hair falling in a sweaty fringe over his brooding sage eyes. Corin feels his heart skip with a sense of unsettling intensity.

"Maybe ya had the wrong approach this entire time. You've been searching for a group, someone who already has a history."

Corin doesn't reply, he only digs his sneakers into the creaking planks underneath his soles. He's right. They've been trying to worm their way into trios, desperate duos looking for an amateur lead singer and bassist. But what would one person bring him? He doesn't have much experience, making up for the lack of it with enthusiasm and kindness he hopes submerges the dull reality.

"Try building your own, start from scratch, ya dig? The world is big, kid. Someone will eventually agree to take on a journey with you."

"Well, it doesn't seem like that will happen anytime soon."

"It won't if you keep expecting it." He laughs hoarsely at the confused expression on Corin's face. "The best shit happens when ya least think it'll."

"Thanks for the advice."

"Good luck." He winks, walking over to another customer who seems to be his long-time friend, they bump fists and immediately fall into an animated conversation. Corin watches a for a second, skin clammy and stomach growling, he finally leaves the bar.

The walk to the motel really isn't far, it's short and barely far away for the sun to start completely hiding. Seattle is gorgeous, a smitten orange glow fades out the dry shrubs lining the kerbs of the road, buzzing cicadas chirp loudly like chewtoys and make his ears swarm, it's peaceful and warm. Most nights he spent here throughout the week have been like this, humid and filled with nocturnal insect choirs. California is loud, it's filled with people with more tan lines than braincells, smog from the cars that clog every pore of the city's shore air.

He makes a mental note to add it on top of his traveling list, up there with Boise and Poughkeepsie. When he reaches the building he was instructed to visit for the night, Corin sighs audibly and pushed the squeaky door of the masonry lined inn with a grunt.

"Hi, I uhm, I'm looking for Tammy? Is she here today?" He asks softly, gripping the reception desk and offering a gentle quirk of his lips.

"It's your lucky day, she's right infront of you." The girl beams, holding out her hand for him to take and shake. She's a got a strong grip, sure and like she could throw him over in with ease. "What can I do for you?"

"I need a room for tonight."

"Well, good thing we're a motel then, huh?" Corin agrees, a blush creeping up his summer tinted, freckled cheeks. Tammy types something into her computer, humming and turning around to scan the wall of hanging keys behind her. She moves her lips as she silently reads the various numbers etched into the pendants.

"I was sure it's not booked- ah! Here we are!" She snatches the only bronze key. "Room 306, the best view in the house."

"Oh wow, I uh, I don't really know if I can afford that. Look, all I need is a place to crash, not a panorama scene." Tammy scoffs, urgently pushing the key into his closed palm.

"Don't be ridiculous, it's a bargain." He scowls, looking at the shiny object in his hand worryingly. "I'll get you some fresh sheets in a jiffy! You go on up and relax, kay?"

"Thank you, seriously. I appreciate it."

"Welcome to Seattle." She says reverenlty, proudly, dissapearing into a small janitor closet styled room. They don't want to be standing around like an idiot, so Corin hikes up his bag over his shoulder and heads upstairs to settle into his room. The halls are old, the wallpaper peeling and dirty, but there's something particularly familiar and nostalgic about the musty smell and abandoned corridors. He soon enough finds his destination and enters the key, twisting it until a tiny click is heard.

The room is nothing special, but he does instantly notice massive terrace double doors in the middle of it. That must be the way to the view that Tammy mentioned mere minutes ago, inviting and apparently in the limits of his pathetic budget.

"Just wait till you go outside, it'll knock your shit out."

Corin jumps at the sudden voice, shoulders hunching once he registers it's only Tammy, carrying a pile.of crisp white duvets and pillows. He reaches out to take a few from her so her thin frame doesn't collapse like a ladder from the heavy cushioned weight.

"Thanks." She grins, walking over to the bed and placing it down, he mimics her and sets his own stack next to it. "It's not much, but the cityscape really does make up for it."

"C'mon, I'll show you!" She takes his wrist and he nearly stumbles over his own feet. Apparently it's not easy to open the doors, they're heavy and get stuck by the hooks. Tammy has to lean down and hit the springlocks for them to loosen until the handle can be pushed down and they open with a whoosh. "Tada!" She exclaims, spinning around and stretching out her arms as she steps backwards towards the railing.

Corin is left speechless, slowly, tentatively inching closer to the wide metal fence keeping him from falling down a terrible demise. They lean against it, his arms bracketing him from the chilly July gusts clashing over their skin like prickling nettle leaves.

The traffic lanes in the far distance sparkle like sequins from the headlights of dashing cars, houses and skyscrapers chase the horizon down a slope of vermillion and the evergreen of firs. He takes his glasses off to get a better view, blurry flashing yellow and white skitters in the slants of the suburban downtown trails. The ocean reflects the mosaic glass of pillars like an aurora borealis, streaks of watercolors seep into the pacific sea and clash into the pebbles along the beach. "It's- wow. It's beautiful."

"Told you." She breathes out, coming to stand next to him, both of them watching and listening to the droning noises of Seattle as it neared eleven pm. "Wouldn't blame you if you decided to stay out here all night." She snickers, nudging his shoulder.

