#if you are waiting on a response from me i’m not deliberately ignoring you i have just been So Tired DJDJF

[bravevolunteer]

hello everyone i am going to try and have a relatively productive day after rot weekend ( + monday ) so i’m gonna be doing some tasks before i come on here to hopefully write a little more and get to plotting/messages i just haven’t had the energy for my bad-

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Gray Woman 2

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: You meet a man who tests your patience. (grumpy!short!reader)

Note: To those who didn’t help me resist this beast, I blame you.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The bank is at peak hours. The rush used to make you dizzy but these days you barely notice the changes. There's always someone else waiting. There's always someone upset about money and it's usually their own fault.

You tap through a transaction, working from muscle memory as you ask the usual questions, hit the usual keys. You hand over their card and point them to grab their receipt from the machine on the other side of the glass. The take both. You're used to the the lack of a 'thank you'.

You wait for the next customer. When no one shows, you peer up towards the line corralled behind the stanchions and cords. A man in his suit, more interested in his phone than reality. A woman behind him clears her throat, "excuse me."

He jerks away from her as if she spit on him and scoffs. He rolls his eyes and tucks away his phone as his eyes flit up to you. He approaches as he continues to feel around under the chest of his jacket. He reveals his black card as he gets to the counter and slaps it down.

You watch him dulcetly, "hello, sir. How can I help you today?"

He scoffs again, this time louder. "That's Mr. Hansen, remember?"

You look at him, this time with actual consideration. Your customers are usually nothing more than faceless silhouettes. He sports a bristly mustache and shaved sides. Quite the look to go with his patterned suit jacket.

"I get a lot of customers, sir," you reach through to take his card and he catches your fingers. You flinch, just a little, and try to jerk your hand free. "Sir, let go or--"

"Yeah, yeah," he chortles and releases you as he slants his lips defiantly, "you call over those fake cops standing at the door. What do you think they'll do about it, sweet cheeks?"

You feel a crease between your brows but you don't bit the bait. Some people just want to spread their misery. You quickly snatch the card and swipe it through the machine. His account pops up on the screen.

"What do we need today?" You ask.

"Hm, besides a coffee and some afternoon delight," he snickers, "I need you to move some money for me, sweetheart."

You ignore the epithet. It happens often. The 'hons', the 'sweeties', the 'girls'.

"I'll need an ID." You say.

"We've been through this," he snips. "Just do what I tell you."

He steps closer to the window and you turn to blink at him. He stares back at you. He grimaces, "you really that stupid? You forgot me already?"

"Like I said, sir, it's busy--"

"Go get Veronique, right now," he demands, his nose almost touching the glass.

You put your feet on the bar and step down to the floor. You move stiffly, if not deliberately slow, and shuffle in your flats toward Veronique's cubicle. She sits behind the frosted siding and you tap on it before peeking around.

"Customer," you shrug.

She huffs, "ugh, I swear."

She stands up and leaves her cell phone on the desk. You back up and wait for her to pass before you follow her. She struts to your counter and in an instant, her posture changes.

"Mr. Hansen, you're back!" She chirps, "comment ca va?"

"The damn crow you got squawking back there is asking for my ID again."

"Is she?" Veronique hisses, "forgive me please. I promise, we will make sure this doesn't happen again." She turns and points to your chair, "just do what he say and stop bothering me. Mr. Hansen is a VIP customer. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," you answer. You already know you'll get a lecture later so you don't hold back the subtle snipe.

You get up on your seat and face Mr. Hansen, "what do you need? Money where?"

He chuffs out derisively, "I know your fucking with me, doll face. You remember me."

You neither confirm or deny. Truly, you deal with so many demanding managers and executives, that you might have seen him an hour ago and not realise it.

"Are we moving money out of the checking?" You ask.

He sighs and shifts, leaning on the ledge as if trying to see around your screen. He grumbles before he speaks up. He tells you what to do and you acquiesce. He gives you an account number to wire money out then announces the end of your work.

"Good girl," he winks as he stands straight.

"Do you need your receipt?" You ask as you reach for your mug, tasting the cold peppermint tea.

He watches you sip and his cheek ticks. "I need that about as much as you need that stick lodge up your ass."

It's a bit more on the nose than you're used to. Usually they call you a bitch or just huff and puff and stomp out. His effort is a bit too much. Especially if he thinks himself so important.

"Have a good day, sir," you close out of his account with a click. "Mr. Hansen," he snarls.

"Alright," you say and try to see around him, ready for the next in line. He hesitates before he backs off. When he does, a squat woman comes up and hands you a check. She slides through her bank card and ID. You put it through the scanner then ask her what account to deposit or if she needs cash.

As you issue her receipt, you glance up. That man stands by the door, his face furrowed in distaste as he glares across at you, then he spins and strides out. Hm, maybe it wasn't the same man… you can't tell that far away.

You wish the woman a good day and the next customer comes up. You peek at the clock. Still a while left. Sometimes it feels like time slows down, like the bank isn't subject to the typical laws of time a space. A special purgatory just for the forsaken tellers behind their windows.

[emotionoitme]

i didn’t know

i didn't know - skinshape

final part of don’t call my name

warnings: some fighting at the beginning, but it’s mostly just one big love and fuckfest, mommy issues, slight mention of disordered eating, carmy is a PERV!! unprotected sex throughout but what else did you expect, shower sex (water off for SAFETY), teasing, play fighting (like shoving), brat/brat tamer themes, f receiving oral, fingering, major voyeurism (while otp with richie because i have a crush on him), spanking (and mention of skin being red), slight dacryphilia, sexy pictures, face fucking (m receiving oral), he spits in her mouth, kind of rough handling (thank u dom carmy), but it’s sweet and sappy too, breeding kink oop, bittersweet ending, pls let me know if i missed any warnings my brain is fried from looking at this for so long.

wc: 21k - but tumblr has a 1k "block limit" so this chapter is broken into two posts

a/n: sorry that took me so long i took a grippy sock vacation lol. wow i am so excited for all of you to read this. and the only way i can apologize is with 21k words of the nastiest smut i’ve ever written. LET THERE BE LIGHT!!! (part two of this chapter will be linked at the bottom! no more waiting i promise!!)

playlist

knock knock 

he calls her name. 

she rolls her eyes, brushing out the tangles in her hair. “i need to talk to you.” his voice comes sternly.

she cracks the door, continuing to detangle. the plan was to ignore him, yet she can’t help but seethe at the fact that she had to deal with claire again.

“go talk to your girlfriend” her retort comes sharply.

“can you not start this shit?” his face scrunches.

“i’m not starting anything,” she defends, “you’re the one who keeps inviting that girl over here.” 

“she forgot her scarf,” he states, “she just came to pick it up. that’s it.”

the girl scoffs. 

“i’m sure she wanted a lot more than her scarf from you, carm.” 

“you-,” he rubs his forehead, sighing, “i told her that we’re together, okay?” his eyebrow twitches from the argument.

“you only told her that because she saw me in your shirt,” the girl argues stubbornly, “if i didn’t walk behind you, you wouldn’t have said anything.” she turns the shower on.

“yes i would have,” he contests, “and even if she didn’t see you, i’ve got these fuckin’ things all over my neck,” pointing to the dark purple hickeys that lay on his skin, “thanks for those, by the way. gotta go into work tomorrow like this.” 

she bites her lip to hide a smirk. 

he catches it and raises his eyebrows in response. 

“payback.”

“what?” he stutters, shaking his head. 

“those are nothing compared to what you gave me.”  

he scoffs and crosses his arms. tries to push away how roused he becomes when they bicker like this. 

“i didn’t hear any complaints while i was giving you them,” he counters. 

she rolls her eyes.

“can you get out? i need to shower.” 

“m’not done talking to you,” his eyes lock on her face. 

she puts her hand on her hip and scoffs, staring at him for a moment, studying his features. cursing how her body tingled from the argument. deliberating. 

“fine,” she concedes, threading her fingers under the hem of the borrowed shirt, lifting it up over her head to reveal her nudity. if he won’t leave, she’ll just shower anyways. 

carmen fights a groan at the sight, instead forcefully exhaling through his nose. 

she was right, the marks on his neck were nothing compared to the bruises littering her skin, trailing from her neck all the way down to her chest, ranging from red to purple to brown.

the girl turns to open the glass door of the shower, stepping in, watching as the man shamelessly admires her figure. she goes about her business as if he’s not there, submerging her head under the stream of water, carding her fingers through her hair to scrub her scalp. 

he’s not done talking to her, yet he can’t seem to remember what he even wanted to say, transfixed by her nude, wet body just feet away. she begins to hum a tune and lather up her hair with shampoo. 

carmen approaches the glass. 

“hey,” he tries with a knock, eyebrow twitching. something else twitching, too. 

she glances at him, suds dripping down the side of her face, sliding down her breasts. she smirks knowingly at the sight of his flustered face, pushing her chest out slightly before drenching her face underneath the water again. 

he knocks on the glass door again, jaw tightly clenched. she rubs the water out of her eye and turns to him, cracking the door of the shower open. 

“hm?” she questions, gazing up at him. 

“we gonna finish talking?” he asks. he looks angry, but she knows better. the way his chest puffs out. the way his jaw clenches in that certain way. he looks hungry, and she’s tempted to keep pushing.

“i can’t. i’m in the shower,” she bites down on her lip to refrain from smirking. 

“why-” a sigh, running his fingers through his hair, “why you being such a brat today, huh?” he strains, giving great effort to keep his gaze from trailing down. 

“because i want you to myself,” she bites, “i’m tired of sharing with claire.”

“will you knock that shit off? y’not sharing me with anyone.” 

“uh, i beg to differ,” her eyebrows scrunch, “you’ve been fucking around with her since i moved in.” 

“fucking around?” he scoffs, “she was getting her scarf.”

“there was the other time, too, carm,” she reminds him. 

“that’s because-” he lets out a sigh of exasperation, hand carding through his hair. “listen. she’s the last person i wanna be with. we just…weren't good together.”

“why not?” she presses 

“there just wasn’t…i dunno, sparks? it was like dating a friend.” 

“okay.” she’s still mad, but she likes the words that come from his mouth. because if she has one thing with carmen, it’s definitely sparks. 

“yeah?” he tries, leaning to see her face, “you know i’m yours, right?” 

“yeah. whatever.” she doesn’t want to concede, too fired up about claire coming back over. “you should’ve told me.”

“i knew it’d make you mad,” he defends. 

“not as mad as it makes me thinking that you invited her,” she scoffs, “fucking hate seeing that girl bat her eyelashes at you.” she lathers shampoo between her hands and begins to wash her hair. 

“yeah?” he raises his eyebrows, “feeling jealous?” 

“shut up.” she can sense the stupid smirk on his face. 

carmy’s concentration breaks, and his gaze flits down to her sudsy chest. fuck. he clears his throat before speaking. 

“didn’t know girls like you could get jealous.”

“girls like m-what? what is that supposed to mean?” she cracks an eye open. 

“means you’re too fuckin’ pretty to worry about that shit. so just lose the attitude.”

his answer catches her off guard. the pulsing between her legs catches her off guard too. so she just turns away from him, scrubbing her scalp with her soapy fingers and shutting her eyes tightly. 

he chides her name and pushes the glass door open further. 

she ignores him, soaking her hair under the stream of water, muffling his voice. her eyebrow twitches. 

carmy steps partially in and turns off the water, getting his shirt wet in the process. the girl’s eyes shoot open and she whips around to face him.

“what the fuck, carmy?!” 

“i need you to fuckin’ hear me.” his comes louder than he anticipated. “i don’t. want. claire.” 

she doesn’t even care anymore. his lips look so inviting, she thinks. his white shirt clings to his chest in the spot that got wet. 

she just looks at him for a moment. studies his frenetic expression. looks at his lips again. 

“are you gonna keep fucking fighting with me or are you gonna take that wet shirt off?” 

it takes him a half second of firm deliberation before he’s yanking his shirt over his head and pushing his sweatpants off. she grins as he roughly grabs her face and slams his lips against hers. 

he kisses her with a hungry frenzy, like he has something to prove.  

and they apologize to each other with their bodies yet again, as carmen lifts her against the cold tile and fucks her, coaxing and kissing and thrusting an orgasm out of her. 

he fucks her until it feels like all the hurting is gone. until she gets lovey and desperate for him. until he gets so worked up he groans promises about finding her in california and giving her a ring. 

by the time they finish, the water is cold and the girl begins to shiver. so the two quickly finish washing up and carmy wraps her in a towel. 

he retrieves one of his sweatshirts for her to wear, smoothing his hands over her arms to help warm her up. 

without many words exchanged, they decide to cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie together. she lays her head on his lap and he cards his fingers through her hair absentmindedly. exchanging tenderness to help mend the argument. forgetting feelings of jealousy and shortcoming and guilt. 

they cozy up in carmen’s bed that night, taking a moment before falling asleep to just lay staring at each other. joking softly, touching each other sweetly.

he asks her about california, and watches with fascination as she lights up telling him about the beach she grew up next to. tells him about how when things would get bad at home she would sneak out her window and spend hours swimming in the salty water. letting the waves lap at her skin. letting the sun kiss her better. how it seems so dangerous looking back at it, but as kid nothing ever seemed that dangerous. it felt like nothing could hurt you. 

carmy enthusiastically agrees with her. follows her memory with his own anecdote of when donna took him, mikey, and nat to lake michigan and little carmy got separated from everyone. how he would have otherwise panicked and ran around and made the situation worse, but it was such a beautiful evening. so he decided to just sit on a rock and watch the waves roll in. 

a big smile grows on the girl's face as he recounts the moment when his mom found him. how she threw her arms around him and cried. how he was too young to understand why she was so scared when it was such a lovely evening. 

she wraps her arms around his shoulders and their chests press flush together. she kisses his neck, and they stay quiet for a moment. 

“i wish i didn’t have to go back,” she whispers her admission.

“me too.” he keeps playing with her hair.

it’s quiet for a moment. there’s a heaviness that fills the room. 

“how long you gonna have to end up staying?” carmy asks softly, leaning away from her to study her eyes. her face. trying to memorize every detail. he doesn’t miss the way her expression falters at his question. 

the girl doesn’t answer, and her eyes become glossy. 

“shit,” he breathes. her eyes dart to his. “you’re not coming back, are you?” 

“my whole family is there,” she whispers, “my friends. there’s nothing for me here.” 

“really?” he scoffs, “nothing at all?” 

“don’t start, carm.”

“y’know i fuckin’ love you,” he harshly whispers. she flinches slightly at the word. it feels so much heavier without the haze of lust. 

“all we ever do is fuck and fight.” 

“that’s not true,” he argues. 

“it is.” 

the man lets out a sigh of frustration, studying her eyes. her face. her lips. 

“it just…it feels right with you,” his tone softens. 

she doesn’t say anything for a moment, and fantasizes about leaving everything behind and building something in chicago, no matter how much she had grown to hate the weather. she fantasizes about the man in front of her. how she wants to build a life with him. how makes her feel like no other man ever has.

it’s hard to verbalize as her mind racks back and forth, so instead she just leans forward and kisses him softly, fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

carmy reciprocates hesitantly, mind racing with the things he wants to tell her. how he doesn’t care about the distance. how he’ll call her every night. how he’ll keep her room vacant incase she wants to come back. he softly groans into the kiss when she slips her tongue into his mouth, feeling her press her chest flush against his. it feels so good, but he knows it’s wrong to keep pushing the hard conversations away with more sex. 

the girl finds his hand and softly guides it under the hem of her shirt. carmen lets her, fingertips finding the softness of her skin. but when she tries to pull his hand up to her breast, he stops the attempt, fingers firmly pressing against her ribs. 

the girl whines against his lips, moving closer. 

carmy indulges in the taste of her for only a moment more before pulling back and saying her name. she ignores him, chasing his lips, hand moving to grasp his strong bicep. 

“hey,” he turns his head and her kisses land messily along his jaw, “c’mon.” 

she ignores him, knowing he’ll want to keep talking about california, pressing herself closer, wanting to indulge in the feeling of him without thinking about the end. 

he calls her name again, voice coming out strained. she can feel his erection pressing against her, and keeps peppering kisses along his jaw and face. 

“just make me feel good,” she begs against his skin, “please.”

carmen feels himself throb against her, wanting nothing more than to give in. knowing it won’t fix anything. knowing it’ll only complicate things more. 

“thought you said all we do is fuck and fight?” his fingers grip into her, jaw tightening, feeling his resolve begin to crumble beneath her lips. 

“mhm,” she breathes into his skin, “so fuck me again,” trailing her hand down his bare abdomen.

he grips her wrist before she can move any further down. her eyes come up to meet his, taking in the stern look on his face. 

“i know you wanna,” she breathes, a small smile tugging at the edge of her lips, “can feel you throbbing against me.” 

carmen harshly exhales, trying to keep his mind focused. she’s completely right, he thinks, he’s stiff as wood. but he has to stay strong, prove to himself he has control around her.  

“stop fucking around. i wanna talk to you.” his voice comes more sharply than he means. 

the girl stiffens at his tone, pulling away to sit up and retreat. he doesn’t release her wrist. 

“let me go,” she tells him. 

“no. we’re gonna fuckin’ finish this,” his eyebrows furrow, “i didn’t even know you weren’t coming back until now.”

“i don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” her throat feels tight. 

“no? just want me to make you feel better? that all this is to you?” he can’t help the harshness of his tone. 

“carm, i-”

“y’know i’ve never fuckin’ felt this way about anyone? never said ‘i love you’ to anyone but you?” his nose scrunches, eyes appearing glossy. 

“we’ve only known each other for a few weeks.” her tone comes hushed as her chest painfully tightens. 

“yeah, well, i know you enough to know that this is real. that i don’t even-” a sigh, “ i don’t want anybody else but you.” 

“everything you’re saying is just gonna make it harder when i leave.” her voice breaks. 

his furrowed brows soften at the sound, releasing her wrist. she says seated on the bed, trying to take deep breaths and stave off the hot tears that threaten to form. 

“fuck, i-” he pauses, harshly rubs his hand over his face, taking a moment before meeting her eyes again and saying her name. “i like you. a lot.” 

“i know. i like you too, carm.” she rubs the tears away harshly.

“so why can’t we just…enjoy it? while you’re still here? go all out on this?” 

she stares at him blankly for a second as a cue to elaborate. 

the man exhales and shakes his head, trying to piece together what to say. he can’t seem to find the words. she thankfully cuts in. 

“go all out on this?” she asks.

he nods. 

“like, you wanna be my fuckin’…. boyfriend?” 

carmen can’t help the small smile that flashes across his face at the title. he tries to turn his head to hide it but she catches it, playfully shoving his arm. his smile turns to a chuckle. 

“shut up,” she grins, wiping the last stray tear away, “you so wanna be my boyfriend.”

he bring his arms to rest behind his head, staring up at the girl with a lazy smile. he studies her smile. her pretty face. they way in which she’s leaned in closer. 

“fuck yeah, i do. you kidding me?” 

her eyebrows raise at how assertively he says it. her head falls back, and she begins to laugh. partially out of joy and partially out of disbelief. the sound is hearty and sweet, and carmy finds himself wishing he’d make her laugh more. 

the girl leans over him, smile still gracing her face, and she plants a tender kiss against his lips. 

carmen gazes dreamily at her as she sits back up and tucks her hair behind her ears. her face is flushed, and she’s wearing an expression he can’t quite read. they keep staring at each other silently. 

“this is gonna be a bad idea, huh?” she asks after a moment. 

“why?” 

“why wouldn’t it be?” her eyes take in his handsome face. she thinks about how hard it’s gonna be to leave. 

“well…i like you,” he clears his throat, “a lot. actually i’m kind of fuckin’ crazy about you.” 

her gaze softens at this. he continues. 

“and i’m very attracted to you. and we, uh… we have great sex…”

“yeah, we do,” she concedes, “these are all good points.”

“so then, you’re my girlfriend.” 

“carmy…” she sighs, pausing. thinking of what to say. “i don’t like it here. i’ve felt homesick for the past year. i’m really not coming back.” her voice is quiet.

“yeah.” he nods, clearing his throat, “i know you’re not.” he knows, but it’s still hard to be reminded of. 

“so, you’re gonna be okay with that?” 

“i mean…i’m not okay with it, but i’ll deal with it if it means we get to spend these next few weeks together.”

she thinks for a moment, studying his genuine expression.

“okay…but if we do this, we have to promise each other that we’re not gonna get too attached. i really don’t want this to be messy. i like you too much.”

“it won’t be,” he assures, although it feels more like a prayer than a fact. 

“okay,” she whispers, “then you’re my boyfriend i guess.”

his eyes light up a bit at this, and a boyish grin breaks his face.  

“nice.” 

“you’re stupid.” she laughs at his response, lightly shoving his chest again. 

he reaches up and shoves her shoulder back playfully. 

“you are.” 

she scoffs and goes to shove him again, harder this time. he catches her wrist and pulls her forward so she can’t. the girl lets out a yelp of surprise, splaying out over him, face inches from his. 

the simple display of dominance makes her feel dizzy, placing her free hand on his firm chest to center herself. 

“why you like fighting so much, hm?” he asks, his breath ghosting over her lips, “you’re always testing.” 

she tries to pull her wrist away, but his grip is firm. 

“cause you’re…sexy when you’re mad,” she admits, eyes drooping to his lips. 

“i’m sexy when i’m mad?” he has a slight mocking tone. 

“mhm.” she can’t keep her eyes off his lips. “if i worked at your restaurant, i’d probably mess shit up on purpose just so you’d yell at me.”

“jesus,” he lets out a laugh, rubbing his free hand over his face, “what, you like when i get a little rough you?”

“n-no,” she blurts out. the way she averts her eyes immediately reveals her lie.

“yeah, i think you do,” he grins. 

she goes to defend herself again, but shuts her mouth when she can’t think of anything to say. it is kind of true, anyways.

“shut up,” she pushes his face away from her gently, “or else i’ll break up with you.”

this makes him fully laugh. it’s a really nice sound. she watches the way his face crinkles with the big smile. when his laugh fades, he reaches for her chin and pulls her into a gentle kiss. she sighs into the feeling, settling her body closer to his. 

“m’tired,” she mutters into his lips, “you exhaust me.”

carmy rolls his eyes at this. “c’mere.” he says, pulling the sheets back for her. 

the girl slips in next to him and presses her back against his chest, resting her head on his bicep. 

carmy reaches behind him to turn off the lamp, then wraps his arm securely around her. he plants a kiss on her neck and nuzzles his nose into her hair. 

boyfriend. 

he could get used to the title. 

-

carmen gets home late from work on a cold night, late into november, crashing down onto the couch and basking in the silence of the apartment. 

it was a long day in the kitchen, followed by meeting with a contracting crew to update some structural components after hours. 

he had finally taken off after being there for almost 12 hours straight, begrudgingly leaving the renovations to be overseen by richie after having snapped at the crew for the third time. 

he hears soft footsteps padding down the hall, and opens his eyes to see his girlfriend. his sweet, perfect, sexy fucking girlfriend. and it’s like a breath of fresh air, especially after not having seen her the past few days. and she’s wearing a tiny pair of shorts with a crop top that barely covers the curve of her breasts. 

it’s like a reward, he thinks to himself, for all the bullshit he put up with today at the restaurant. 

“welcome home,” she greets, walking past the couch and into the kitchen. 

“hey,” he returns, eyes following her, gaze raking down her backside as she gets herself a glass of water. 

“how was work?” she’s oblivious to the way he’s hungrily looking at her, oblivious to how pent up he feels. 

“long,” he responds, eyes trailing up the length of her legs. 

she lets out a hum of acknowledgement, turning to face him and taking a long sip of water. she catches him watching her intently, his arm stretched out over the back of the couch and neck craned. 

“enjoying the view?” comes her tease.

“y��look good,” he defends. 

“yeah?” 

“mhm.” 

the girl sets her glass down and begins to saunter to the couch. carmen’s eyes follow her closely. 

“how good?” she stops in front of him. 

“good enough to eat.” a small smile twitches the edge of his lip. 

“yeah? wanna taste?” her hands come to her hips, and she pushes her chest out slightly. 

fuck. he shamelessly looks her up and down. this was getting to be dangerous territory. 

“do you wanna go to out to dinner this week?” he changes course, watching her brain stutter for a second. 

“wh-dinner?” 

he nods, resting his head against his hand. she pauses for a moment, studying his face. 

“where?” 

“wherever you want.”

“like…a date?” 

“mhm,” a smirk tugs at the edge of his lips, “cause you’re, uh…my girlfriend now.” 

a grin breaks her face. she thinks for a moment. 

“can we go to your restaurant?” 

“uh…yeah, i guess we can.”

“you guess?” she asks. 

“yeah, we can go. but you’re probably gonna get a lot of, uh…attention.” he admits hesitantly. 

“from who? your staff?” 

he nods. they would probably lose their shit seeing him bring in a girl to eat dinner with. not to mention a girl that looks like her. 

“okay,” she nods, “i’ll dress cute. you can help me pick.”

“yeah?” he likes the sound of that. 

“mhm. whatever you want.” 

carmen rubs his hand over his face then locks his eyes on her again. this girl is going to be the death of him. 

“c’mere,” he beckons.

the girl gently steps forward, standing in between his spread legs. his hand comes to the back of her thigh as he sits forward, gazing up at her with those big blue eyes. he looks so handsome, and she can’t help but place her hands on his face and lean in to kiss him. 

it’s gentle and sweet, and it only makes him want more, tightening his grip on her leg as she pulls away. 

“you taste minty,” she says softly, still leaning over him, stroking her thumb across his face. 

“you sure?” he’s fixated on her lips, “might wanna check again.” he definitely is minty from the nicorette gum he’d been chewing. but it’s worth a shot.

this makes her smile. and she does check again. decides it’s spearmint she tastes. 

before she can pull back, carmy pulls her forward to straddle him. she makes a sound of surprise, but leans into it, wrapping her arms around his neck and continuing to kiss him.

“missed you today,” he slips in between kisses.

“liar,” she smiles against his lips. 

his hands come to her hips, pulling her against him. 

“nah, it’s true,” another kiss, “couldn’t stop fuckin’ thinking about you.” 

“prove it.” she grinds against his bulge, making him tighten his grip. 

“lay down,” he growls, pulling away. there’s a dark gleam in his eyes. 

“or else what?” she challenges 

he grabs both sides of her thighs and stands up with her still straddling his waist, turning and dropping her back onto the couch. 

okay, he’s not in the mood for arguing anymore. good to know. 

carmen cages her with his arms and kisses her deeply before trailing his lips down her jaw, neck, collarbones, only being stopped by the neckline of her shirt. he glances up at her, and she eagerly takes it off. he smiles at the silent act of obedience and continues kissing down her body, barely giving any attention to her breasts before his lips come to her stomach. the girl huffs at this, and he pretends to not notice. 

“what are you doing?” she strains, watching as his lips come to rest just above the waistband of her shorts. 

“m’getting my taste,” he replies casually 

“carmy,” she chides, face becoming red and hot. 

“what?” his fingers hook her waistband, “you embarrassed or something?” another kiss on her hipbone. 

she is, inexplicably. and vulnerable and exposed and horny all at the same time. she hides her face in her arms instead of responding, feeling him slide the shorts down her legs, left clad only in a thin pair of panties. 

carmy hooks his arms around her legs and pulls her closer to his mouth, pressing slow, firm kisses to her covered mound.

the girl lets out a labored breath at the heat of his lips against her clit as he begins to place wet, open mouthed kisses on her covered pussy. her cotton underwear becomes damp with his tongue, and she arches into the feeling with a sharp breath in. 

carmy nuzzles the fabric and deeply inhales, letting out a low groan.

“ah- don’t do that!” the girl tries to clamp her legs shut out of embarrassment, but he holds them firmly in place and presses his face closer to her core, continuing to kiss and suck her through the fabric. 

“you smell good,” carmy defends. “and these are cute,” he snaps the band of her panties. 

she can hardly even process the statement before he starts sliding them down her thighs, bunching up the fabric and putting it in his pocket. 

“hey, you can’t have those,” she strains. 

there’s a delay in carmen’s response—too busy studying her soft pussy up close, lips gleaming with wetness, bundle of nerves twitching under his gaze. 

“i’ll, uh…make it up to you,” his eyes stay fixed on the glorious sight upon him. 

he leans in, flattens his tongue against her clit, and begins to gently lick. 

the girl gasps, and her hands fly down to grab his hair as she releases a whine of pleasure. 

the tantalizing licks to her clit are gentle. almost not enough. she tugs on his hair and tries to scoot forward, so he eases his tongue back. 

when his eyes flicker to her face. her skin is flushed, lip clamped between her teeth, and she’s looking at him hungrily. 

“y’so pretty,” he presses a kiss to her clit, “taste so fuckin’ good.” 

her head falls back and she breathes out sharply. it’s too much to keep making eye contact with him. the slow, teasing licks are the only thing she can concentrate on. 

“you gonna say thank you?” it’s more of a demand than a question, as he glides his finger over her entrance, collecting her syrupy wetness. 

“n-no,” she struggles, face hot and red. 

thank you, really? how embarrassing. 

his tongue flicks over her clit repeatedly, his finger dips inside of her opening ever so slightly. 

“no?” his lips close around her clit and he sucks, cherishing the sound of the first moan she allows to slip out. 

“mmm,” she whines in response, beginning to pant at the feeling of his mouth. 

“c’mon, be a good girl for me?” unlikely, but he asks anyways

“i am,” she argues, pulling his head towards her needy heat. he scoffs at this and continues to swirl his tongue around her clit.

“then say thank you.”

“carm, i’m not saying-ah thank you!” she cuts herself off with a moan as he sinks his finger inside of her. “y’welcome” he replies lowly, a smirk fighting to break his face. 

“shut up. i didn’t-mmh! …mean it like that.”

she sits up onto her forearms, watching him curl his digit upwards inside of her, trying to keep it together. 

“you’re so fuckin’ cute.” he growls, then dives forward to taste her again. his fingers curl rhythmically, tongue lightly swirling her sensitive clit, giving her barely enough stimulation to get by. 

“more,” she whines, bucking her hips up slightly. he gives her a disapproving glance, so she adds a “please”. 

“yeah?” he kisses her clit. 

she frantically nods her head, trying to scoot closer to the man, trying to buck her hips against his hand. 

carmen speeds up the pace of his fingers, sucking her clit into his mouth, free hand gripping onto her thigh. 

“yeah,” she moans, “fuck, you’re so good at that.”

he preens at the praise and swirls her clit with his tongue, beginning to lap at her pussy. when he adds a second finger she cries out his name.

the view above him in combination with how sweet she sounds leaves his cock pulsing beneath his denim. he reaches down with his free hand, undoing his belt buckle and unzipping his pants. he just needs a little something to keep him from fucking her into the couch. 

as he goes to wrap his fingers around his cock, he’s interrupted by the harsh buzz of his phone on the table.

the girl startles at this, and both of their eyes dart to the contact tag. 

fucking richie. 

he doesn’t stop the movement of his fingers, and leans back in to taste her again, ignoring the loud vibrations. he begins to softly stroke himself, groaning into her pussy. 

“do you need to-ah… to get that?

“no,” he replies sharply, “y’taste too fuckin’ good to stop.”

the girl whimpers at the sound of his voice. at how low and raspy and hungry it sounds. 

“let me taste,” her plead comes breathily. 

carmen nearly groans at her request, more than willing to happily oblige. he licks a long stripe up her pussy, collecting her slick on his tongue, then leans over for a kiss. the girl eagerly (and messily) accepts his lips, swirling her tongue around his own, tasting her juices. she tasted herself before off his fingers, but it’s so much better off his tongue. she moans appreciatively and holds the sides of his face, pulling him in for deeper, sloppier, wetter kisses. the vibration of the phone stops, and his fingers continue their pace, curling into her heat, beginning to produce a squelching sound from the slick of her arousal. 

“yes!” she cries into his lips, eyes nearly rolling back into her head. 

“so perfect, y’know that?” he punctuates his words with the thrust of his fingers, gently biting at the girl’s bottom lip. 

she’s only able to muster a moan in response, trailing her hand down her stomach to circle her neglected clit, babbling out a string of “yes yes yes yes.”

the phone vibrates harshly atop the edge of the table again, falling to the floor with a loud thud. 

“fuck!” carmen exclaims, ripping his hand out of his pants. he stops curling his fingers inside of her and leans down to angrily grab his phone. the girl lets out a cry of protest. 

“carmy m’so close, please,” she begs pathetically. grabbing at his arm. 

“be quiet,” he hushes her, scooting back down to his previous position between her legs, “can y’do that for me?” 

she nods eagerly, biting down on her lip. 

carmen answers the call with a harsh “what?” and rolls his eyes at the voice that blares through the other line. 

his fingers remain engulfed in her heat, and he begins to slowly curl them again. the girl lets out a sharp breath and he shoots her a warning look, mouthing a stern “quiet.”

he puts the call on speakerphone, then places it on her stomach, leaning down to softly lick her clit. the girls eyes widen in surprise. a loud voice begins to come through the phone. 

“-that he was going to do it anyways, but i said ‘no way, carmy would have a fuckin’ bitch fit if we didn’t ask!’ so don’t answer the phone all fuckin’ mad, it’s not my fault,” the voice at the other line loudly rambles. carmy lifts his mouth from her pussy to respond

“jesus, richie, just look at the fucking floor plan.” 

“you don’t think we tried that? the vents aren’t lining up with the floor pla- what is that sound?” 

carmy curls his fingers a bit faster, pressing his tongue flat against her clit instead of answering. the girl gasps, convinced her lip is going to start bleeding from how hard she’s biting down on it. 

his eyes flicker up to her, and she mouths a “what the fuck?” 

like an asshole, he just grins in response. 

“hello?? earth to asshole,” richie’s voice cuts in loudly, “what the fuck are you doing over there?” 

carmen pulls away from her pussy with wet lips. he looks pretty, she thinks, like he has lipgloss on or something. 

“m’eating dessert,” he responds truthfully. the girl’s faces grows incredibly hot. 

“you wh- dessert? what is it, is it good?”

“fuck, richie, you-” he sighs, “forget about the vents,” he begins to rub gentle circles around her clit, “just have them do the pipes and go home. and stop fucking calling me.” 

“you think i wanted to call you, you fuckin’ baby? it’s gonna be an extra $200 for them to come back tomorrow and…” he continues to ramble on. meanwhile the girl holds onto carmy’s shoulder, digging her nails in, trying to anchor herself. the feeling of his fingers plunging into her is incredible, and there’s an unexpected rush at the risk of being listened to. of being caught.

carmen laps at her pussy, then closes his lips around her clit and sucks gently. he keeps doing this rhythmically, curling his fingers up into her core, continually switching between gentle licks and slurping and sucking. it’s a particularly deep thrust of his fingers that make her release her lip from her teeth and cry out loudly.