"Wish I could see California like this."

"You're from Cali?" Tammy asks, her brown eyes wide and sparkling from the lampposts. Corin nods, placing his glasses back on. "That's so cool." She smiles, breathing evenly in the darkness creeping over the horizon. "I always wanted to see San Francisco."

"It's overrated."

"I'll take your word for it, then." Tammy places a hand on their arm for a brief second, warmly offering a timid smile. "I'll leave you to it, you look exhausted."

"Good night, Tammy."

"Nighty night, traveler."

Corin indeed doesn't think about sleep at all, not that he normally did, but he was confident that he would be dead and barely standing up on his legs by the end of the day. Yet here he is, sitting on the rickety recliner he found bent in the wardrobe while looking for a blanket, notebook on his lap and nursing a can of cider. He's been scribbling lyrics, brainstorming and letting the metropolitan air glide over his senses. They sing them reluctantly, as if testing how they would sound in an actual music performance.

"Sounds shit."

Corin yelps, nearly knocking over his drink and spilling it over the concrete. He whips around, eyes frantically darting to find the source of the lazy voice. There's a whistle from somewhere above him, coming from the roof that lifts above them. He gasps, staring at the black haired guy sitting on the tiles and leaning against the brick chimney smoking.

"Try'na serenade me all night?" The stranger asks and gives a tilt of his head that in any other situation might have been funny, a raspy Jersey accent slipping into his words.

"What-? I- no, who are you?" Corin stumbles over his words, unsurely pressing himself back against the wall. Who knows what type of people lurk around these parts of Seattle, somebody invading his personal space like this surely doesn't add anything positive to their resume.

"Wouldn't ya' like to know, buddin' rockstar." He scoffs, flicking a bit of ash. Corin can't make out the color of his eyes in the gloomy lighting, but he can see they're sparkling with a ravening curiosity.

"Why the fuck are you on my roof?" They ask, palms slipping into the back pockets of his jeans.

"Your roof, huh?" Again, there's that head tilt, so ridiculous and overly dramatic. He pretends to search for something before shrugging and taking another drag of his cigarette. "Don't see a name anywhere."

"This is trespassing."

"On public property?" He raises an eyebrow, stretching his legs out almost bored. Oddly enough, the motion makes Corin relax - yet they're still not convinced he won't jump them and dump their body behind a graffiti tagged dumpster.

"Can you just go away, please? Find someone else's roof."

The guy ignores their request completely, instead throwing back a question of his own, along with the burnt butt of his cigarette.

"What brings ya here, anyways? This ain't exactly a place you slum for inspiration." He slides a hand through his hair before the fringe falls back over his yet to be exposed eyes.

"I just needed a room to sleep in for tonight. I'm not staying long."

That seems to get the guy's attention, he perks up, sliding down to the edge of the roof, his feet hooking themselves on the pipe.

"You're not from here." They're blue. An icy cyan with dark grey.

Corin scrunches his face up, shaking his head. The man dangles his legs off of the metal tube before easily jumping down the fee feet in height. Instinctively, they curl up away from the overly interested stranger.

"Why the fuck are you in Seattle?"

"You're not," they flinch when the guy lights up another cigarette. "You're not from here either, right?'

"You're as half as dumb as you look."

"Hey!" Corin blushes, his own outburst suprising him. "Big coming from someone who looks like a crackhead."

"Jersey, asshat. Newark." He glares at them, cold eyes now a gentle turquoise underneath the smudged eyeliner surrounding them. Corin doesn't know when, but he is sitting rather comfortably on the fence. Facing the gleaming cityscape.

"Can you leave now? I'm trying to compose in peace."

"If you're goin' to sing the shit I heard, I ain't suprised nobody gives a shit about you."

"I have plenty of people who come listen to me perform." Corin mumbles, crossing his arms and awkwardly standing behind the man who is now officially freaking him out.

"Right, and that's why I've been watchin' ya sulk for the past two hours." He turns to give him a look of disbelief. "Be fuckin' real."

"I don't see why I have to explain myself to you."

"There's nothin' to explain." He has no right to read him this easily.

"If you're not going to leave, can I at least get a name?"

The man is silent and Corin braces himself to be murdered because he made too many annoying requests. Instead of a sharp stabbing pain, he hears a quick inhale through gritted teeth.

"Moon."

"I'm Corin." He replies, daring to step a bit closer. He can feel that the guy- Moon, is fully aware even though his back is turned from the way his spine is perched stiff. They walk forward until they're directly next to him.

"Ever heard of personal space?" He spits, shuffling away.

"We both haven't, apparently." Corin smiles when Moon snickers.

"Touché." He's serious again. "I mean it tho, back up."

"Sorry." Corin whispers, as if not to ruin the night's echoes. They take the time to properly look at him, picking at the sleeves of their jacket. His hair looks subtly indigo when the light catches it, spiky black tufts curl up beneath his ears and dangle together with various silver piercings that hang down obnoxiously.

"Take a fuckin' photo."

"Sorry." Corin looks away, staring at the busy city that roars mere miles away under their feet.