“ah-!” 

carmy’s eyes dart upwards at the moan, watching as she claps a hand over her mouth in shock. 

“what the fuck was that?” richie’s voice sounds after a pause. 

carmen, without a care that they could be caught, continues eating the girl out, giving her a look that says “you are so getting it.”

“hello?? are you watching porn or something, you fuckin’ weirdo?”

he rolls his eyes at the accustation, why would he be watching porn while on the phone? 

“no, i’m not watching fucking porn, richie. finish the vents tomorrow, i’m not arguing about this anymore. goodnight.” he grows increasingly impatient, and it reflects in the quickened pace of his fingers. 

“wait, wait, one more thing-”

“fuck, what?!” carmen snaps. 

the girl lets out a sound of exasperation, coming up on a perpetual orgasm then being denied every time he removes his mouth. the pressure is growing to be unbearable, and she softly whines a “carmyy.”

“i know, baby, i got you,” he whispers back, barely loud enough for her to hear. he brings his mouth to suck on her clit again while richie continues yapping about the fucking vents. fuck the vents. 

carmy just watches the girl’s face, tuning out the voice from the phone. he studies how flushed she is—from her cheeks all the way down to her chest. how she seems like she’s barely holding on. how her legs begin to tremble. how she tries desperately to keep from making noise, pressing her lips together firmly, eyes screwed shut, breathing ragged. 

the wet, squelching sound from her pussy begins to sound again, juices flooding down his fingers, soaking his hand. it feels unbelievable and she begins to lose patience. 

“carm, hang up,” she cries, much louder than she means to. richie’s voice stops in its tracks. 

“are you f-what the hell are you doing?” he asks, “who is that?”  

“none of your fuckin’ buisness,” carmy snaps, “the central vent is the one that’s the most fucked up, so get it sealed and go the fuck home. and don’t fucking call me again.” 

“yeah, yeah, whatever. you have fun over there, assh-” carmy hangs up the phone and tosses it onto the floor. 

“what the fuck, carm?” she asks exasperatedly, face fully flushed. 

“you’re not very good at staying quiet.” 

“you were- ah!” she loses her sentence as he dips back down to swirl her clit with his tongue. 

“i was what?” he mutters into her wetness, slipping his free hand back into his pants. 

“you were doing that!” she cries, tangling her fingers in his curls.

“it feel good?” he laps at her cunt, rhythmically curling his fingers. 

“yeah,” she cries, “please don’t stop again. please.” 

a small smirk breaks on his face at how nicely she’s able to ask, even after being tormented with interruptions moments ago. he rewards her by continuing his steady pace, keeping everything constant, coaxing an orgasm out of her. 

he squeezes the head of his cock, stroking the length of it faster now. she tastes so good, and the sounds she’s making are so pretty, it’s easy to lose himself in the pleasure. 

she bucks her hips against his face, getting his nose wet. her grip on his hair tightens. her body feels hotter, hotter, hotter and-

“carm-!” she gasps, “fuck, baby, that’s so good. m’gonna cum. please keep doing that pleasepleasepleasebabyyesyesyes,” she babbles, grinding her hips against his face, practically riding his fingers which curl so deliciously inside of her. the man has to force himself to not stop and make a snarky comment about how cute she sounds when she’s all fucked out like this . 

with a final few curls of his fingers and another swirl of his tongue, she’s coming completely undone. her head falls back and she rides out the orgasm shakily. 

he bucks his hips into his hand with fervor, groaning into her pussy as he feels himself approaching an embarrassingly easy climax. 

she clenches around his fingers, and he wriggles them as deeply as he can, swirling her clit with his tongue. 

the girl lets out a cry, feeling herself be pushed far past her peak, hand flying down to grab his wrist. 

“ah-carm, s’too much.” 

“you can take it, yeah?” he growls, rutting into his hand. he’s so close. just needs to taste her for a little longer. there’s a hot pulse surging throughout his body. 

the girl’s breathing becomes loud, a rapid inhale exhale inhale exhale. 

at the labored sound, he takes some mercy on her and stops moving his fingers, focusing solely on lapping at her throbbing clit. his cock twitches in his hand, and with a few final frenzied pumps, he cums into his palm.

“fuck,” he groans, resting his head on her pelvis for a moment. the two of them bask in the post-orgasm high, catching their breaths. carmen’s jaw aches a bit. he plants one last kiss on her oversensitive clit, then pulls away, easing his fingers out slowly.

“kiss me,” she pleads breathily, feeling slightly dizzy from the orgasm. 

“yeah? wanna taste yourself again?” his voice is low, kind of raspy. 

she nods eagerly.

he leans over and, to her surprise, shoves his fingers in her mouth, swirling them around her tongue, making sure she gets every drop she left behind. the girl enthusiastically cleans his fingers, taking them deeply into her mouth. 

the moment he eases them out, he dives into her lips hungrily, shoving his tongue in her mouth, tasting the heavenly mix of her saliva and arousal. 

she grabs his face and licks her cum from the side of his lips, from his chin, gathering it before kissing him frantically again. 

“mm, thank you,” she mutters against his lips sweetly. 

“y’welcome.” he loves how she thanks him. 

the taste is intoxicating, and he’s tempted to lick her pussy again just so the both of them can continue to indulge. but there’s a sticky mess on his hand and the inside of his boxers, so he pulls away from her lips, and grabs a tissue from the box on the coffee table. 

the girl’s eyes widen in surprise as he eases his cum-covered hand out of his boxers.

“is that- did you..?”

he wipes the white substance off his hand, small small teasing the edge of his lips. 

“uh…yeah. that was, um… that was really hot,” he admits.  

“yeah, except the part where you put me on the phone with your employee.”

“nah…” he shakes his head, a smirk on his face, “i think you liked that.”

“wha-no i did not,” her eyes widen, “it was so embarrassing.” it was embarrassing, but it really turned her on—not that he needs to know that.  

“embarrassing?”

“yes, embarrassing! get that dumb grin off your face, it was!” 

this only makes him smile harder, beginning to laugh. 

“yeah? that why you soaked my fuckin’ fingers?” 

she sits up and reaches for her tank top, a bashful expression on her face. 

“no. that’s just because it felt good.” 

“you were squeezing me like crazy trying to stay quiet,” he continues to try and provoke her, liking how feisty she becomes. 

“give me my panties back.” the girl rolls her eyes and ignores his statement. 

“what panties?” he asks cluelessly. 

“carmy.”

“yeah, baby?” 

she scoffs and mutters a “whatever” before standing up and slipping on her shorts. pantiless. there’s a creeping blush on her face as she wonders what he even wants them for. 

“so, tomorrow?” he asks before she can walk away, “for our date?” 

she pauses, then nods. 

“but we’re not going to your restaurant.” 

“why not?” there’s a small smirk on his face. 

she gives him a look that says, because you just ate me out on the phone with the guy that would probably be serving us, dumbass, but stays quiet, beginning to walk to the stairs 

carmen lets out a chuckle, and stands to follow her after cleaning his hand off. he hooks the waistband of her shorts and pulls her back. hands coming to her hips to steady her, his chest flush against her back. 

“c’mon, don’t be like that,” he leans down to kiss her neck. she can feel his smirk against her skin, “you hungry? y’eat yet?” 

she shakes her head no, closing her eyes at the sensation of his kisses. 

“no you didn’t eat or no you’re not hungry?” he asks, nipping the skin below her earlobe. 

“both,” she exhales, leaning back against him, her hands coming overtop his. she suddenly notices how big they are splayed out over her hips.

“you haven’t eaten dinner yet?” he stops kissing her. 

“m’not hungry,” she breathes, “keep kissing me there.”

he removes his hands from her hips and steps back. she lets out a noise of disappointment and turns to face him with a pout. he doesn’t see this, though, already walking to the kitchen and turning on the light to make her something. 

“carmy,” she calls, following him, “it’s late. let’s just go to bed.”

he ignores her, opening their cabinets to retrieve a box of spaghetti. 

“hey,” she grabs his arm, leaning to meet his eyes, “come on. i wanna cuddle.” 

“we will. but i’m gonna make you dinner first.” his voice is firm. he pulls his arm away from her and reaches down to grab a pot. 

he’s so demanding. but the gesture makes her feel incredibly affectionate towards the man, so it’s hard to be mad at.

as he fills the pot with water, the girl snakes her arms around his waist and hugs him from behind, pressing herself flush against his back. 

“thank you,” she mumbles into his shirt, taking a deep breath of their shared laundry detergent. her hand sneaks under his shirt and she drags her fingers into the deep cut of his v line. 

carmen reaches his hand behind him, caressing her hip without saying anything in response. 

she pulls away after a moment and he puts the pot of water on to boil. 

“you eating enough?” 

his question catches her off guard. 

“i- what?” 

“you heard me.” he crosses his arms.

she stares at him for a moment, studying his tightly set jaw. the way it twitches a bit.

“yeah, i am.”  

“yeah?” he looks like he doesn’t believe her. 

and maybe she had been a bit forgetful lately, missing breakfast, oftentimes coming home too tired to make dinner and opting for a snack instead. she didn't think he had been so observant, though. 

“yes.” her tone is quiet. 

he just stares at the girl silently, striking blue eyes boring a hole into her. she crumbles under his gaze. 

“i’ve just been…stressed. i don’t know. haven’t had much of an appetite.”

“what are you stressed about?” 

“going back home i guess,” she admits quietly, shuffling on her feet. 

he doesn’t respond, giving her the opportunity to elaborate without pressure. 

“i just- it’s gonna be hard. y’know when i told you my mom and i have a complicated relationship?” 

he nods, and she continues. 

“yeah, that was like…understatement of the year.” 

he nods, a knowing look on his face. 

“yeah, no. i, uh…i know exactly what you mean.” he really does. 

“and um, she’s sick. like, not entirely there,” she points to her head, “so she gets really mean. but then she can also be the nicest, most motherly person. its just…really unpredictable.” 

it was almost uncanny, the way in which he pictures donna as she gives her description. 

“i, uh…yeah. i get it,” he clears his throat, “i’ve dealt with someone like that my whole life.” he intently locks eyes with her, wishing he could say more to alleviate her dread. 

“how did-how do you deal with it?” she asks quietly, after a moment. 

“i, uh…i don’t really?” he rubs his neck, letting out a sardonic chuckle, “i haven’t talked to her in…months probably.”

“really?” 

“yeah, i’ve, um…been kind of an asshole, actually. my sister is really the only one that deals with her.” 

“you’re not an asshole,” she locks eyes with him, “well, sometimes you are. but not cause of that. that’s more like a…i dunno, a defense response.”

he laughs at her bluntness. 

“so i am an asshole, just not for that?” 

“correct.”

“how am i an asshole?” 

“you’ve been trying to make me jealous since i got here.” 

“not trying. it actually worked very well.” he has a stupid smile on his face when he says that. 

“shut up!” she laughs, shoving her hands against his chest as hard as she can. he barely moves from it, grabbing both her wrists firmly with an amused look on his face. she struggles against his grip, trying to shake the feeling of arousal that comes with how easily he’s able to overpower her. 

“why’re you so fiesty, huh?” he grins, pulling her closer. 

“cause you’re a fucker, that’s why.” she tries again to pull her arms back, but to no avail. her face feels hot, and she becomes hyper aware of the fabric touching her skin, the hair on her neck, the tingle of the rough grip on her wrists. his face is much closer now, and she fights the urge to lean forward and indulge.

“yeah?” 

“mhm,” her response overlaps his. 

“what are you gonna do about it?” he mocks, “huh?”

her eyes flicker down his face. he has a stupid fucking smirk plastered on his lips. fuck, she wants to kiss him. 

an idea pops into her head. 

the girl leans forward, gently ghosting her lips over his own. her tongue darts out and she licks his bottom lip, then sucks it into her mouth and bites softly. then she gives him a soft and gentle barely there kiss. 

she feels his grasp on her wrist loosen, so she splays her hand over his chest. 

her lips hover over his for just a moment more, and then she shoves him. 

carmy stumbles back slightly, less prepared that time, hands coming behind him to steady himself on the counter. when he meets her eyes again he has a dark glint in his eyes. almost like anger, but hungrier.

the next thing she knows, he yanks her into his chest, grabs her hip and roughly bends her over the countertop. 

she just thinks to herself, finally. 

carmen tugs her hips back until her forearms fall to the counter and she arches her spine. until she’s flush with his pelvis and he’s pressing his achingly hard cock against her ass. 

“such a bratty fuckin’ girl,” his tone is rough, strained.  “you know that? fuckin’ had it with you.” 

“i’m n-” she cuts herself off with a gasp as he harshly tugs the waistband of her shorts up, wedging the fabric between her cheeks and giving himself a nice view of the supple skin.

“you’re what?” he smooths his hand over her ass, watching her arch into his touch. watching as she opens her mouth to say something, then close, staying silent and shuffling her hips against his groin. 

carmen lets out a groan—half frustration, half arousal, smoothing his hands over her hamstrings and firmly squeezing the soft flesh before trailing back up to her ass. 

“you doing this on purpose?” both hands grab her ass, kneading, pulling her closer against his hardness. 

no response. she can’t, not without moaning. 

“hmm?” he shoves his hips forward into her, “you trying to get a reaction outta me tonight? or are y’really just that fucking bratty?” the hand gripping her flesh squeezes harder. 

“i-mmh…that-…keep doing that.” she chooses to ignore his question. 

“answer me.”

still nothing. 

“you want me to spank you? cause that’s what’s gonna happen if you keep this shit up.”

his words make her stomach flip. of course she does. she hides her smile in her arms and stays quiet, pushing back into him. hoping he’ll stick to his words. 

carmen raises his hand, and cracks it down on her right cheek, grabbing the flesh immediately after to ease some of the sting. 

“ah-!” she grips the countertop, arching her spine. his hand leaves behind a hot, tingling sensation, flooding through her body like a wave. 

“y’okay?” he tries to sound caring but his tone comes out rough, heavy with arousal. 

“yeah.” better than okay. incredibly horny, actually.  “that hurt?” his hand smooths over the reddening skin. 

“no,” she shakes her head, pushing back against him again, “thought you were gonna spank me.”

she cranes her neck trying to get a look at the man. his pupils are blown, face is rosy, and when she meets his eyes there’s a dangerous glint to them. 

he wedges her shorts up higher, exposing more of her ass, then smacks her in the same spot without warning. harder this time. 

“fuck-!” she gasps sharply. it hurts, but in a way that has her pressing her thighs together desperately to try and get some relief. 

“can you take one more, pretty girl?” 

“yeah,” she whines enthusiastically, shuffling her hips back against his groin. 

“yeah? y’so tough, baby.” his voice has a slight mocking edge to it as he does everything in his power to not yank the shorts down her legs and fuck her into the counter. 

“just…shut up and do it.” she tries to mask her eagerness, but it doesn’t work very well. 

he scoffs, and rubs his large hand over her supple skin. when he feels her relax, he raises it and cracks down on her other cheek. 

she partially muffles the loud cry by biting down on her forearm, feeling a few tears begin to form in her eyes. 

“you have such a cute ass, y’know that?” he squeezes both of her cheeks in tandem, pulling them apart, pushing them together, “can already see the handprints forming.” his voice is low and rough.

“wh-really?” her brain feels fuzzy with desire as she tries to switch gears. 

“you wanna see?” 

she nods her head frantically, butterflies arising at the thought. 

carmen pulls his phone out of his back pocket and holds it over her, snapping a picture with a low groan. 

“look back at me,” he demands softly. 

she does, peering over her right shoulder to see him holding the camera facing her. the embarrassment makes her face feel hot, but she lets him take the picture anyway, looking into the lense with a small pout on her face. 

“so fucking pretty,” he growls, lowering the phone and clicking on the picture he took, admiring it for a moment before turning the phone so she could see. 

it was quite the picture—cherry red handprints over her round ass, shorts wedged up so far they look like underwear, the curves of her body accentuated by the angle. 

carmy swipes to the left and reveals the photo of her looking back at the camera, all flushed cheeks and pouty lips and misty eyes. she knows she should probably feel embarrassed, but seeing herself like that just makes the throbbing between her legs intensify. 

carmen turns off the phone and puts it back in his pocket. he leans over and grabs her face, studying her with furrowed brows before leaning down kissing her firmly. 

“you okay?” another kiss, “really?”

she nods, eagerly reciprocating the kiss, moaning a soft “mhm” against his lips.  

“didn’t hurt too bad?” his brows are furrowed, their movements beginning to quicken. she slips her tongue into his mouth and she begins to kiss him faster, losing herself in his lips. 

carmy reciprocates for a moment before muttering a gentle “hey,” pulling back a bit, “answer me.” his gaze flickers over the sheen on her cheeks, left behind from a few stray tears. 

her eyes flutter open, fighting the urge to not chase his lips. 

“it didn’t hurt,” she affirms hazily, “felt good. can you put it in? please?”

“jesus, christ” he groans, dipping back in for another kiss, “want me to fuck you? needy fuckin’ girl.”

she nods with a small, bashful smile and softly nips at his bottom lip, fighting the urge to bite harder. 

carmen straightens to his previous position behind her and slips his fingers beneath the hem of her bunched up shorts. he pulls them to the side to reveal her glistening pussy, letting out a sharp exhale at the sight. he’s about to reach out and touch her when she gasps.

“carm, the water.”

it angrily bubbles and pours down the sides of the pot, sizzling when it splashes onto the flames. 

“fuck,” he pulls away from her, quickly moving to turn off the burner. “stay right there.” 

and she would’ve, had another fucking phone not started ringing. 

the girl cries out his name frustratedly, just wanting him to come back over and fuck her brains out. 

“it’s not mine this time,” carmy defends, adjusting the tent of his pants. he’s so hard it’s almost painful, increasingly eager to get back behind her. 

she huffs and straightens, readjusting the uncomfortably wedged-up shorts as she follows the sound of the ringer. when she retrieves her phone from between the couch cushions, her heart drops at the contact name. 

mom.

in a single moment it’s like the air gets sucked from her lungs. her skin stops tingling with that warm heat, body stops buzzing with pleasure—all the good feelings flood from her suddenly. 

carmen wipes down the stove, drying the water that had boiled over before refilling the pot and turning the heat back on. his roommate talks in a hushed, urgent tone in the living room, and he tries to refrain from curiously moving closer and eavesdropping. curiosity almost gets the better of him, but a few more moments pass and he hears delicate footsteps approaching. 

he looks up, and catches the sight of her tear-streaked face. her big, sad eyes. a pit forms in his stomach. 

“everything okay?” he’s unable to hide the concern in his tone. 

she doesn’t say anything. she can’t. so she just rushes forward and crashes into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. 

“hey,” he soothes, tightly reciprocating the hug, “what happened?” he kisses the side of her head. 

it takes her a minute before she’s able to verbalize, just wanting to nuzzle herself as far into his chest as she can, wishing she could just disappear into him completely. 

he says her name, pulling away slightly to get a look at her sweet, sad face. “what’s goin’ on, huh?” 

“i’m going back next week,” it’s hard to make eye contact with him, so she looks to the side with blurry vision. 

“what?” it’s like a punch in the stomach. 

“i-…my mom,” she sighs exasperatedly, “she’s just getting worse,” at this point the tears stream down her cheeks. 

he cups her face with both hands, wiping them away with his thumbs. he just stares at her, not knowing exactly what to say to make this shitty situation better. 

“i’m-….fuck, i’m sorry.” he puts his forehead on hers, “m’so so sorry.” he doesn’t know exactly what he’s apologizing for—the state of her mother or the dread of her sudden departure. either way, there’s this overwhelming feeling of loss trying to wrap his head around how soon next week really is. 

“m’gonna go to bed,” she mutters, tightly closing her eyes to stop the flow of tears, nose brushing against his. 

“you don’t wanna eat with me?” 

she gives a small shake of her head, having lost her appetite at the news. 

carmy wants to push it. but she just looks so tired and sad, he figures it’s better not to. his hand comes to the back of her neck, and he pulls her into a bear hug, kissing the side of her head. 

“go wait in my bed for me,” another kiss, “i’ll be up in a bit.”

“i need a shower,” she mutters into his neck, “you made me all…sticky.”

he can’t help but let out a humorous exhale, finding a small bit of relief from her words. 

“yeah? sorry about that.” he has a soft, barely there smile on his face. 

“you know i love you, carmy?” 

her quiet confession stops his train of thought. stops the noise of it all. it kind of feels like it even stops his heart, just for a second.

it was something she hadn’t yet said to him without the hazy high of lust. something she had been waiting on until it felt real. 

carmen eases away from the tight hug, getting a good look at her face. she’s entirely genuine, brows furrowed and eyes glossy, searching his expression for reassurance. he dips forward and kisses her softly, hand caressing her cheek. 

“i know,” his thumb traces along her jaw, “i love you too.”

she turns her head to the side and kisses his hand.

“you gonna come to california with me?” she softly bites his thumb. 

“yeah, baby.” he nods. it’s a lie, and they both know that. 

sometimes it’s easier to fantasize about what could be than accept what never will. 

-

it’s far too late into the night by the time carmen has eaten and showered. he blearily trudges down the hall and pushes his door open. and like a breath of fresh air, there she was. cuddled up in his blankets, face buried in his pillow. it feels incredibly domestic, and he finds himself wishing he could come home to this every night of his life. 

carmen eases into bed slowly as to not wake her, shuffling his body against hers. then he just watches her for a bit. 

he watches her chest rise and fall. watches the way her lips slightly part with her heavy breaths. she looks so peaceful unconscious, like there isn’t a worry in the world. 

he thinks about how selfishly he wants to keep that placating expression on her face. wants to keep her to himself. thinks about how selfishly he wishes she didn’t even have a family to return to—how fucked up is that?  it’s almost surreal, staring at her sleeping form, mourning her loss while she’s still in front of him. tangible and soft and beautiful and sleeping right there. 

carmen reaches out and strokes her cheek at the thought, then leans in to press a gentle kiss to her resting lips. it doesn’t make him feel better like he thought it would. 

he turns off the light and pulls her in close. 

-

pt 2 of i didn't know

[bellobambino]

"Mangia."

A Luigi Mangione Fluff Piece

The pov for this piece is from an unnamed girl, something more than friends.

Summary: Didja eat? lol. Luigi is italian, so he's a feeder. Late night Jersey diner run with LuLu.

586w

-----

Luigi and I always end up in this exact booth when it’s late, we’ve run out of shit to do, but we don’t want the night to end. Lakeside Diner is the bee’s knees in North Jersey. Luigi’s dad is friends with the owner, and they go way back.

Luigi is sitting across from me, arms folded, with a look on his face that tells me his gears are turning. I know what’s coming.

“Have you consumed anything other than coffee in the past 24 hours?” He nods at my mug, his eyes dark and accusing.

“Yeah,” I say, slowly tearing apart the paper sleeve to my straw. “I had some fruit earlier.” I lie.

He gives me a tired, incredulous look. He knows me. He can always tell when I’m lying, and that’s always pissed me off. I can’t get anything past him. But he’s also the only person who seems to get me—really see me.

“What?” I ask dryly.

“Fruit,” he responds as if it personally offends him. “I’ve been with you all day. How did you slip fruit by me without me noticing?”

I half-ass a shrug, hoping he’ll lose interest and drop it. But this is Luigi, and Luigi doesn’t drop anything. Never has.

He reaches for the menus we haven’t touched and starts flipping through them with the look of a single dad trying to feed a picky toddler. “Are you in the mood for fries or something more like grilled cheese?”

Why is he giving me the illusion of choice? “I’m not hungry,” I try.

Don’t think he even hears me. “This place has great cole slaw. Have you tried it?”

“Cole slaw? No. Lu, it’s two in the morning. I’m fine with the decaf.” I try to say it kindly because he’s trying. I wish he wouldn’t, but he’s a man compelled.

He nods, still not looking at me, and flips the page. “They’ve got lots of omelette options,” he says, pointing at a picture with complete earnestness, waiting for my response.

He’s so perfect, I hate him. “Thank you, Luigi. I’m just not hungry.” I try to sound sincere and convincing.

But Luigi is impossible. The man has never dropped an argument in his life. He sees a problem he can fix, and he won’t stop until it’s solved. Right now, I’m his problem.

He stands up and heads to the pastry case.

Oh no.

I try to turn around and wave him off, but he’s deliberately ignoring me at the counter. I lean back in the booth, defeated.

My stomach growls. Goddammit.

A minute later, he comes back with a chocolate-dipped almond horn and sets it in front of me without ceremony. I stare at it. It’s glossy, gorgeous, massive. He knows me too well.

“Mangia,” he says.

I sigh because I’m conceding this one for the sake of our relationship. I break off a piece and take a bite. It’s dense, chewy, and perfect. Much like Luigi himself. I would throw myself in front of a bus for him.

He’s chuffed, his toothy grin lighting up his whole face, his eyes crinkling under the wattage of his pleased smile. He must think he’s really saved the day.

I pick up my phone to look at anything other than his victorious face. He leans back, closes his eyes, and sighs. Success for Luigi.

If my world went to hell, he’d be the first one to grab me an almond horn. And I’d eat it every time.

[thef1diary]

boss!daniel being a menace during the christmas party; stealing inappropriate touches when no one is looking, whispering the filthiest things while you're in a conversation with your coworkers. at some point he can't wait any longer so he drags you upstairs and fucks you in the nearest room 🫠

🩵

— nonnie, I’ll just have you know this request hasn’t left my mind for daysss. constantly been thinking about all the tricks he’d pull on you 😵‍💫 18+ content below

The office Christmas party was loud, bustling with chatter and laughter, but all you could focus on was Daniel. He’d been hovering nearby all evening, his presence impossible to ignore. Every so often, he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered the filthiest things imaginable.

“You look so good in this, sweetheart,” he murmured while you were mid-conversation with your coworkers, his voice low and teasing. “Too good, really. Makes me want to bend you over a desk right here, fuck you, and let all my employees watch.”

His smirk only grew when he caught the way your breath hitched, your eyes darting nervously around the room to see if anyone heard him. They didn’t. Completely absorbed in their own discussions, they were oblivious to the heat blooming on your cheeks or the way your thighs squeezed together in response.

He stepped in close, his frame blocking yours from their view before his hand slid up to your chest, fingers finding the peak of your nipple through your shirt. The pinch made you gasp softly, your eyes darting around to see if, again, anyone noticed.

“Relax,” he murmured, popping a button on your shirt. “No one’s looking.”

Your breath caught as he popped another, then another, his hand pulling the fabric aside just enough to expose your cleavage, the hardened peak of your nipple brushing the edge.

“No bra,” he said under his breath, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin. “You really came to the party like this? Reckless.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, Daniel tilted the drink he held in his other hand, the cold liquid splashing down your chest.

The sharp gasp you let out drew attention immediately. Heat rushed to your face as you quickly clutched your shirt together, hiding your exposed skin before anyone could see.

“Oh no,” Daniel said, all wide-eyed innocence. “I’m so sorry!” He grabbed a handful of napkins from the table, dabbing at your chest.

“Let me help,” he added, his voice soft and sincere, but the deliberate swipe of his fingers grazing your tits told a different story.

You swallowed hard, biting back a curse as he continued his charade. “We should—excuse us, everyone, I need to help her clean up.”

Before you knew it, Daniel was guiding you out of the room, his hand resting low on your back. The moment the elevator doors closed, his mask of guilt slipped, replaced by a smirk that made your stomach flip.

“Messy little thing,” he murmured, glancing down at your disheveled blouse. “Let’s make you messier.”

He led you into a private office on another floor, shutting the door behind him. The second the lock clicked, his lips were on yours, his hands tugging your shirt open completely.

“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you tonight?” he groaned, fingers sliding under the waistband of your skirt. He hooked his thumb into your panties—lace, of course, part of the “uniform” he’d required for your position—and tugged them down.

Daniel pushed you onto the couch, his body covering yours as he slid his cock into your cunt with a single rough thrust. The stretch was intoxicating, your hands clutching at his shirt as he moved, his pace unforgiving.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him as his cock drove into you again and again. “You take me so well,” he murmured against your ear, his teeth grazing the shell. “This is why I hired you as my assistant, hm? You’re so good for me, keeping your cunt wet and ready for me. To please me, my good little slut.”

“Y-yes, sir,” you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders as he held you firmly in place, his pace unrelenting. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small office, mixed with your desperate moans and his ragged breaths.

When you clenched around him, Daniel’s rhythm faltered, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as he buried himself deep and spilled into you. He didn’t pull out, not right away. Instead, he stayed pressed against you, his lips trailing down the column of your neck, his voice low and sinful.

“Stay still,” he murmured, withdrawing slowly. You shivered at the emptiness, only to gasp as he slid your lacy panties back up, trapping his cum inside you. His fingers brushed over the fabric, pressing lightly. “Keep it in. That’s your job, isn’t it? Taking care of me and my mess.”

When the two of you returned to the party, no one seemed to notice anything amiss, but you couldn’t focus on their conversations. All you could feel was the warm, slick reminder of Daniel’s Christmas gift in your pussy, soaking into the lace of your panties.

Daniel caught your eye from across the room, lifting another drink in a mock toast as if to say, Merry Christmas.

want more boss!daniel? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

Convenient Inconvenience

Summary: Forced to share a tent on a mission, the simmering tension between you and Xaden finally reaches a breaking point.

Fictober Challenge

This mission had dragged on longer than expected, forcing you to settle in for the night. Luckily, Xaden had packed a small tent as an emergency measure, but he’d only packed one. That had left you frustrated, realizing that it was partly your fault too, for not bringing your own. In your defense, you’d assumed the mission would end smoothly.

A charged silence hung between you both as the reality of sharing a tent set in. You tried to keep your focus on unrolling your mat, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the tension that had been growing between you for months. The cramped space felt even smaller with him inside, every move amplifying your heartbeat as you sensed him close behind, watching you.

The silence became unbearable, heavy with something you couldn’t name, as you lay on your mat trying to feign ease. But your heart raced each time he shifted closer. Every so often, his gaze flicked over to you, lingering a bit too long, and it was both thrilling and terrifying.

You had to say something, break the silence.“You really couldn’t have packed an extra tent?” you muttered, attempting to keep your voice casual but failing to mask the edge in your tone. 

He could’ve argued, pointing out that you’d forgotten your own, but he let it go, opting for a softer response. “Well, I’m sure we’ll manage for one night,” he replied, his words coming out quieter than he’d intended.

A moment passed, thick with unspoken words, and you could practically feel his smirk. He turned onto his side, facing you, his arm brushing against yours. The touch was light, barely there, yet it sent a spark down your spine. You glanced over, meeting his gaze, steady and intense, as if waiting to see if you’d pull away.

“Are you uncomfortable?” he asked, a hint of amusement threading his voice, almost challenging you.

You forced a laugh, shrugging, though his nearness made it hard to think straight. “I’m fine, Riorson. Just… trying to get comfortable.” You avoided his gaze, but his eyes traced over you, trailing over your face, lingering on your mouth.

Another moment passed, the air growing thicker, every breath loaded with anticipation. He shifted again, his hand brushing against yours deliberately this time, his fingers grazing your knuckles, his touch light, almost testing. “Strange,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver through you. “You don’t look fine.”

You turned to him, finally meeting his gaze head-on. His eyes were dark, intense, and filled with unspoken desire. “You’re… seeing things,” you managed, struggling against the heat radiating from him and the way his gaze seemed to strip away any defense you had.

“Am I?” he asked, his tone smooth and teasing, his mouth twitching into the faintest of smirks. “Because you seem a little… tense.”

You gaze flicked involuntarily to his mouth, and that fucker noticed, his smirk deepening. “And if I am?”

His hand shifted, his fingers tracing a light, almost absentminded line along your wrist, the touch setting your skin alight. “I could help with that,” he murmured, his eyes encouraging as they locked on yours, his face now only inches away, the question clear in his gaze.

You wanted to tell it was because of him, but you had a feeling he already knew.

You swallowed, your words caught in your throat, the tension between you impossible to ignore. His fingers continued their maddening path, traveling up your arm, igniting every inch they touched. You could’ve sworn he was slowly undressing you with his eyes, ready to ravish you at any moment.

He leaned in, his breath ghosting over your lips, his gaze heavy-lidded, dangerous. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, “and I will.”

Your mind went blank, no rational thought left. You wanted him, you needed him. So instead of stopping him, you closed the distance, pressing your lips to his. The kiss was soft but deepened quickly, years of restraint breaking in an instant. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, your bodies pressed together in the small space as the air around you cracked. Each touch, each kiss fueled a fire you’d tried for so long to ignore. You’d probably regret this in the morning, but right now, you didn’t care. All you cared about was him- his touch, his kiss, and everything that would follow.

[nahoney22]

Oooo, I'm excited for your celebration!!! Congratulations!

Clone: Commander Wolffe

List: NSFW 🔞

Prompts: D17 with S20

Proof of age: I saw Jedi in the theater when it released in 1983. The Rancor will always be my fave creature in the SW universe.

Congrats again! Can't wait to see what you come up with!!

@dreamie411

Make Up Your Mind*** 🌊

🫧 Pairings: Commander Wolffe X Female!Reader

word count: 3k

Prompts:

• “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re going to forget that other guys name.”

• “Stars, you're so much better than the last person I was with."

When Wolffe finally had enough of letting you slip into hands that weren’t his own, he makes sure to remind you who you really belong to.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only, explicit sexual content and language, mutual pining, minor alcohol consumption, flirting, reader is implied to have done hook-ups before, rough kissing, nudity, fingering, vaginal sex, dom!Wolffe, creampie, confessions of feelings, friends to lovers, tender aftercare.

Authors Note: Sorry for the wait @dreamie411, hope this is okay. 🩵

As you stand behind the bar at 79’s, wiping down the surface, you hear a gravelly voice that you recognise all too well. One would assume it was any of the Clones, but there was something different about the Commander that you just could tell the difference with.

You glance up, locking eyes with the man who has spent far too much time lingering around this bar, and a smirk tugs at your lips. Commander Wolffe is eyeing you with the same intensity he always does, though there’s something unmistakably different in the way he’s watching you now.

“What did you get up to last night?” he asks, voice low but edged with curiosity—or maybe something more.

You raise an eyebrow, already knowing that he’s fully aware of what you were up to. After all, he’d spent the better part of the night silently fuming as you entertained the advances of a flirtatious patron, someone who might’ve turned into a one-night fling if the mood had struck you. You’ve always been casual about these things—no strings attached, just a bit of fun. But judging by Wolffe’s barely-concealed irritation, it’s clear he wasn’t thrilled watching you entertain someone else.