"Stop apologizin', can't help I look good."

"My god," Corin laughs, shaking their head. "Arrogant much?"

"Oh so you're Sherlock too, my." Moon rolls his eyes, dismissively flicking his empty hand in a gesture the brown haired bassist recognizes too much.

"You play?"

Moon gives him an annoyed side glare, throwing the half finished cigarette off of the terrace. Corin follows the fade of the glowing cherry all the way down. He turns, looking up at the dark sky before shrugging.

"Eh, not often. At least not anymore."

"Why?"

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, ya want my whole birth certificate, too?" He spits, slanting his head in a way that makes his ebony, shaggy hair fall like a curtain.

"I'm just wondering. It's nice to meet fellow musicians." Corin smiles, if just to himself. He can feel the lampposts warm the skin running along his arms, goosebumps jumping over it and cradling them in a crisp July cocoon.

"Haven't found anyone who's worth my talent, I guess. To put it simply." Moon's face twists with frustration, it contrasts rather nicely with his pale skin. Corin feels a pang of sympathy, seems like they're both in rather similar situations, if for different reasons and arguments. "Can't say I'm suprised nobody wants you, either."

"I'll have you know-"

"Will you now?"

"Whatever," Corin sighs, a frown extending itself on his face, it doesn't quite reach the creases of his eyes. "This is stupid." He waves Moon off and heads to walk back inside his crappy, mediocre motel room. The other doesn't bother stopping them, he just watches with that stupid head tilt.

"I'm gonna go to bed. I have to be up early tomorrow."

"Ey."

"What?"

They started at eachother for a few moments, hazel swirling blue.

"Nothin', Moon settled on, stepping up onto the railing. Corin watched him climb down, dissapearing through the back chain gates of the back alley motel.

"That's utter fuckin' bullshit." Moon shook off Corin's grip on his shoulder as they shook with laughter. "We did not meet like that."

"Yes we did!" They hit his arm playfully, still half hanging off of the green room sofa as Moon got his mic checked and prepped. They scrambled up on the dirty, carpeted floor tangled with different AMP chords and wires. "And you totally fell off of that balcony."

"Okay, that's it." He shooed away the girl arranging his chord with an irritated scowl. "We're cancelin' the show, call it off. Say their lead singer has been murdered-"

"Wait- no!" Corin hurriedly interrupted, wildly gesturing with his hands and pushing them into Moon's face.

"Get ya' wormy fingers out of my face before I cut em' off," he grumbled, dodging the attack on his freshly styled hair. "We'll see how you play bass then."

"Better that, than my vocal chords."

"Don't give me ideas." Moon pointed at their throat, jingling as he walked over to pick up his guitar from where it was placed in the corner besides his vanity mirror.

"Alright, you grump." They teased, dragging their shaking palms over the slaps of their glittery shirt. "Only after the show is done."

"I'm leavin' the fuckin' venue without you, I swear to god."

"Whatever you say." Corin opens the door that's barely holding itself close by the hinges. "You ready?"

"Don't fuckin' rush me." He grits out, checking his strings one last time before nodding. "I'm all set."

"Come on." They grin, calming their racing heart as they step through the narrow corridor towards the stage.

"I should have thrown ya' off of that motel in the first place."

"At least you wouldn't have fallen off of the balcony alone."

"Fuck off."

[alwaysdevilday]

So I found an interesting worldgen… (Icemourn Pt. 1)

Last night I got the itch to play some Dwarf Fortress (the Steam version because I love me some pretty graphics and menus) so I loaded it up and generated a world.

Much to my surprise, one of the options for a starting civilization (a nation of origin from which my dwarves can be from) was this:

What you're looking at is a civilization of one (1). The king of this entire nation is also its only member, and he spends all his time sitting in his castle alone at the edge of the known world surrounded by ice and frozen peaks. There ain't anybody else other than my seven starting dwarves.

I thought to myself "oh this is gonna suck, there's no way I can't do this", and decided to go for it. I was gonna raise this nation out of the dirt as if my life depended on it.

I chose a spot in the frigid coniferous forests off the landmass's southern coast. No close neighbors, just me and the bears and whoever decided to pass through.

For my preparations, I loaded up on the bare essentials until I ran out of points, gave my dwarves the standard spread of jack-of-all-trades skills and took a few animals for emergency food and protection. The water buffalo are hard to take down and although they eat a lot of grass in pasture, they yield lots of useful resources if I have to Do The Deed. War dogs would take up the task of saving my hide from any potentially dangerous wildlife.

I named the fortress "Icemourn" or Ushilleshal in the dwarven tongue. I thought it appropriate, given that the land remains frozen and blanketed with snow 9 months out of the year.

My embark location was rather auspicious, sporting a wide range of towering trees and plenty of fruit during the admittedly brief surface growing season. The presence of a small river and a natural (if shallow) cliffside did not go unappreciated.

My first task was to carve out a chunk of the hill into something more useful (and aesthetically pleasing). It was there that I would set up my home base, digging out soft and heavy earth to make room for rudimentary bedrooms and the first two workshop areas. The room to the north would be my first dining room, something I planned to convert to a tavern's main floor later.