“Just this… and that,” you answer with a cheeky grin, moving away briefly to serve a trooper from the 212th. When you return, Wolffe is still leaning against the bar, his eyes following your every move. You tilt your head, feigning nonchalance. “Why do you ask?”

He swirls the ice in his empty glass, the tension in his shoulders visible even in the dim strobe lights. “Can’t a man be curious?”

Your gaze sharpens with mischief. “Depends. Not many men are curious about my sex life unless it’s for a reason.”

His jaw clenches ever so slightly, and you relish the way your words get under his skin. There’s a charge in the air between you, a tension that neither of you has been willing to break. “Care for a refill?” you ask, the words slipping out smoothly.

Before he can respond, you reach for his glass, brushing your fingers against his just long enough to feel the warmth of his skin. It’s a fleeting touch, but it sends a ripple through you that’s hard to ignore.

Admitted, you have thought about the idea of being with Wolffe before—how could you not? He’s rugged, disciplined, and there’s an undeniable magnetism in his reserved demeanor. And utterly sexy.

Yet, despite his clear jealousy, he’s never made a move. Maybe it’s the restraint that comes with his rank or the weight of his responsibilities, but it leaves you wondering if it’s just that what holds him back.

You pour him his usual drink, sliding it back across the bar before he can even reach for his credits. As he starts to pay, you place your hand over his, stopping him. “It’s on me, Commander,” you say with a wink.

Wolffe’s voice drops a notch, almost a murmur. “I want to give you something. You deserve it.”

You hum softly, leaning closer across the bar, teasing him with a slow, deliberate gaze that traces from his furrowed brow down to the scar that cuts across his eye, finally resting on his tense, but oh-so-inviting lips. “And what do you think I deserve, hmm?” Your voice is a playful whisper, laced with just enough suggestion to make him falter.

For a brief moment, it’s as if time stops. Wolffe’s attention is locked entirely on your lips, on the way your breath gently fans against his face. The lights of the club dance across your features, casting you in a soft, almost hypnotic glow.

He’s caught, just for a second, torn between giving in to whatever’s been simmering between you two and holding himself back. But as much as he wants to close that distance, something pulls him away.

He takes his drink, your fingers slipping away from his as he steps back, eyes soft with something left unspoken. You watch him walk away, a sigh slipping from your lips.

When 79’s finally closes for the night, the hum of laughter and music fades into silence as you finish tidying up. The bar is empty, save for the clinking of glasses you swiped from tables and the faint buzz of neon lights overhead. You wave goodnight to the other workers as they exit through the back door, their voices echoing faintly down the corridor. With a tired but satisfied sigh, you begin locking up for the night, turning toward the entrance when you feel the unmistakable weight of someone’s gaze.

A knowing smirk pulls at your lips. You don’t need to turn around to recognise who it is. “We’re closed, you know,” you call out, your voice playful.

But when you finally do turn, you find Wolffe leaning against the bar, his back to you, shoulders tense. He doesn’t move at first, the muscles in his back taut under his armor as he collects his thoughts. Something about his posture is different tonight—more guarded, more intense. You step closer, curiosity mingling. “What is it, Commander?” you ask as you lean against the counter beside him.

He straightens up slightly, turning his head just enough for you to catch the edge of his stormy gaze. “I need to talk to you.”

There’s no hint of teasing in his tone, and the seriousness in his eyes causes your flirty retort to falter. You’ve never seen him this conflicted, this on edge and your smirk fades. “What’s going on?” you ask softly, cautious.

For a moment, he just stares at you, a battle clearly raging behind those eyes. And then, with a voice rougher than you’ve ever heard, he speaks. “You drive me mad, you know that?” frustration lacing every word. “Watching you, knowing you’re letting others close when all I can think about is how badly I want you. How I’ve wanted you for longer than I care to admit.”

Your breath catches, pulse quickening at the raw intensity of his confession. Wolffe steps closer, closing the distance between you in one stride, his eyes locking onto yours with a hunger that sends a shiver down your spine. “I’m done holding back,” he says, voice dark and laced with that possessiveness you’ve always suspected simmered beneath. “You want to know what I’ve been thinking about? About having you, in every way. About making sure you never forget it’s me you should belong to.”

The heat in his words draws something deep and electric from within you. “Wolffe…” you whisper, but it’s lost as he crowds you against the bar, his body radiating a warmth that sends your senses into overdrive. The look in his eyes is almost feral, desire mixed with a longing that makes your head spin.

His lips are on yours in an instant, rough and claiming, as though he’s been holding back for too long and can’t bear it any longer. You respond in kind, meeting his intensity, hands grasping at his armor as he presses you into the counter. The kiss is a clash of need and frustration, every pent-up emotion pouring into the way his mouth moves against yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, begging for entry which you allow, your fingers tugging in his textured hair as his tongue dominates your own.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, your lips swollen from the fervour of it. “I’ll give you everything,” he whispers on your lips, voice a low rumble that reverberates through your chest.

There’s no hesitation in you now. You’ve wanted this just as much as he has, and the fact that he’s finally lost control is exhilarating. “Then show me, Commander,” you challenge.

That’s all the encouragement he needs. In a blur, he lifts you onto the bar, hands sliding possessively over your hips as he steps between your legs. The kiss that follows is deeper, more desperate, fueled by weeks—maybe months—of tension. His hands grip your waist with enough strength to leave marks, as if he’s afraid you might slip away if he lets go.

Wolffe’s lips leave a trail down your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he moans, “You’re mine tonight. No one else. Just me.”

Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, drawing him closer and with a swift, practiced motion, he begins unbuckling his armour, peeling it off piece by piece while his gaze stays fixed on yours, dark with intent. There’s no room for hesitation, only pure, unfiltered desire.

You barely have time to catch your breath before his hands are on you again, yanking your workshirt over your head, fingers deftly working at your waistband before he slides your pants down and panties. The tension is almost unbearable as his calloused hands slide up your thighs, parting them with authority. His lips land on yours again, hungrier than before, biting gently on your lip as he frees himself from the confines of his uniform. When he finally pulls away, both of you are breathless, the air thick with want.

“Been thinking about this for a long time,” he mutters, voice low as his fingers slowly dip between your folds after getting your consent, finding you already slick with need. “You’re dripping for me already. You really want this, don’t you?”

You can’t help but moan softly as his fingers tease you, brushing over your clit before plunging inside. “I’ve wanted this as much as you have,” you manage to gasp, leaning back on your hands for support as his fingers begin to pump into you with a steady, ruthless rhythm.

“Good,” he groans, leaning in close, his breath hot against your ear. “Because you’re about to get exactly what you’ve been craving.” His thumb presses against your clit in tight circles as his fingers curl just right, hitting that spot that makes you shudder and arch against him.

You bite your lip, stifling the cry that threatens to spill out as your hips rock into his touch. The intensity of his gaze, the way he watches your every reaction—it’s overwhelming. “How’s that feel?” he taunts, voice thick with a mix of pride and lust. “Am I as good as you imagined?”

A wicked grin spreads across your face as you look down at him, voice dripping with teasing satisfaction. “Stars, you’re so much better than the last person I was with.”

That earns a deep, possessive moan from him, and his pace quickens, fingers plunging deeper, harder. “You think I’m going to let you go to anyone else after this? Not a chance,” he hisses, clearly spurred on by your words. “I’m going to make sure I’m the only one you think about from now on.” His gaze is locked on your cunt as his fingers curl inside you

Your response is lost in a choked gasp as he withdraws his fingers suddenly, leaving you momentarily empty. You whine at him for stopping but your words are caught in your mouth as you watch him pull his cock free, only for him to then line himself up against you. At first he teases your sentence pearl with his aching tip, feeling you shudder against him. Then, with one fluid thrust, he buries himself inside you, filling you completely.

The stretch is intense, and you can’t help the cry that escapes your lips. He feels perfect—thick and unyielding, just what you’ve been aching for. He groans, hips stuttering as he buries his face into your neck. Then he pulls back and cups your jaw with his hand, making sure every word he’s about to say sinks in; “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll forget that other guy’s name.”

The need between you both is primal, each thrust deep and purposeful as he claims you in the way he’s been fantasising about for far too long. His hands grip your hips with bruising force as he drives into you, the wet sound of your bodies moving together mingling with the breathless moans that spill from your lips.

“Tell me how good it is,” he commands, voice rough as his pace picks up, your legs tightening around him. “Tell me how much you like the way I fuck you.”

You don’t hold back, your voice a breathy moan. “It’s so good, Wolffe. So much better than anyone else. You’re the only one who can give it to me like this.”

That spurs him on, his movements becoming almost punishing as he growls your name, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “You’re mine tonight,” he breathes against your neck, the words possessive yet laced with something deeper. “No one else is ever going to touch you like this again.”

Your body tightens around him, every ridge of his cock brushing against your walls. Pleasure builds within you until it’s impossible to hold back any longer. “Fuck,” he groans, head tipping back briefly before his eyes lock onto yours again. “You feel incredible.”

When your release finally crashes over you, it’s intense, your vision going white as your muscles clench around him, drawing a guttural moan from his throat. He doesn’t let up, riding you through your orgasm, praising you, until he’s right there with you, thrusts growing erratic until he spills into you with a deep groan, his forehead resting against yours as he tries to catch his breath.

For a moment, the only sounds are the heavy breathing and the faint hum of the bar’s lights. Wolffe’s hands remain firm on your hips, almost as if he’s still afraid to let go. When he finally pulls back, there’s a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes.

Before you can ask, Wolffe’s hands gently cup your face, his thumbs brushing tenderly along your cheeks. There’s a softness in his gaze now, something you’ve never seen before. His fierce determination melts away, replaced by something far more vulnerable.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, voice thick with emotion. His thumbs continue to trace delicate patterns on your skin as if memorising every contour of your face. “I’ve watched you for so long; how you smile, how you laugh. How you take care of people, even when you think no one notices. You’re not just beautiful—you’re kind, too. And it drives me crazy because you deserve more than just a quick fling. You deserve someone who sees you for all that you are.”

His words hit you harder than any of the passion you’ve shared so far. Your heart stutters at the sincerity in his voice, the way his eyes soften as he holds your gaze. For a moment, the world outside fades, leaving only the two of you in this small, quiet moment. You’ve seen Wolffe as a soldier, a leader, but now, you see him as a man—a man who’s been holding back something real, something deep.

“Wolffe,” you breathe out, touched by his unexpected confession. “I—”

He doesn’t let you finish, leaning in to kiss you with a gentleness that contrasts the rough desire you shared moments before. The kiss is slow, unhurried, a silent acknowledgment of what’s blooming between you. His lips move against yours with reverence, taking his time as if savoring each moment.

When he finally pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, breath mingling with yours in the stillness. “You’re not just someone I want in passing,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “I want you for more than just tonight.”

Your chest tightens with warmth, a rare vulnerability breaking through your usual confidence. You reach up, running your fingers through his hair, grounding him in this moment. “I’ve wanted you too, more than you know. Not just for what we have now, but for what we could be.”

He studies your face for a moment, as if committing your every feature to memory, then smiles—a small, genuine curve of his lips. “I’m done hiding how I feel,” he says quietly. “You’re mine, but I’ll also be yours, in every way that matters.”

With that, he kisses you again, this time with a perfect balance of passion and tenderness, his need still evident but tempered by something deeper, more meaningful.

It’s not long until a second round of passion ensues, this time him stripping himself completely bare as he lifts you and moves you towards one of the booths for a more comfier setting. He lays you down, crawling over the top of you as his erection firms and pushes into you once again.

“Tell me how it feels,” he moans softly in your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

You can’t help but smile, the words slipping out between moans. “Beautiful… perfect. Nobody has ever made me feel this way.” You whimper, the sound of his cock sliding in and out of your already dampened and filled pussy stirring your crazy.

That longing glint returns to his eyes, but this time, it’s mixed with the affection he just bared to you. “Good,” he murmurs, his pace picking up slightly, his hands never leaving your skin. “Because I’m going to make damn sure you never want anyone else.”

The rhythm between you builds again, the intensity returning as his movements grow more insistent, more determined to claim you in every way possible. But there’s a new layer to it now.

His touch was something deeper, more profound, and it’s shown in the way his lips brush against your skin, the way his hands hold you like you’re something precious. Like a porcelain doll.

As you both approach that edge again, the tension coils tight, your bodies perfectly in sync. The pleasure mounts higher and higher until it crests, a shared release that leaves you both trembling and breathless. You collapse into him, clinging to his shoulders as he holds you steady, his own breath coming out in ragged pants. “Mesh’la,” he breathes, kissing your forehead gently.

For a while, neither of you move, caught in the afterglow. But then, Wolffe gently lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I want you,” he says again, “No games, no hiding. I want us—for real, whatever it takes.”

You smile, reaching up to cup his face, thumb brushing over the scar near his eye. “Then we’ll make it real. But… What about your status? You’ll be reprimanded.”

“Status be damned,” he growls at the thought of the GAR taking you away from him.

You’ve crossed a line, and there’s no going back. But for once, neither of you care.

🌊 Masterlist is Pinned 🌊

Tags: @littlefeatherr r @kaitou2417 7 @eyecandyeoz z @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @pb-jellybeans s @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tech-aficionado @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @lulalovez

[kendraontmblr]

TRAINING WITH BENEFITS - B. SHELTON

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Pairing: Ben Shelton x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: [18+] explicit content, sexual themes, mature situations, and heavy intimacy.

A/N: so it’s finally here ! you all probably hate me and i’m so sorry for not uploading yesterday as i said i would. i hope you lovelies can forgive me 🤭 anyways, enjoy ! and let me know what you all think cause i tried a different approach ! love y’all x

────────

Ben’s hand brushed mine again during practice, sending a jolt through me. It wasn’t the first time today—or this week. He knew exactly what he was doing. Every glance, every smile seemed loaded with hidden meaning, a game neither of us had agreed to play, but couldn’t resist. The tension simmered between us, thick and undeniable, building with each move and exchanged look.

His touch brushed my arm again as we adjusted our positions, subtle but enough to make my skin tingle. He didn’t need to say a word; each touch spoke louder than anything. The way he leaned in just a bit too close as we discussed our next move, or the way his breath brushed my ear—soft but deliberate. It felt like we were playing a different game altogether, with one rule: get as close as we could without breaking.

When practice wrapped up, Ben tossed his towel over his shoulder and shot me a sly grin. “Meet me in the locker room?” His gaze lingered on me just a moment longer, and I felt it—he knew I couldn’t say no. Lately, it had become a regular thing, the two of us sneaking away for a quick, heated session in between training. We’d even started calling it “training with benefits,” a playful code for the tension we couldn’t resist. I smirked back, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach.

You and Ben head to the locker room, knowing exactly what’s about to unfold. The space is quieter now, more intimate, with the usual teasing replaced by something deeper, more heated. His fingers brush your back, sending a spark through you. It’s brief, but the touch lingers, the tension between you both palpable. The last time you were here, he had gone down on you, and now, with the memory of that still fresh, the air feels even thicker, charged with anticipation for what’s next.

Without a word, you both step closer, his hand finding the small of your back, pulling you toward him. His lips crash onto yours—urgent, needy—as your hands move over each other, exploring. He pulls you closer, his touch possessive, and you respond with equal fervor. In the heat of the moment, the world outside the locker room disappears, leaving only the sounds of your breath and the soft thud of hearts racing.

His hands roam your body, gripping you tight, and soon you’re on your knees before him. You look up, meeting his gaze as you move with purpose, and his breath hitches. His hands tug at your hair as you go lower, and his body tenses in response. The tension you’ve both built over the weeks of stolen moments finally snaps, and you both give in, letting everything else fall away.

After everything had settled, you found yourself standing in the quiet of the hotel room, your body still humming with the intensity of what had just happened. You tried to shake it off, but the image of Ben’s hands on you, the way his breath hitched, kept replaying in your mind. Even with the door closed, the lingering heat of his touch seemed to follow you, and it felt like the air itself was charged, waiting for the next move. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was truly over or just the beginning.

Then, your phone buzzed on the bedside table. Ben’s name flashed across the screen.

"Can't stop thinking about you. Wanna come over?"

Before you could even reply, another ding interrupted, another message from him.

"I'm not done with you yet. I wanna return the favor."

Your heart skipped a beat. The butterflies that had been swirling in your stomach all day suddenly intensified. You stared at the message, the words echoing in your head. What now?

The air around you felt charged with possibility. Your mind replayed every detail—the way his hands had gripped you, the feel of him under your touch. The playful banter and subtle teasing on the court seemed like distant memories now, replaced by the electric tension that hung between you both. You glanced down at your phone, fingers hovering over the screen, the decision clear as your pulse raced.

Without wasting another second, you tapped your response, your heart racing as you hit send.

The door clicked shut behind you as Ben pulled you inside, his grin playful but his gaze intense, dark with desire. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, sending a thrill through you. He pulled you closer, the air between you charged with anticipation. As you closed the distance, his lips were on yours again, urgent and heated. His hands roamed, sliding down to your waist, pulling you in even closer as the kiss deepened, the tension between you growing with every second.

The heat between you both grew as you made your way to the bedroom, his hands cradling your face, pulling you impossibly closer, while your hands traced the hard lines of his body—up his biceps, down to his abs. His body felt like fire under your touch. You undressed him slowly, every movement deliberate, as his eyes watched you with hunger. When he stood before you, only in his boxers, you paused, taking him in for a moment, the heat of the moment leaving no room for hesitation.

Ben sinks onto the edge of the bed, his legs spread wide, radiating that casual confidence that drives you wild. As you look down at him, a flicker of something catches your attention—he’s hard, and a single heartbeat pulses in your pussy, the air thickening with desire between you. His gaze is intense as he watches you, his hands flat on the bed beside him, palm-down, giving him an even more dominant presence. You can’t help but close the gap between you. He leans toward you, pulling you in with ease, his arms wrapping around you. You kiss him—slow at first, but the urgency builds. His hands squeeze your ass possessively, earning a soft gasp from you as your fingers tangle in his curls, tugging him closer.

You pull away, leaving just enough space between you, your breath ragged as you take a step back. Ben’s gaze follows you, darkening with desire as you start to undress. There’s a teasing smile on your lips, a playful challenge in your eyes as you slowly peel the fabric off, leaving only your underwear. His eyes flicker over you, drinking you in, and then he breathes out, "Damn, you're beautiful." A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, warmth spreading through you as his words hit their mark. But he says nothing more—he doesn’t have to. The unspoken tension speaks louder than anything.

Stepping closer to him, you place a hand on his chest, leaning in just enough to push him back lightly. You climb over him, straddling his lap with ease. The playfulness in your smile never leaves as you continue to push him down, watching as his back hits the mattress with a thud. “Are you going to return the favor, Ben?” you ask, your voice low, teasing, challenging.

Ben’s eyes meet yours, that familiar grin tugging at his lips, but this time there’s no denying what’s about to happen next. He leans in slightly, his voice low and teasing, "With pleasure."

You position yourself above his face, your heart racing as Ben hooks his finger into your underwear, sliding it aside with deliberate ease. He takes in your scent of desire, his gaze darkening with hunger. Ben’s fingers slide through your folds with deliberate care, his touch igniting a fire in your core. “So wet for me,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, his eyes locked on yours, dark with desire. The first touch of his mouth on you has your head tilting back in pure pleasure, a soft gasp escaping your lips. His hands roam your body, caressing your thighs, gripping your hips, and sliding up your back, pulling you closer. Your fingers rake through his curls, as you move against his mouth. he moans against you, the vibration jolting through you and making you arch, your hips moving instinctively against his mouth.

As Ben's mouth works against you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, you lean back slightly. Your hands move downward, finding the outline of his arousal through his boxers. A teasing smile plays on your lips as you fondle him, applying just enough pressure to make him groan against you. The sound vibrates through your core, making your back arch, the way his hips shift instinctively beneath your touch only fuels your desire. The air between you is thick with tension, each moment more electric than the last.

A breathless whisper escapes your lips, the words tumbling out without thought as waves of pleasure wash over you. “So good, Ben. So good,” you manage, your voice trembling with raw emotion, every syllable laced with the intensity of his touch.

Ben’s mouth continues its relentless work on you, every flick and pull of his lips sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Unable to stay still, your hand slips into his boxers, finding him hard and ready. You fondle him firmly, savoring the sharp intake of breath against you, the vibration of his groan reverberating through your core. His reactions spur you on, each sound a melody that urges your movements.

Taking your time, you free him from the confines of his boxers, wrapping your hand around him. Your strokes are slow at first, deliberate, coaxing more delicious sounds from his lips. His hips subtly shift under your touch, chasing the rhythm you’ve set. After a moment, you lift yourself, the anticipation palpable as you move down, aligning with him. With a shared gasp, you sink onto him, the moment electric as pleasure engulfs you both.

Ben’s head tilts back against the bed, his lips parting into a grin before a deep groan escapes him. “Fuck me. You’re so tight, baby” he breathes, his voice rough and filled with need. His hands instinctively find your waist, gripping firmly, his fingers pressing into your skin as if anchoring himself to the moment. His gaze briefly meets yours, dark and full of desire, before his head falls back again, his grin still lingering, lost in the overwhelming sensation of you. The way his body responds only fuels your movements further.

You move your hips against him, the pressure making him exhale a sharp breath as his gaze burns into you, and he murmurs, "That's it. Good girl," his voice a mix of praise and heat. His fingers slide up to wrap gently around your neck, pulling you closer until your lips collide in a fierce, consuming kiss. When you finally break apart, your breath mingling with his, your fingers finds his chain, and you tug on it lightly, earning a low groan from him. All the while, you continue moving against him, the tension between you mounting.

A tight pit forms in your lower stomach, the familiar heat building as you move against him. You can feel the pressure rising, your body aching for release, and you know Ben is close too. His arms tighten on your waist, his hips bucking uncontrollably beneath you, chasing his own peak. The intensity of it all pushes you to the edge, and you can't hold back any longer. You can feel his desperation, his need, and it only brings you closer to the edge, your heart racing in time with the rhythm between you.

Breathless, you gasp, “I’m so close, Ben.” Your body trembles, the pressure building as you move against him. Ben’s grip tightens, his voice rough when he responds, “Me too, baby” Just before you both reach the edge, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him, his chest against yours as his breath comes in ragged gasps. As you both finish together, you hear his groans, low and needy, sending a shockwave of pleasure through you. His sounds, those whines of pure ecstasy, make your stomach erupt with butterflies, heightening everything.

You lay in Ben’s arms, both of you intertwined as you struggled to catch your breath. His hold on you was firm yet tender, his thumbs tracing soothing circles on your back. You could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours, the rhythm calming you both as your body still buzzed with the aftermath of everything that had just transpired.

His fingers gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear before he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. Then, with a fistful of your hair, he tugged your head back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark with desire. His playful grin appeared as he took you in, his intense gaze never leaving you.

“Let’s go again, baby."

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with love always,

kendra

[ikkyfics]

Stag Party

James Potter x reader

Summary: Sirius ignored him completely. “First, remember one thing: atmosphere is everything. If you stay somewhere with a creaky bed, you’ve failed as a husband.” James laughed but covered his face with his hand. “Merlin, I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” “Oh, wait, there’s more.”

Warnings: none

Part 7 of Marry Me

Masterlist

It was a golden afternoon, with the sun gleaming on the autumn leaves in the garden. The air was filled with anticipation, especially for James, who was sitting on the couch beside you, his hands intertwined with yours, wearing that signature smile that always made your heart race.

You both were savoring the last quiet moments before the evening’s commotion. James was about to leave for the long-awaited bachelor party organized by the Marauders, and though he tried to hide it, it was clear he was excited.

The door slammed open, and Sirius entered first, a whirlwind of energy. His messy black hair was more unruly than ever, and he wore a leather jacket that was definitely not suitable for the weather. "Prongs! Time to go, my dear future married man!"

Right behind him came Remus, more composed, but with a mischievous glint in his brown eyes. He was wearing a blue sweater that looked like it had been knitted by some devoted grandmother, a stark contrast to Sirius's chaotic energy. "Hope you're ready. Sirius spent the whole week planning this," he said, giving a slightly suspicious glance to his friend.

Peter appeared last, carrying a wrapped box that seemed heavier than he was. He was blushing and grinning from ear to ear. "I told you I wasn’t carrying this alone!" he protested, as Sirius easily took the box from him.

"Prongs, let’s go! We’ve got the whole night planned, and you can’t be late," Sirius said, slapping James on the back.

James looked at you, his blue eyes shining behind his glasses. He seemed torn between wanting to spend more time with you and the excitement of going out with the guys. "I guess this is a goodbye for a few hours," he said, leaning in close.

You smiled, knowing exactly what to do. Gently pulling him by the tie he was wearing – because of course James wore a tie even on a casual day – you kissed him. It was a slow, sweet, deliberate kiss that made him sigh against your lips.

"Oi, oi! Let’s go, Prongs, this isn’t the honeymoon!" Sirius exclaimed, pretending to cover his eyes.

"For Merlin’s sake, we’re still here," Remus muttered, but his smile gave away how much he found the scene amusing.

James finally pulled away, but not before leaving a last kiss on the tip of your nose, causing more grimaces from Sirius. "I’ll be back soon," he said softly.

Before they left, you placed a hand on Sirius’s chest, stopping him. "I’m only going to say this once: strippers are off the table. Understood?"

Remus raised an eyebrow and responded with his usual calm. "I promise there won’t be any strippers."

"But I can’t guarantee anything about—" he started, only to be cut off by Sirius.

"Hey, hey! That was supposed to be a surprise!" Sirius said, feigning indignation. "But don’t worry. We’ll bring Prongs back safe and sound for you... eventually."

When James was practically dragged out of the house by the Marauders, he looked back one last time, flashing a smile that made your heart melt. You shook your head, knowing he was in good hands – albeit extremely chaotic ones.

Outside, Sirius was already waiting impatiently to Disapparate. "Prongs, today’s the day you learn what real fun is. No responsibilities, no wedding lists, just us and the best night you’ll have before you say 'I do.'"

James raised an eyebrow, adjusting his glasses. "As long as it doesn’t involve anyone losing their pants or ending up in the Ministry’s holding cell..."

"Relax, love," Sirius replied with a grin, throwing his arm around Remus’s shoulders, who looked at him with skepticism. "We’re not losing our pants. Just... maybe... misplacing them temporarily."

Remus sighed, but there was a lightness in his eyes. "Ignore him, James. The worst that’ll happen is Sirius breaking a bar stool trying to show off some inappropriate dance moves."

"Hey! That was ONE time!" Sirius protested, while Remus just shot him an incredulous look.

"Oh, let’s go before you start fighting," Peter said, stretching out his arms so everyone could Disapparate together.

They vanished with a pop and reappeared in a place that was a mix of controlled chaos and extravagant magic. A wizarding bar filled with floating enchantments greeted the group, with colorful lights flashing around and a makeshift stage where a band was playing.

"Welcome to the Howling Cauldron," Sirius announced dramatically. "The best place to celebrate like there’s no tomorrow."

James looked around, surprised by the size of the place. The enchanted walls displayed constantly changing landscapes – from lush forests to snow-capped mountains – and the tables were filled with spells that made drinks levitate directly into the customers' hands.

“I’m afraid to ask how you found that out,” James said, throwing a glance at Sirius, who simply smiled as if he were the greatest genius in the world.

Remus rolled his eyes, but there was an obvious affection in the gesture. “He spends more time researching bars than he should, but... he has good taste.”

Soon, the group was seated at a polished wooden table, with mugs of butterbeer and goblets of mead being magically distributed. Sirius raised the first goblet, signaling for everyone to do the same.

“A toast to Prongs!” he began, with a wide, sincere smile. “To the best friend a guy could have – and to his bad luck for getting married before me!”

Remus gave his shoulder a light punch. “You’ve literally been dating me for years, and we live in the same house.”

“Details, details,” Sirius shot back, before continuing the toast. “Prongs, you deserve all the happiness in the world. And honestly, we deserve credit for putting up with you while you fell madly in love and got unbearably mushy.”

James blushed slightly but smiled. “You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”

“Oh, it’s not bad,” Peter chimed in, with a shy smile. “It’s just... constant.”

Everyone laughed and toasted, the sound of the goblets echoing through the bar.

After a few rounds of drinks and embarrassing stories – like the time James fell off his broom trying to impress you – Sirius appeared with a box wrapped in a silver ribbon.

When Sirius handed the box to James, his eyes sparkled with the same mischievous energy that had turned simple moments into legendary tales. “Just open it,” he insisted, his voice full of expectation.

James, who had already been blushing lightly from all the laughter – and maybe a bit from the rounds of mead – raised an eyebrow and carefully untied the silver ribbon, clearly skeptical. As he opened the lid, he froze like a deer caught in the headlights.

Inside the box was a pair of underwear that blinked in bright letters: Love, You’re Lucky to Have Me.

The bar exploded with laughter. Sirius literally barked a loud laugh, slamming his hand on the table hard enough to almost spill his drink. Remus joined in with a short laugh before covering his face with his hand, shaking his head in amused disapproval. Peter, on the other hand, let out a high-pitched laugh and immediately took a long gulp of his butterbeer, trying to contain the embarrassment of being seen in public with this chaotic group.

James picked up the item with two fingers, holding it up in the air like a broken broomstick. “Sirius, this is absolutely ridiculous,” he said, but the smile that threatened to form on his lips betrayed any seriousness he tried to fake.

“Ridiculous?” Sirius repeated, mock-offended. “This is a masterpiece! You’ll thank me when you wear it on your honeymoon.” He winked, and the group laughed even harder.

Remus, who had until then tried to maintain some dignity, finally succumbed to the chaos. “This is so you, Sirius. You’ve managed to combine bad taste and creativity in one gift.”

Sirius dramatically pointed at him. “Ah, but that’s why you love me, Moony.”

“For that and your amazing skills at being the most inconvenient person in the world,” Remus retorted, but there was a smile at the corners of his mouth.

“Speaking of inconvenient,” Peter began, with an expression that could only be described as a small, adorable betrayal, “has anyone told the story about the time James tried to impress her with that spell to make fireworks?”

James turned around so fast he almost knocked over his goblet. “Peter, no!”

But it was too late. Sirius was already leaning forward, his eyes shining with anticipation. “Wait, I don’t know this one!”

Remus bit his lip, trying to hold back a smile. “Oh, it was memorable. James decided to surprise her in her garden. He wanted to conjure fireworks with their initials...”

Peter completed the story, enthusiastically betraying James: “But he messed up the spell, and the sparks ended up forming completely wrong initials, and she got confused because she thought he was talking about a completely different couple.”

Sirius laughed so hard that tears threatened to escape. “You... you basically confessed your feelings for another person! This is pure gold, Prongs.”

James shook his head but couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped. “Oh, of course, because none of you ever did anything stupid to impress someone, right?”

Sirius blinked innocently. “Me? Never.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh, sure. Want me to mention the time you tried to impress me by dancing on top of a table in the common room?”

“Oh, that was a display of talent, Moony,” Sirius replied, without an ounce of shame.

“It was more of a display of how clumsy you are,” Remus shot back, and the group erupted into another round of laughter.

When the laughter started to die down, Sirius turned his attention to James with a smile that promised nothing good. “Now, let’s talk seriously, Prongs. Are you ready for your honeymoon?”

James squinted. “If by ‘ready’ you mean I’ve planned everything to make it special, then yes. If you mean am I ready to hear you give absolutely inappropriate advice, then no.”

Sirius completely ignored the second part. “First, remember one thing: atmosphere is everything. If you stay somewhere with a creaky bed, you’ve failed as a husband.”

James laughed but covered his face with his hand. “Merlin, I can’t believe I’m hearing this.”

“Oh, wait, there’s more,” Sirius continued, raising a finger. “Never underestimate the power of a good ambient lighting spell. Magic lights are good, but enchanted candles with scent? Perfect.”

“That’s very specific,” Remus commented, looking at him with a slightly flushed face.

Sirius smirked. “I only say what I know.”

Before James could protest, Peter intervened with his hesitant voice, but full of enthusiasm. “Oh, and have you chosen who will be the godfather of the first baby? Because I have a list of reasons why it should be me.”

That broke any remaining attempt at seriousness. James laughed loudly, and even Sirius looked surprised by Peter’s boldness.

Remus shook his head, smiling. “You’re skipping a few steps, don’t you think?”

Sirius patted Peter on the shoulder. “Ah, Wormtail, you always know how to steal the show. But we all know the godfather will be me.”

When the night came to an end, James looked around at his friends with a smile that didn’t need words to express what he felt. They were chaotic, unpredictable, and absolutely insufferable... but they were his family.

And as Sirius led the group toward the exit with one last tease, James made a mental note: maybe he really should consider those scented enchanted candles. After all, every piece of advice had its use.

taglist: @hisparentsgallerryy

[valeriianz]

Dream is trying to be good. He is out of his house, for starters, attempting to mingle among the crowds. He figures this effort alone is worth at least 10 points on the socialization scale.

He may be wearing black on black as usual, but at least this is his nice pea coat, and his jeans don’t have any rips in them. His hair is even washed (though he hadn’t bothered with a combing, minus 3 points).

It’s New Year’s Eve, he’s standing at one of the few scattered tables around the large space. The bar’s ceiling and walls are lit up in a colorful agglomeration of Christmas lights and twinkling decor, so much that the people around him appear to have pink or blue or orange skin, otherwise the place is dark.

Dream drums his fingers on the tall table’s surface, scanning the crowd and trying not to look too uncomfortable at the DJ’s choice in thumping bass and current rap trends blanketing the ocean of conversation happening all around him.

“Hey, how are you?”

Dream watches as a man walks around him to stand across the table, setting a drink down and smiling in a lazy, drunk way.

Dream just stares.

“Sorry, I saw you standing alone and thought you might want some company.”

The man has to lean forward and yell to be heard over the music and people. Dream is responsive enough to at least lean in as well to catch the stranger’s words.

“I’m fine, thank you.” Dream barely has to raise his voice, thanks to his natural baritone. He’s thankful for that; he hates shouting and to do so just to commit to a conversation would be tribulation.

The man doesn’t seem to catch Dream’s response though, or doesn’t care to. He takes a sip of his drink and tries again, his fingers curling around the pint.

“Can I get you a drink?”

Dream seizes the opportunity to politely turn this man away from him.

“No, thank you. My boyfriend is getting my drink.”

The man’s brows pinch together.

“Where is your boyfriend?”

He says it like it’s a joke. Like he’s caught Dream red-handed. Dream sighs and turns to look at the crowded bar.