Initial setup complete, I set about securing my dwarves' safety with some log walls around the entrance. A drawbridge would block all but the biggest and meanest of hostiles from entering in times of emergency. Thankfully, trees were so plentiful in this location that I almost certainly would never run out of usable wood (though that might spell trouble if elves decide to visit later).

That done, my next task was to start carving out the uppermost workshop and stockpile rooms to ensure that my dwarves could carry out essential tasks without being forced to venture into the harsh winter. Dirt walls are ugly and unpleasant, but they get the job done. Beautification would have to come later.

The bare essentials on their way, I had time to order my dwarves to dig deeper, down about 8 z-levels (units of height, estimated to be about 2 meters) until we struck rock. To my delight, the substance proved to be shiny black obsidian. An aesthetically pleasing material, and one I could make basic weaponry out of without having to go to the effort of setting up forges. And as a bonus, fire opal gemstones! Right at my fingertips!

By this time the year's thaw had come, right on schedule in the middle of the summer. Pretty! Warm! Hospitable!

This brought to mind the fact that sooner or later, I would need a water source, so I set my dwarves to tunnel out some of the loam towards the river, forming a subterranean channel that would pipe fresh water into a cavity beneath my entrance's "courtyard". A covered well would allow the dwarves access to drinkable water year round, without concern for it freezing easily.

As autumn approached, the first traders arrived from somewhere far away. I hastily set up a trade depot for them and dumped my sole bin of wooden crafts onto the offering table. By the time the deal was done, we had procured several barrels of alcohol (and the trader had procured a nearly 60% profit, absurdly) and had lightened our load a bit. Unfortunately, our three months of sunlight was over and the snow once again began to fall as the traders packed their things and hastily left.

Continued Later

[writtenjewels]

Pleasurable Business

Jason ran his tongue from tip to base, swirling before going back up again. He liked to joke that he ate popsicles to keep in practice, but in truth they were great palate cleansers between customers. He slid it into his mouth and sucked until the ice melted enough to bite down. An action he admittedly did a few times, but those assholes deserved it.

“Hey.” Eric popped into the room, his blonde hair in a mess. He was already half-naked. “I have a favor to ask.” Jason sat up a little, licking syrup off his finger.

“What's up?”

“Dar brought a friend along and I thought you could take care of him. It's his first time.”

“Virgin?” Jason checked, biting down another piece of popsicle.

“No, he was married before,” Eric explained. “I mean his first time with a man.”

“Ain't the experimentin' types more your area?” Jason argued. Eric shrugged a shoulder, his face turning red.

“Like I said, Dar brought him.” Jason understood the issue now. If it were anyone else, Eric probably would've taken care of them. He had a way with guys who were experimenting with their sexuality. It was actually how he and Dar met, and Eric had done such a good job that Dar always requested him.

Jason thought the two of them might be meeting outside of business hours, too.

“All right, fine,” he said out loud. He tossed what was left of his popsicle in the trash. He checked himself in the mirror and wiped off the syrup on his mouth before following Eric out.

Customers always started out in the lounge. There were cushions and sofas for them to relax on while they got to know all the employees. Jason saw Nick with two customers and gave his friend a nod in greeting. Dar was sitting on a cushion with another man sitting beside him. They both looked up on Jason and Eric's approach.

“I see you brought a friend, habibi,” Dar noted, reaching out to take Eric's hand. The blonde let himself be pulled into the other man's lap and was greeted with a kiss. Eric cupped the man's cheek and returned the kiss.

Jason glanced over at the newcomer to see how he was handling this display. The guy was pointedly staring at a corner of the room. He had a pleasant, rounded face and short dark hair that was in tight curls. He wore a T-shirt with leaf prints, making him look very out of place. Jason let out a snort, catching the man's attention.

“Cute shirt.”

“Thank you. My son bought it for me.” The guy had a nice, low voice with an accent similar to Dar's. “Are you, ah...” The man hesitated as he searched for the right words. “Are you a friend of Eric's?” he finally asked.

“We get along,” Jason assured him. There was a burst of laughter from somewhere in the room. Joey must be entertaining customers, too. “I'm Jason.”

“My name is Salim,” the other returned. “Your lips are a little blue. Are you cold?”

“I ate a blue raspberry popsicle,” Jason told him with a chuckle. “Thought I washed it all off.” That made Salim smile. He was a pretty good-looking guy. Jason glanced back at Dar and Eric. Dar's hand was caressing Eric's bare chest and was either whispering something to him or mouthing his earlobe. “Eric says it's your first time,” Jason resumed.

“I haven't been with anyone since the divorce,” Salim confirmed. He paused to also glance at Dar and Eric. “Could we move somewhere else?”

“They'll leave eventually,” Jason shrugged. “Hey!” He kicked Eric's foot. “You know the rules: when they start getting handsy, you take 'em to a room.”

“Right, sorry.” Eric was flushed but smiling. He added something to Dar in another language, and the man responded in the same language. The two got up and walked off hand-in-hand.

“So the divorce,” Jason continued, getting the conversation back on track. “How long ago?”

“It's been years.” Salim was quiet for a moment before adding: “She left me.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“It's all right. I've long since gotten over it.” Silence fell again, filled only by the quiet conversations of other groups in the room. “I didn't really feel lonely,” Salim mentioned. “I had my son to take care of. But he's gone to university now.”

“You look fuckin' good for a guy who's got a son in college,” Jason observed. His comment caught Salim off-guard, making the other's face go wide in surprise. Damn, that was a cute look. “You thirsty?” Jason offered. “Hungry?”

“No, thank you, my friend.” They were quiet again. “Dar said this place was good for... discovery,” Salim spoke up. “I've only ever been with my wife; I don't know how to start this.”

“Kiss me,” Jason suggested, causing Salim's eyes to go wide. “Just to see if ya like it,” Jason clarified. He scooted closer so his knee was touching Salim's thigh. “If you ain't into it, we can just talk until Dar and Eric are done.”

“You want me to kiss you? Just like that? What if you don't like it?”

Jason let out a snort and leaned in a little closer, resting his hand on Salim's chest. “I'll like it, I promise.” Salim's eyes flicked down to Jason's lips. He rested a hand on Jason's cheek and pulled their lips close.

The kiss was hesitant but sweet. Jason let his lips relax and returned the gesture encouragingly. Salim gained some confidence from this and began moving his lips against Jason's. Jason could feel a pleasant warmth from the contact. It was surprising how good Salim was at this, how he moved his mouth to slot perfectly against Jason's with just the right amount of pressure. Salim's fingers slid along Jason's jaw and around to tickle the hairs on the back of his neck.

Jason parted his lips without thinking. He grazed his tongue over Salim's bottom lip and felt the older man shudder in response before opening his mouth. Jason pushed his tongue inside and grazed it against Salim's. The older man groaned, fingers twitching on the back of Jason's neck. Jason pulled back to give him breathing space.

“How was that?”

“I...” Salim stared at him with slightly glazed eyes. “I enjoyed it.” Jason smiled and rubbed his thumb against Salim's jaw.

“Wanna kiss me again?” He watched Salim's Adam's apple bob with a swallow.

“Do you want me to?”

“Yeah.” Jason was a little surprised by the honesty of that. He didn't often kiss customers, and didn't often like it when he did. “You're a good kisser,” Jason said, as if trying to explain the feeling to himself.

Salim's lips were on his again, more certain this time as he grew familiar with Jason's mouth. Jason's lips were parting and Salim let him in, fingers sliding up into Jason's hair. This time it was Jason who let out the little moan. He pushed his own fingers into Salim's hair and shifted so he had Salim's thigh between his legs.

“Jason.” The name came out in a heavy, heated tone.

“Let's go to a room,” Jason suggested, his voice matching Salim's heat.

“Do you think I'm going to be 'handsy' with you?” Salim asked him.

“Call it bein' optimistic.” Salim said nothing, his fingers lightly brushing Jason's hair. “Salim,” Jason urged him, leaning in and initiating the kiss this time. Salilm's lips parted without hesitation, his tongue pushing in and sending heat pooling in Jason's gut.

“Ah, this...” Salim let out a breath. “We should...”

“Fuck yes,” Jason answered, squeezing his legs around Salim's thigh.

[Another one of those "I don't know, this was just kicking in my head" things. Yes, there will be smut]

[whooambouttamakeanameformyself]

Beautiful Bloodshed.

Otis Driftwood x Transmasc! Reader. (18+)

Chapter Three

(Chapter Two can be found below)