“He’s right…” Dream’s eyes desperately scan the scene of chaos at the bar, hoping to find Hob’s familiar head of dark brown hair, his mischievous caramel brown eyes, or even the bomber jacket he wore tonight. But from here, it’s difficult to spot anyone’s face in the crowd. The blinking lights give off strange shadows and everyone is moving, either dancing or stumbling to push through the dense sea of bodies.

He hears a soft laugh from the man across from him and looks over to find him shaking his head, but he’s smiling.

“Look, I don’t mean to come off strong, but someone as gorgeous as you shouldn’t be alone on New Year's Eve.”

Any patience left for this man is immediately snuffed out, like water tossed onto a fire.

“I told you, I’m–”

“Waiting for your boyfriend, uh huh.” He grins with his teeth and Dream barely restrains from throwing his head back in annoyance. 

If there weren’t a threat of getting lost in the crowd, Dream would abandon his station here and go looking for Hob. But he knows it’s better to stay here and wait as he had been, despite the nuisance still attempting to converse with Dream.

He steps around the table to stand next to Dream, who takes a deliberate step sideways away from him.

“What’s your name?”

Dream ignores him, head now permanently angled towards the bar.

“You know,” he starts up again and Dream eyes flutter shut, praying for patience. “The longer you ignore me, the more persistent I’ll become.”

Dream opens his eyes and levels the man, who is definitely drunk, with an unamused look.

“Even if I weren’t already spoken for, this is a terrible way to receive my affections.”

“He speaks!” The man exclaims and laughs. Dream pinches the bridge of his nose and has officially made the decision to lose his mind at the stranger, when he blessedly feels two familiar strong arms wrap around his waist.

“Sorry that took so long,” Hob speaks directly into Dream’s ear, no need to shout with lips tickling his skin. “I got us two drinks each so we don’t have to deal with that again.”

Dream smiles, unaware of how tense he was as his body relaxes against Hob’s– before it sharpens to a smirk at the utterly baffled expression on the strange man’s face.

Hob’s lips trail up the shell of Dream’s ear, his nose nudging in his hairline as he speaks again, his hot breath warming Dream up from the inside and sparking a sudden and intense feeling of surrender in Hob’s possessive hold. 

“Who’s your friend?” And fuck, Dream can hear the control in Hob’s voice. The question is innocent enough, but the way his tone pitches into a growl, low and dangerous, makes Dream’s toes curl. 

“I don’t know,” Dream answers simply, one brow arching at the other man, giving him the decency to turn and walk away on his own before Hob can make a show of animalistic ownership that Dream can practically feel radiating off Hob’s self-control.

Thankfully the stranger leaves, which is just as well, though Dream would have rather liked being ravished with an audience.

He turns to face Hob properly, duly noticing the drinks on the table and slips his arms around Hob’s middle, bringing them flush together in what can only be described as a bear hug.

Dream tucks his face under Hob’s jaw– bending his knees a little– and inhaling deeply, the scent of Hob’s cologne grounding him, and exhaling loudly through his mouth and smiling again at Hob’s deep chuckle that rumbles through his own body.

“You good?” Hob asks into Dream’s hair, placing a kiss there.

“Mm…” Dream hums. “I’m great.”

[luvsellie]

PEOPLE WATCHING [j. maybank]

pairing jj maybank x fem!reader

summary jj ignoring one of his friends is strange. and off-putting. so when he does it to you, argument ensues and indifferent confessions toward one another begin to spill.

warnings rafe being an ass, mentions of abuse, semi based on s1 ep5 but also not?? don’t expect anything regarding the obx plot, reader is in a similar situation to sarah and kie’s social standing (kook-turned-pogue) !

wc 3.1k

note this song just SCREAMS jj i couldn’t not write something inspired by it! also this man is so ‘angsty-love-confession-in-the-rain’ coded why didn’t the obx writers take that chance when they had it >:(

you never thought you would see the day that jj deliberately ignored you. sure, he hated talking about his feelings, and he was too stubborn for his own good, but he had never once gone out of his way to avoid your presence. until now.

“he won’t even look at me,” you hissed at kie, eyes glued to the blond who maneuvered around groups of people, the tray in his hands lacking drinks. he had a smile on his face regardless, making small quips at people as he passed them.

kie huffed, moving her body to block off your view of jj. her lilac dress shimmered in the orange light as she said, “just give him some time. he’ll come around. he always does.”

you chewed on the inside of your cheek, spinning the ring on your index finger as you continued to try and get a clear view of him. “yeah. i guess you’re right.” 

the girl in front of you grinned in a way that seemed to say i always am.

still mildly offset about jj’s attitude toward whatever it is that you had done to upset him, you took a step back from kie, situating yourself so you could comfortably watch him once again. as you did, you noticed his back was now to you, topper, kelce, and rafe appearing to slowly herd him toward the building. the trio of men wore smug smiles, and before you knew it jj had lost his tray and swung open one of the glass doors, sprinting in the direction of the restrooms.

your eyebrows knitted together in sudden urgency, hand already swatting at kiara’s bare shoulder. “kie. kie they’re chasing him-”

“who’s- oh. oh,” kie said aridly.

“we have to go,” you told her, already gathering the skirt of your sage-green dress in a hand.

kie grabbed your arm quickly. “and do what? stab them with the back of our heels?”

“if that’s what it takes,” you told her stubbornly, ripping your bicep from her grip. “stay here if you want, i don’t care, but i’m going to go help the best i can.”

you didn’t wait for her response as you started in the direction of the door, gait switching between an uneven combination of a speedwalk and a run. whether or not jj was mad at you, nothing was going to stop you from assisting him in any way possible, especially if he was severely outnumbered. rafe was practically psychotic, his solution to everything was always violence, and topper and kelce only egged him on.

the cool a/c brought goosebumps to your skin, a chill shivering its way down your spine as you swept past people and furniture. fortunately, you spotted the dark-colored bathroom door, the sound of disgruntled male voices seeping through the wood. when you recognized jj’s, you didn’t hesitate to push past the barrier, deciding the consequences could be left for future you to deal with.

middle-age men immediately protested to your appearance, but you ignored them as you hurried in the direction of the overlapped voices, and, sure enough, you found yourself walking into the midst of the kooks jumping jj.

none of the boys noticed your presence, too wrapped up in whatever they were doing to grow aware of their surroundings. 

your attention zoned in on your beat-up-looking friend, the sight of kelce retaining him in a jarring choke hold resulting in your sudden outburst of, “what the fuck is going on?”

“oh, look who’s decided to join us,” rafe leered, his grin growing twice as big. jj continued to struggle against kelce’s grasp, saying your name dryly as his eyes jumped from you to the oldest cameron sibling.

“the hell is wrong with all of you?” your glare turned to kelce, his eyes narrowed in vain. “let him go or i swear to god…”

rafe’s face only continued to dwell with enlightenment at your interruption. he stood up straight and took a long stride in your direction, forcing you to spin toward him. he put less than a foot between his body and yours. “or you’ll do what-”

the air stilled as you slapped the man across the cheek, your palm stinging from the impact. even though he towered over your smaller person, you still sneered up at him, gaze narrowed as if he were no more than the scum on the bottom of your shoe. “you’re not the only one in this town who has a powerful father, rafe cameron. yours just happens to have the worst reputation.”

rafe’s fingers ghosted the flushed skin where you had struck him, eyebrows beginning to knit together as his familiar rage started to surface. he barely had time to speak, “you fucking bitch-” before someone cut in.

the flickering lights caught everyone’s regard, and you watched stiffly as kelce instantly released jj and spun on his heels. “gentlemen. ma’am,” a security guard addressed, “is there a problem here?”

jj was quick to jump in, rushing to say, “pardon me, officer, i just…” his blue eyes caught yours, but they jumped back the man in the black tux before you could give him a warning glance. “we just- well, actually, yes, there is an issue. we have a criminal trespass in progress here.”

you knew he was just doing the best he could to get you both out of the situation, yet you didn’t mask your rather disgusted expression as he continued.

“beep! call it in, right?” the blond urged. “blatant disrespect for private property.”

the boys around you nodded, avoiding eye contact with the guard. multiple yeahs circled the room.

“we’re in violation of all kinds of shit, sir,” jj said, barely taking the motion to glance at you over his shoulder. he turned to kelce, plastering on a fake smile. he began to straighten the cyan-colored bow tie. “but these young gentlemen…” his hand was quickly swatted away. “...uh, caught us, sir, and they were about to take us away. which is what you should do; escort us out of here.”

you watched as jj offered up his wrists before looking back at you. his brows jumped to his hairline in a silent plea to just go along with the nonsense spewing out of his mouth. still mildly irritated at him and everything about whatever the fuck is going to happen as a repercussion, you exhaled sharply and took a few steps in his direction, sending a glare in rafe’s direction.

your arm brushed against jj’s as you mimicked his actions. “you caught us, officer.”

the man rolled his eyes, but reached behind you, hands roughly grabbing onto yours and jj’s biceps. “come on.”

but jj seemed to feel that he needed to add to the situation, his adhd never failing to shine in moments like these. he turned to kelce again as rafe moved closer, topper behind him. “fix that tie, son. oh, and you’re lookin’ quite spiffy too. you powerpuff girls have fun, alright?”

just as the guard was about to lead you both through the exit, rafe shouted your name. “you know you’re pretty hot for a ‘pogue!’”

jj spun before you could even react, already storming in the direction of the smirking boy. ‘mister security’ left you standing in the doorway as he trudged over to the beginnings of a fight and ripped your friend from the group. “let’s go,” he snuffed, shoving the blond harshly.

you avoided jj’s aggravated gaze as you locked eyes with rafe, still being pushed by the man. raising a hand, you flipped him off. “suck my dick, cameron.”

“knock it off,” the guard said, his fingers squeezing the flesh of your arm. his warning compelled you to turn away, huffing air through your nose in annoyance.

rafe scoffed a laugh from his spot, highly entertained by the sight before him. “hey, safe travels back to the cut, you two!”

“this shit ain’t over!” jj hollered, earning a harsh shove in the direction of the exit.

as the man directed you and jj out of the building, you made a point to not bother interacting with the boy, ignoring his existence entirely, just as he had done to you previously. talking to him at the moment would only result in yelling at each other, and the idea of that was rather repulsive.

finally pushing past one of the glass doors, you attempted to wrench your arm away. it only ended with the guard’s hands squeezing even tighter. “dude, i can walk by myself- let me go.”

jj tried the same thing as you passed a distressed-looking kiara. “yeah, we have legs. can’t you see that, daryl? and, hey, thanks for the ‘discretion.’ let us just walk out by ourselves, yeah?”

nearly stumbling on stairs because of your heels, you made a noise out of exasperation, eagerly pulling back. “give me- oh my god, just let us go!” as heads started to turn in your direction, you desperately hoped that one of your parents would show up, but as daryl continued to haul you and jj (who continuously made comments to the people he passed) away from everything, you made one last hopeless attempt to get him to let go.

“wait!” you said, this time actually tripping on your heels. faking a stumble, you very nearly successfully fell out of daryl’s grasp. “these shoes are killing my feet. let me at least take them off if you insist on dragging us through the mud.”

he rolled his eyes, but loosened his grip.

bending slightly, you raised your left foot off the ground, undoing the buckle of your heel. as you stepped out of the shoe, you went to do the other, stealing a glimpse at jj. this is too easy.

finally standing on the bare ground, you turned back to daryl, shoving your heels to his chest. “would you mind holding these for me? thanks.” using the best of your strength, you threw him off, jj happily doing the same, and began backing in the opposite direction just as your father appeared from behind mr. carrera. his face went from confusion to anger in the span of less than three seconds, and you knew you’d be in for the biggest lecture of your life when you confronted your parents later. but for now, all you wanted to do was get off the property.

and jj seemed to have a similar idea, as his fingers brushed against your left hand, gesturing with the jut of his chin when you made eye contact with him. “come on.”

unable to help the satisfied smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth, you turned away, quickly following jj into the darkness as kie called after you.

“okay, i think we’re far enough,” you huffed heavily, slowing to a walk beside jj.

he ran his fingers through his disheveled hair as he nodded. for once he had nothing to say, and it made you stop on the sidewalk.

“so that’s it?” you started, grabbing his elbow and forcing him to look at you. “you’re just going to go back to ignoring me? after everything that just happened back there? at least tell me what i did for you to treat me like this.”

his blue eyes averted your own as he chewed on his busted bottom lip.

“what did i do, jj?” you asked as your arm fell back to your side, annoyance slipping into despair. “just tell me.”

jj looked at you, and even in the strained moonlight could you just now see how badly his upper left cheek was bruising. he was fiddling with the hem of his white button-up shirt as he stood, stubbornly remaining quiet.

sighing, you took a step closer, the pavement cool under your bare feet. he flinched back when you went to raise a hand. you licked your lips. “did…did rafe and the others do this?”

stiffening, jj lifted his chin and looked down at you, his expression morphed into something between disgust and vacancy. “no,” was all he said.

“oh,” you breathed, your body running cold, even in the humid night air. of course. “maybe you should come back home with me. i can-”

“no,” jj repeated more firmly, shaking off your words. “no, i don’t need your pity right now. go back to midsummers. you and kie looked like you were having loads of fun.”

you scoffed in sudden disbelief, realizing what this was about—why he had been ignoring you for nearly a full day. “i’m not- i’m not offering to care for you out of pity,” you told him bitterly. “you’re my friend, jj, and i’ll always try and protect you when i can. i’m sorry that you’re too naive to realize and accept that.”

jj took a step back, his hands balling into fists as he shook his head. “i don’t need your protection. i don’t need your compassion, or whatever the hell you wanna call it,” he spat. “and i don’t need you.”

“you’re just saying that,” you protested quickly, swallowing down the crack in your voice and blinking back the sharp sting of tears.

shaking his head again, jj’s lips pressed into a thin line. “go back to that big, shiny house of yours.” he wasted no time in turning around, his back straight as he walked away, the clarity of his figure growing less and less as he retreated.

unable to process the moment, you ran a hand over your face, forcing yourself to keep your composure and not yell out to him. what the fuck just happened? you thought, panic beginning to set in as jj officially disappeared around the block.

what am i going to do?

the house was quiet when you entered, and after a quick call for your parents, you realized they were still partying away at the country club. it was somewhat of a relief.

feet sore and dirty, you began to rid yourself of your jewelry, unclasping the chains around your neck and picking off the rings on your fingers. you set them on your nightstand as you shut your bedroom door, immediately falling onto your bed.

lying back to stare at the beige ceiling, you inhaled deeply, running through the events that had taken place. and it had all ended in jj leaving you. for how long, you didn’t know—didn’t even want to think about it. so, with one last sigh, you stood from your mattress, stripped yourself down, and headed toward the bathroom, already thinking up a plan for tomorrow.

“look, i wasn’t trying to make a scene,” you explained over the phone, shrugging your shoulders even though your parents couldn’t see. “it just…happened, i guess. i’m sorry.” there was a tense pause, filled by the sound of your dad sighing on the other end of the line. “can i please go now? we can talk as soon as i get home later, i swear.”

you heard unintelligible whispers before your mom said, “you cannot keep blowing us off.”

“i know, i know.” you really did not want to have this conversation when you were nearly at jj’s house, the sky murky with dark clouds. “again, i’m sorry, but you know i don’t normally do stuff like this, so can you guys please ease off?” 

“fine. only for a few hours. i want you home soon, it’s supposed to storm today. we will talk later.” your dad said roughly, irritation laced in his voice.

shoulders visibly sagging, you couldn’t help but nod in relief. “yes, thank you. love you both.” with that, you impatiently clicked the red button on the screen as jj’s house appeared. pocketing your phone, you spotted the blond in his yard, squatting next to his red dirt bike. and for a split second, you were just happy to see him, the events circling last night forgotten.

you approached quietly, making just enough noise to let him know someone was walking over. as his head turned, your jaw went slack at the fresh bruise blooming along his jawline. you cleared your throat. “hi.”

“hey.” jj returned to his bike.

“i, uh…i came to talk.” thunder rumbled from somewhere above. “about last night. about us.”

the entire way here you rehearsed what you were going to say, switching things out or removing them completely, but now, when he stood and looked over at you with a somewhat pissed-off expression, you found your tongue to be dry and your mind blank.

“what’s there to talk about.” he said it more like a statement and less like a question. “there’s nothing to talk about.” 

you licked your lips as droplets started to wet your shoulders and scalp. “we both know that’s not true, jj.”

he wiped his hands on a cloth before tossing it into an open toolbox. shaking his head and sauntering forward, he said again, “there isn’t anything to talk about. you say you care about me, but you don’t. you don’t. do yourself a favor and stop lying to yourself. stop lying to me.”

“no, i do care, okay?” the raindrops began to fall harder, yet the only thing you were worried about was getting your point across. getting jj to understand. “i have cared about you for as long as i have known you. that first night at the chateau with the others…when you finally let me in…i didn’t know then, but i know now—i love you. a lot.”

jj scoffed and shook his head with an incredulous smile, his stare glued to the soaked grass, ignoring the weight of your confession. “you don’t know anything, alright? that night didn’t mean anything to anyone.”

“yes, it did!” you persisted loudly, frustrated with both him and yourself.

“no, it didn’t!” he snapped, reaching forward and grabbing the sides of your shoulders in exasperation. when you flinched at his yelling, a sudden wave of realization washed over him, and he released you with a step back, blinking rapidly against the rain. “nothing happened; nothing is happening.” he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself rather than you. “you’re a kook. and i’m a pogue. we belong on two very different sides of this island.”