(Same summary and warnings apply throughout the book.)

~~~~~~~~~~

(This chapter takes place a week later.)

{I'd like to note that the mild homophobia from Otis in the last chapter was toward himself because of the shit his dad did and said to him when he was young. He's very open minded about other people, just not himself.}

Since that day Otis had been battling his feelings, torn between his heart and his mind. Much to his dismay he couldn't bring himself to bring his walls down enough to let them in. He wanted so badly to just let them in, to allow their warm personality to melt the ice on his heart, but he couldn't....

He wasn't sure if he could trust them....

This wasn't going to stop him from hanging out with Y/N, there was no way he'd pass up an opportunity to drink and talk shit with one of the best shit talkers he's ever met! Honestly, he's a little jealous of his sister for hogging them all the time (sharing is caring, obviously.)

Today they were sitting with Otis in his room, watching The Munsters on TV. Y/N was sitting on the floor, knees to their chest and back against the side of Otis's bed, eyes trained on the tv. Every so often Y/N would giggle at a joke or gag.

When an ad came on Y/N got up and stretched. "I'm gunna go grab a beer, you want one?" They asked, only getting a nod from Otis in response. They just rolled their eyes and ventured downstairs to the kitchen where mama was sat talking with Baby, who looked at him when he came in. "You havin' fun up there without me?" She asked, half teasing. She was pretty upset that they had chosen to hang out with Otis instead of her (the obvious better choice).

Mama shot Baby that look.

(we all know that scary look moms give when they are two seconds away from whoopin' ya ass.)

"Baby! Don't you be gettin' mad at him for spendin' time with Otis, you had Y/N all week last week, you let Otis have some time with him! It's rare that Otis makes any friends, and I don't want you ruinin' a good thing." Mama said, causing baby to sink back in her chair, muttering out a quiet 'Sorry Mama.'

Y/N ignored Baby's taunt and walked over to the fridge, grabbing two beers. "You two doin' okay up there? Otis ain't giving you a hard time, is he?" Mama asked, to which he shook his head with a smile. "No Ma'am, no trouble at all. We're watchin' The Munsters, then we're gunna work on a few projects."

Baby let out a soft groan, tilting her head back in frustration. "Ugh! Now he's got them helping him with his art! Y/N use to help me with my dolls! Mama why can't Otis just fuck off and let me have Y/N? They were my friend to start with!"

Mama was visibly upset now, quickly shooing him out of the kitchen before startin' to yell at Baby.

Y/N took the hint and hurried back up the stairs and into Otis's bedroom.

Otis was still in the same spot, staring at the TV, now grumbling about annoying families. "Here." Y/N said, handing him the bottle, which he took without a word. "You really gotta learn to use your big boy words, man." They said absent-mindedly as they sat down, using their keys to pop the lid off their bottle. Otis looks over at them, giving them a slightly confused, but mostly disgruntled look. "What the fuck are you talking about? 'Big boy words', the fucks that even supposed to mean?"

Y/N shrugged, taking a sip from their beer. "Please and Thank you come to mind, ya know, words most people use to be polite instead of nodding like someone cut your tongue out." They said, turning their focus back to the tv. Otis rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair, opening his own beer without another word.

Y/N just shrugged. "Whatever, don't listen to me. It just makes a lot of sense to me now why you're still single, I wouldn't wanna date ya either if ya can't even say please and thank you."

BAM! That hit Otis HARD.

He sat there, head spinning, did they really mean that? Well.... he could handle adding those two phrases to his vocabulary... if it meant they'd like him more.

Then, he did something he rarely ever did.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I should have been nicer." His voice was low but it was still very audible to them. Their jaw dropped, what the hell was wrong with Otis? Was he sick? Dying?

"What? What'd you say?" They asked, setting their beer down on the floor beside them, their mouth still hanging open. Otis let out a frustrated growl, keeping his eyes on the TV. "God dammit! You fuckin' heard me! I ain't fuckin' repeatin' myself! And if ya didn't hear what I said, tough!"

After that the room fell silent again, Y/N still on the floor and Otis in his chair, both watching TV, both pretending nothing happened.

Once Otis was done watching TV he got up and shut it off, excited to get back to his art. He turned to where Y/N had been sitting to find that they'd moved position, they were now asleep, laying curled up on the floor, the calm of the room and the TV as background noise was enough to put them to sleep. Otis, knowing that he hated to be woken up when he was sleeping, just grabbed one of his flannel shirts and draped it over their torso. He still worked on his art, just much quieter than he usually would work, wanting to let them sleep since clearly they weren't getting enough sleep at home (or wherever they lived, he'd never actually bothered or cared to ask.)

It had been around 6 ish when Otis started working, so after an hour passed Mama came upstairs to check in on the two and to ask if Y/N was going to stay for dinner. However, Otis immediately shushed her as soon as she opened the door, she was confused until he motioned down to Y/N's sleeping body on the floor.

"I'll take it they're stayin' for dinner then... they'll be hungry when they wake up." She whispered before leaving, closing the door behind herself, leaving them in total quiet once again.

Otis really did have a soft spot.... but only for Y/N, though he'd die before he admitted it to anyone (Mama already knows, she can tell these things.)

End of Chapter Three.

~~~~~~~~~~

I know it was short and I'm sorry!

Also when I said slow burn, I meant Y/N takes a long time to realize they are very much in love with Otis, and a little longer to realize that Otis has been in love with them the entire fucking time.

[sonicasura]

I'm currently planning out a design for my Plagas!Leon as I watch a Resident Evil 4 Remake walkthrough. Already listed some behavior for my buggy lad here so this goes into some of the physical design.

He's got two fully functional mouths. I ain't telling where the second one is but it's much bigger than his normal one. Like it can envelope half a Verdugo in one bite. Oh, Leon can spit fire from there by generating flammable gas and ignite it with a snap of his tongue which is designed to create static electricity through friction.

Leon got multiple appendages that don't come from the Plagas. How many? Enough that he can walk on all 10 minus the two pairs of scythe like Plagas limbs and his tail.

Leon's tail ends with two stingers as it splits down the middle halfway through. The limb is quite long and rubbery than plated. Reason being Leon's tail can actually stretch an additional five feet with enough momentum, kinda like a sticky hand.

BIG BOI. You can blame the once inactive G virus cells Leon got back in Raccoon City. No way in hell did some not cling onto him with all the Birkin Monster battles especially the one at the end. Just know Leon can carry three people on his lower back and his spines are used as handlebars for passengers to hold onto.

He has eight pair of eyes. Three pairs are where his second mouth is and freak the fuck outta everyone as they are fully functional. Leon definitely bumped, took down stuff or fell multiple times. A pure clutz that Chris compares it to walking on a soapy ice floor.

And that's all I will divulge. Trust me when I say I'm gonna make him gnarly to a degree. It isn't the first time I monsterified a character to eldritch levels. Some examples: Broken Toys!MK from an LMK AU, Ash Soul!BotW Link from a LoZ AU, and Arachnid King!Hank J. Wimbleton from Madness Combat. I get to brush off some dust after not doing it for awhile.

That's all I have for now! Until next time folks, keep surviving in Raccoon City.

[lacteawhy]

-I'd give anything to be on our sofa right now

Sherman says getting up from his chair.

-but..we get what we get..

He sighs.

-it broke..

You say without looking at Sherman.

-huh? What do you mean it broke?

-you broke it..

You're trying not to start laughing, he looks at you smiling.

-what, how?

-you know damn well how! It collapsed right under me as soon as I sat on it yesterday!

You started laughing, making Sherman giggle too.

-see how it's done, agent Munday?

Oh fuck! You forgot where you were! Agent Munday is here. You blush into your hands, trying to suppress the laughter. He watches both of you..this whole picture is..odd to him.

-oooh I missed you so much, peach.

He grabs your chin making you look at him.

-why didn't you want to visit me?

-Manny...I want to forget about you.

Your chest became heavy again. You feel that nasty feeling..you shouldn't be here, you shouldn't be laughing with him. You're trying to get him out of your head, not add more memories.

-come on, sweetheart..you know I need you, right?

-and I needed you..when it turned out you were killing behind my back..how do you think I feel?

-I was never going to hurt you

He whispers, leaning in for a kiss. But you look the other way.

-I don't care...it doesn't matter.

-just one more time..won't you make daddy feel good one more time

His voice caresses your ears.. oh no..you feel it..tension building up between your legs. Embarrassing..you do miss him whole after all..you feel him breathing, so close to you, his hot breath touches your skin. His lips press against your neck.

-get your hands off of her.

Hector's demanding voice breaks the ice.

-come on now, agent! Is she against it? No! Look at her, panties probably soaking wet right now!

-Manny, shut the fuck up.

You push him away. He laughs.

-you know I'm right, don't try to hide it!

-did you not hear what I said, mister Sherman?

Hector began approaching you two. You stood up, facing him.

-mister Munday, it's okay, really..

Munday looks at you.

-just tell me if you feel uncomfortable with him, I'll lock him up.

-it's fine, I can handle him. How do you think I survived living with him for so long?

You chuckle. Hector strictly looks at Sherman.

-ay, agent Munday, I'm not going to hurt her.

-I saw the..markings..you left in her.

-aaah, she showed you?

Sherman sounds proud.

-so you know who she belongs to, right, agent?

Hector frowns at Sherman, who, suddenly, looks very regal.

-Manny, shut up..you're not helping me.

-no no noo, sweetheart, he has to know. You're mine. I see the way he's looking at you...

The air fills up with tension. Sherman is pushing Munday's buttons.. what an asshole, can't keep it chill for a damn minute.

-I'm sorry? Are you insane?

You look at Sherman, very confused.

-well come on, agent! Why don't you say anything, huh?

Hector's eyes are fixed on one target. And the target it Sherman's face. You place your hands on Munday's chest

-come on, mister Munday..don't let him provoke you. Hey..

He's not listening to you.. you decide to be more daring and place your hand on his cheek. As soon as he feels that warm touch, he looks at you.

-officer, it's all good..yeah?

He closes his eyes.

-yeah..

-Manny, you provocative bitch.

You look at your beloved. He laughs.

-even the prison can't change your smug ass.

-and that's why you love me, right?

You sigh..fuck it. Fuck it! You approach him, placing your hands on his neck and passionately kissing his lips.

-there are better reasons to love you...

You whisper, caressing his neck. For a second it felt like he was going to melt..just for a second, before he became smug and bold again.

-see, sweetheart..it ain't so hard..

He half-whispers.

-daddy loves it when you behave

-daddy better shut up before our kind mister Munday decides to lock his ass..

You smile cheekily.

-oh fuck, sweetheart, you gonna make me weak for that sharp tongue of yours

Sherman is pressing his body against you. Making you slide your hands across his chest. His eyes check in with Munday. He's watching. Patiently.. But it seems like it's all good..for now.

-you like the show, agent?

Sherman was about to start his play again, but you caught his attention by sliding your hands under his shirt.

-don't get distracted, puppy

He smiles at you. Checks in with Munday again, winks at him and fixes his attention on you.

-didn't know my innocent little peach was a perv..

-says you?

-you tellin' me you're good with some audience?

-want me to stop?

-no, no! Just surprised is all.

You roll your eyes.

-no, I'm not good. But I'm doing it for you.

Well you really shouldn't have said that because, heavens have mercy, the smug on that face. Ooh for hiiim? You really shouldn't have! You look at him, processing his expression.

-..I regret saying that.

-for me?

-don't say a single word.

-for mee?

-Manny...

-ah, for me~

He lifts his arms, putting them behind you. Well..now you're trapped in this bastard's cuffed grip. Really should've asked Munday to take off the handcuffs..

-Say it again~

He almost giggles, pressing you against him.

-I hate every fiber of your being.

-no, you love me.

He growls into your ear.

-come oon, say iit~

You feel him getting excited and aroused.

-I'm doing it..

-yees yes yes?

-for you.

He places his hands near your hips and lifts you up, placing you on the table. His forehead is pressing against yours. He's keeping your body close..you feel his crotch between your legs. He's carefully rubbing against you.

-agent Munday..she's doing it for me. You better enjoy it.

He sounds so proud, almost like a child. Munday crossed the arms on his chest.

-sweetheart, you gotta help your old man..hands are in no working state

He jerks you towards him, using the handcuffs' chain.

-see?

You shake your head, moving your hands towards his zip. But before helping him out you decide to tease a little..a hand slides down his underwear. You bite your lip, massaging his cock a little. He gasps.

-oh..fuck..yeah, that's the touch I missed, baby...

He moans with no shame whatsoever.

-aww..my puppy seems so eager..

-your DADDY, sweetheart.

-ah, sorry..daddy~

You say the last word extra sensually. His dick twitched inside your hand.

-I've waited for you long enough..just let me fuck that wet pussy already.

He sounds a bit desperate but trust me, that's his way of being playful with you.

-watch your dirty mouth, mister Sherman! A special fbi agent is watching you!

You stroke his dick, taking it out of its tight denim prison. He chuckles, giving Hector a side eye.

-come on now..stop teasing me and show me how wet you really are..

-oh you want to know everything, don't you?

-sweetheart, don't test me..

He sounded serious..maybe he is getting a bit impatient.. you smile at him, slowly dragging your clothes down, dropping everything on the floor.

-oh yes. Yes. Fuck...

He instantly starts rubbing his dick against you, covering it in your lube and making you pant.

-so wet. Good girl. So fucking wet you are.. you want my dick, don't you? You missed it? Missed me fucking you until you forget how to speak?

-yes..

You murmur, embarrassed.

-that's a good girl.

He presses his tip against the entrance.

-wait, just like that?

You look at him surprised.

-Manny, wait-

He pushes in, making you moan. He grins, gasping.

-that's the stuff..

He slowly pushes until the very end. For some time you both just pant, murmuring each other's names...I guess it's just another hint towards both of you missing one another.. he kisses your neck and starts moving. You're..surprised. You thought he was going to destroy your insides but instead..it feels like he's enjoying every bit of you, slowly..

-Manny..

You moan into his ear.

-sweetheart..

He snuggles with you, beginning to move faster. You feel your heart getting lighter from this feeling you're sensing right now. You've never seen him like that. He didn't lie when he said he missed you. It makes you smile. This damn bastard..makes you smile softly..makes you feel loved.

Your eyes move to agent Munday for a moment. You chuckle. Poor guy is stroking his dick through his pants. He notices your stare and moves his head to the side. He's embarrassed. You decide not to invade his..uhm...privacy and turn your head towards Sherman, making him kiss you on the lips.

-you feel so good, sweetheart..

He sounds gentle.

-how can you feel so good..

He picks up the speed again. You start moaning more rapidly. You missed his damn dick..the way he knows your favorite rhythm, the way he teases your clit from time to time..he knows how to make you moan the loudest and roll your eyes in pleasure. Fuck, you hate him. You just hate him for being so good with you. You don't want to let him go.

Finally you feel it, good old Manny. He grips into you, making his smacks rough and hard. The wet sounds from below make you embarrassed. He loves them. He knows those sounds mean you are fucking enjoying him. He's almost there. You know he's almost there when he starts murmuring the sweetest words to you. You finish before him, gripping his dick with pulsating pleasure. You moan his name, hugging him tightly. He, of course, cums deeply inside you. What did you expect? That he all of the sudden doesn't want to make you his? Sure, in your dreams...actually..at this moment, in your dreams, you want to be his and his only.

You both breathe heavily. You hear the sound of a zipper. Seems like agent Munday took good care of himself too. He gets up and releases Sherman's hands.

-clean up.

A very strict and reserved command. Sherman chuckles.

-as you say, agent Munday.

He kisses you lazily, all over the neck area.

Another few minutes you watch him polishing the floor and the table, while feeling Munday's stare on you.. you're not what's that about..analyzing you?

-enough.

Munday approaches you.

-it's time for you to leave-

-no.

Sherman quickly gets up.

-a few more minutes..come on..

He hugs you with his free from handcuffs hands..feels nice. He murmurs sweet things into your ear. How he'll keep you in his mind, how much he loves you and..please don't try to forget him.

-alright..alright, agent Munday, want to cuff me now?

Hector silently cuffs Sherman and makes him walk towards the exit

-want me to take you to the exit or can you navigate by yourself?

Munday refers to you.

-uhm..I'm good, thanks..goodbye, Manny..

-bye, sweetheart..

You leave the room. Sherman begins to talk

-listen, agent..

Hector looks at him

-we both know what's waiting for me.

He chuckes.

-so I have another little request to ask..it's a small one, don't get scared

Silence.

-take care of my girl.

Hector swallows.

-I know I can count on you, agent.