“jj,” you said softly. he remained still, hair stuck to the sides of his face as you went to cup it, palms resting against his wet skin. “just give in. for one pathetic second just forget about the social economic standing of everything and give in to me. please.” you weren’t sure whether the wetness on your face was your tears or the rain. “i know you want to, but you aren’t letting yourself. nothing you say or do will push me away. you’re stuck with me, pogue or not.”

his gaze flickered vicariously between your eyes and mouth, internally fighting with his own feelings. but, ultimately, you could see that your words had struck deep enough—that as the chill of cold water drenched your clothes and hair, as his warm fingers wrapped delicately around your wrists, thumbs sliding against your skin, you had won.

© luvsellie 2023 | do not repost, republish, steal, or translate !!

[sbaren]

Femcop!reader x Satoru Gojo

Age gap! reader in her 30s and Satoru at university. N

You don’t even know how you ended up like this; an imposing hand gripping your jaw, forcing your gaze toward the mirror, a mix of control and subtle tenderness burning through his touch. His other hand rests firmly on your lower stomach, applying a pressure so deliberate it blurs the line between pleasure and pain.

“Giving me fucking speeding tickets just for having a little fun…harsh don’t you think?”

Satoru glanced at your messed-up face in the mirror, his usual smirk still in place. He couldn’t help but wonder how he ended up with such a tempting cop in his university dorm room. One thing was for sure though: he wasn’t letting you go until he’d satisfied you completely.

He pulled back slightly, taking a moment to appreciate just how deep his thrusts were, each one raw and passionate. With every thrust, he paused, feeling as if he were a virgin again the moment he penetrated the barrier of your sweet walls . Satoru’s hand shot out, catching your wrist effortlessly. His fingers wrapped around it with a deliberate, almost lazy motion, sending a shiver down your spine. His presence was unmistakable, overwhelming. Leaning in closer, his voice, low and teasing, grazed your ear as his lips brushed against the lobe, a playful bite following, making your breath catch in your throat.

"Did you forget I was right here, ma’am? Don’t even think about moving…i’m about to savor every moment of your sweet body, just as it is"

Moments after uttering those words, the hand that had been firmly holding your face in place so you couldn’t look away from your reflection, began to slide down your chest. His touch was light, almost teasing, as his fingers grazed over your skin, pinching your sensitive nipple just enough to make you gasp. Each movement sent waves of sensation through your body, stirring a growing heat that you couldn’t push away. The more he touched you, the deeper the ache became, and you found yourself losing more control with every passing second.

You had one job: just give him that ticket for speeding, nothing more.

Few hours ago.

You were approaching the black Ford when Satoru slowly stepped out of the car, his hand casually resting in the air as he moved toward you, confident and deliberate. As he got closer, you lifted your head to meet his gaze, and his clear eyes seemed to pierce through yours, even behind his sunglasses, making it impossible to ignore the pull. But you were on duty. Being a corrupt cop wasn’t exactly on your to-do list for the year. You mostly knew Satoru because of his need for speed, so most of the time you found yourself handing him tickets for speeding.

“Satoru?! That’s the third time this week!”

“Yeah, and honestly, I thought you’d be more worried about me, like memorizing my license plate so you could stalk me around the city and—”

“Cut the bullshit,” you said, pulling out your ticket book and scribbling down the information. A small sigh slipped out before you handed him the paper slowly.

A quiet moment hung between you, the only sound the distant hum of traffic. Then, Satoru broke the silence, his hand sliding around your waist as he looked down at you, his 6’3” frame looming over you. In that moment, all he could think about was seeing you beneath him, wanting to prove he could satisfy you in ways no one else could—better than any man who had ever been close to your most private, treasured parts… Satoru might be a little delusional, but he was convinced he was the one you truly needed.

“I told you I’d pay double for all of them, but only if you let me… eat you out—wait, I mean, take you out, ma’am !”

“You wanna know what I need from you, Satoru?” you asked, placing your finger gently on his chest.

He nodded eagerly.

“It’s you realizing that my responsibility as a police officer will always come first, no matter wh—“

-

Well… being a corrupt cop and doing whatever you want for just one night won’t hurt anyone, right?

“Fuckk…let me breed you,ma’am…huh— feeling you so fucking deep—hm, imma fill you up so good, you won’t ever think about another man again.”

There was something intoxicating about seeing just how desperately Satoru needed you. He wasn’t just wanting; he was pleading, like a man on the edge of unraveling, his need for you consumed him entirely, and the way he clung to you made your pulse pound in response. Your gaze caught his in the fogged-up mirror, the steam swirling from the heat of your bodies. His reflection was a mess, lips parted, his breath ragged, and his eyes desperately trying to stay locked on you.

The moment your hands slid over his, intertwining your fingers, Satoru lost all control. A strained, guttural moan escaped him, his breath hitching as he whispered your name, pulling you impossibly close. The tension snapped like a taut string, and his release shook through him, his fingers gripping yours as if they were the only thing anchoring him to reality. He was completely lost in the moment, consumed by the intensity of the moment.

“Satoru—ngh..im 'bout to-“

Satoru doesn’t let you finish, pulling you into a kiss filled with raw desire. His thrusts, once precise and controlled, lose their rhythm, becoming more frantic as he seeks to savor every last drop of you.

The room was a complete mess, your cop uniform tossed carelessly across the floor, gadgets strewn about in every direction. As your eyes scanned the chaos, they landed on your walkie-talkie resting on the edge of the desk. The static buzzed for a moment before your colleague’s voice pierced through, pulling you back into the reality of the situation.

"Y/n, where’d you go? I thought you were just doing some quick surveillance…is everything alright?”

[tkdb-hell]

woah #1 and #2 with ren plzsbzm 🫶🏻🫰🏻💕💕💕🔥🔥🔥💗💗💗🫰🏻🫰🏻🫰🏻🫰🏻💋💋💋💋💋

#1 - Small kisses littered across the other’s face.

Kisses Prompt List • Kisses Masterlist

(I do my best to write the reader as gender neutral unless otherwise specified - if you send me an ask and prefer masc or fem, please let me know)

♡ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ♡

The glow of Ren’s phone illuminated his face as his thumbs moved in rapid precision across the screen. His eyes, half-lidded with a mix of boredom and focus, stayed locked on his game. The soft hum of the Jabberwock reserve filled the background: rustling leaves, distant animal cries, and the faint crackle of weather shifting from a humid warmth to an overcast chill.

You, on the other hand, were sprawled out beside him on the over-worn couch in the corner of the Jabberwock lounge. Ren had been ignoring you for at least an hour now, mumbling occasional comments like, “This level’s impossible,” or “If that clown calls me one more time, I’m throwing this thing into the lake.”

And you had had enough.

Shifting closer, you leaned on his shoulder, peeking at the screen. A cluster of brightly colored creatures exploded into pixels, followed by a triumphant victory banner.

“You’re still playing that?” you asked, feigning disinterest.

“Mm-hm.” Ren barely glanced at you, his thumb hovering over the next stage. “I’ve gotta grind for this rare drop. If I don’t get it, this whole week was a waste.”

You rolled your eyes. “What about me? Am I a waste too?”

This time, he did look at you, one brow raised, as if gauging whether you were joking or not. “Don’t be dramatic. You’re fine.”

“Fine?” you huffed. “I’m just fine?”

He turned back to his phone, muttering under his breath, “You know what I meant—wait, crap, the boss just spawned.”

The corner of your lips curled into a mischievous smile. If words wouldn’t get his attention, you had other ways to distract him. You shifted closer, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his cheek.

Ren flinched slightly but didn’t pull away. His thumb faltered for a split second before he resumed his furious tapping.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice more curious than annoyed.

“Nothing,” you said innocently, leaning in to press another kiss near his temple.

This time, his focus wavered. His character onscreen took a hit, and Ren muttered a quiet curse.

“Seriously?”

You hummed in response, trailing kisses along his jawline now. Each press of your lips was slow and deliberate, warm against his cool skin. Ren froze for a second before groaning, his voice tinged with both exasperation and embarrassment.

“You’re not playing fair.”

“Neither is this game, apparently,” you teased, placing another kiss near the corner of his mouth.

Ren shifted the phone out of reach, his free hand half-heartedly trying to block you. “Do you mind? I’m—ugh—this boss is going to—wait, stop—”

You laughed against his skin, delighting in the slight flush spreading across his face. “What’s the matter, Ren? Can’t multitask?”

“Obviously not when you’re—” His words faltered as you kissed the tip of his nose, the sudden affection stunning him into silence.

With a triumphant grin, you pulled back slightly. “There. Now was that so bad?”

Ren stared at you, his phone hanging loosely in one hand, the game forgotten. His expression was unreadable for a moment, then he let out a long, dramatic sigh. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered.”

His ears turned pink at that, but he muttered, “Yeah, yeah,” and leaned back into the couch, letting his head tilt against your shoulder.

For once, Ren didn’t complain about being distracted—or about losing his rare drop.

[dark-frosted-heart]

When the Holy Beast Falls - Azel

An “If you were lovers” story. As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

If Prince Azel and I were lovers…

Sometimes the Living God of Tanzanite would visit the befriended nation Benitoite.

On those occasions, he’d always have me go with him.

I’d never hear something cute like “I’ll miss you” from the two-faced god who apparently brought me along just to push me around.

But I know his true intentions.

--

Emma: Prince Azel, I’m back. 

Azel: You’re late.

Emma: I brought everything you asked me to buy since you can’t go into town, so please forgive me.

Azel: That’s not the issue.

Prince Azel, who waited by the entrance, took the packages from me.

However, it didn’t seem like he was considering the packages and studied me.

Emma: …Are you hurt?

Azel: You can see I’m not.

Emma: Then what is it?

Azel: You’ve kept me waiting because you’ve been having fun in town.

Emma: H-how did you know? Is this God’s power— 

Azel: It’s all over your face.

(I guess I was grinning)

At my honest confession, Prince Azel pinched my cheek.

Azel: You got some nerve. I’ve been waiting for you to come back—

Emma: You’ve been waiting? For me?

Azel: …Don’t get the wrong idea. I asked you to get something for me.

Emma: That’s too bad. I thought if you were waiting for me, I’d rush back the next time.

Azel: Hurry back even if I’m not waiting. That’s a debtor’s responsibility. I’ll add this late fee to your debt.

Emma: Is that okay? The more debt you add, the more you won’t be able to let me go.

Azel: …You’re getting defiant.

(You’re so awkward, truly)

With a grim look on his face, Prince Azel turned his back on me and placed items he had me get on the table.

He went to check its contents, but his hand immediately stopped.

Azel: Emma…What is this?

Emma: It’s cute, isn’t it? I made a stop along the way to buy it.

Prince Azel held Benitoite’s popular “Living God doll” in his trembling hands.

It was a small doll in Prince Azel’s likeness that was said to bring many blessings, including luck with money, love, health, etc.

(It took me a while to buy it since there as a line)

Before he could throw it against the wall, I snatched the doll from Prince Azel’s hands and held it dearly.

Emma: I bought this separately from the money you gave me. I’m not giving it to you.

Azel: Get rid of things that aren’t wanted or needed.

Emma: I refuse. He’s cute, isn’t he?

Azel: Cute?! I think you mean repulsive.

I moved the doll out of Prince Azel’s reach as he tried to steal it back and stepped away from him.

Emma: Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of it.

Azel: No one’s telling you to take care of it. I'm telling you to throw it away.

Emma: Throw away my beloved Prince Azel? I could never.

Azel [polite]: …I see, I see. Even with the real God present, you chose the doll and casted me aside. How cruel…This is a slight toward God. This blasphemy deserves divine punishment.

(Ah—)

Prince Azel deliberately covered his face with his hands and began sobbing.

I knew it was a trap, but it hurt my conscience to ignore him.

Emma: That’s not it. However, with this doll, I can be with Prince Azel even when I’m out running errands. It’s my way of showing how much I love you.

The instant I approached the god to butter him up, Prince Azel stopped his crocodile tears, took the doll from me, and tossed it into some corner of the room. 

Emma: Ah! That’s cruel—Mn?!

My eyes widened when he stopped my protest with a kiss.

Azel: Who’s the cruel one here? Cheater.

Emma: …Even though it’s a puppet of you.

Azel: If you want my blessings so much, I’ll give it to you. You’ll have to deal with it.

A large hand grabbed my chin and our lips met again.

The kisses of a holy, unrelated god were always so greedy, greedily exploring deep inside that it made you feel like you were going to fall.

(Why is every kiss so lewd…)

Even when I nipped his lip to tell him he was going too far, the two-faced god didn’t stop and instead started tickling my ear.

Emma: Mm…Mmm!

Azel: Don’t need the doll anymore? That’s wonderful.

Emma: Wro…ah

The fingers that were tickling my ear slid down my neck and under the collar of my blouse.

I hastily grabbed the hand that was going to defile me and looked into his mysterious, starry eyes.

Emma: I can’t return to my room anymore, can I?

Azel [polite]: A message from God. You should not be alone tonight for there are bad omens.

Emma: …A lot of good things happened in town though?

Azel [polite]: It will happen, and it will surely be a misfortune.

Emma: Specifically…

Azel [polite]: Divination is an ambiguous thing. You won’t know until it happens.

Emma: Then let’s test out if Prince Azel’s divination is really correct.

Azel: Why would you do that? Are you stupid?

He cupped my cheeks and squished them.

Emma: Because lately, you’ve been saying the same thing. That when I’m alone, misfortune, bad luck, or a disaster will happen to me… So I thought I’d try it out just once.

Azel: Being fearless isn’t good. God’s words are absolute, so you must heed His warnings.

Emma: I get it Prince Azel. You just really want us to be together, don’t you?

Azel: ……I didn’t say that.

(You’re so easy to read)

Azel: I don’t care if you’re here or not. I prefer being alone.

Emma: Then— 

When I tried to shake his hands off and turn away, he hugged me tight.

Azel: You don’t believe in God’s good will?

Emma: You just need to be honest and say that you want me with you.

Azel: Aren’t you the one that wants to be with me?

Emma: If I’m the only one that wants this, then I’ll only bother you so I’ll head back to my room—

Azel: Try to go back if you can.

(Ugh…He’s so strong that I can’t shake him off!)

Even after saying all this, Prince Azel still won’t admit it.

But when I turned to look at him, we kissed for a short moment.

Azel: Ah…

It seemed like he didn’t mean to and his brows furrowed.

(He never wants to admit it, but…)

Emma: You truly do love me, Prince Azel.

Azel: Don’t be so conceited.

A blush spread across his grim face.

(...God’s blessing was real)

(Because it’s possible to make Prince Azel look like this)

With a dramatic sigh, Prince Azel rested his forehead on my shoulder.

Azel: What am I even doing?

Emma: It's love.

Azel: No. I’m in no way in love with you. Damn it…

(There’s still a long way to go, but I’ll definitely get it out of him one day)

(An “I love you” from Prince Azel)

[beloveds-embrace]

I’m sorry this is gonna be long but i was just listening to “Labour” by Paris Paloma and it reminded me so much of the angst DukeDom AU you are writing (which is absolutely fire, you are so good, i love it very very much)

Cause the “emotional torture from the head of your high table” part hit me so hard because that’s literally (in my head) John Price in your AU with how deliberately ignorant he became to Reader’s suffering.

“Who fetches the water from the rocky mountain spring? And walk back down again to feel your words and their sharp sting” it reminded me so much about the angst part where Reader catches cold and later looses limb. But also…Kyle (I’m sorry) because once you wrote that he brushed reader off and treated her like he couldn’t be bothered to answer her questions and yk my brain made connection.

And oh my god the “I’m getting fucking tired” verse of the song is literally (again, in my head, I’m not trying to say i know your AU better than you do, it’s your baby, I’m just having fever thoughts) Reader when she gets fed up with them.

I especially love the “The capillaries in my eyes are bursting. If our love died would that be the worst thing?” because it feels a lot like her when the fire inside of her starts to finally dim because everything has just been too much and she doesn’t handle it well, because her cookie duchy is crumbling on her head.

“For somebody I thought was my saviour you sure make me do a whole lot of labour” reminds me a lot about the way she probably arrived to the duchy at first, getting married to John and not knowing what was actually waiting for her. And in all honesty, it’s not her fault he married her. But it somehow became her responsibility once everyone’s (stuff, the rest of 141, John himself) disapproval and blatant disregard started to pile up.

“I know you’re a smart man, and weaponise the false incompetence, it’s dominance under a guise” which may not fit fully but the way i felt like reaching through the screen and shaking John Price sometimes because yeah, you brought Reader into your home, your duty was to care for them and take care of her and you DIDNT. And worst of all, you allowed others treat her like nothing.

“If we had a daughter, I’d watch and could not save her the emotional torture from the head of your high table. She’d do what you taught her, she’d meet the same cruel fate” and it’s purely my thought but what if in angst branch of your AU Reader was actually feeling glad that John never came to consummate the marriage thinking about fate that could meet her baby. Especially if it was a girl (oh my god, my Sheila).

“So now I’ve gotta run so i can undo this mistake. At least I’ve gotta try” reminded me a lot about your Reader running away in some parts of this AU because yeah, she was looking for different life (rightfully so) and the realisation that the things as they are might never change actually pushed her towards moving into entirely different directions.

I love love LOVE that song, so to have my writing compared to it in any way? 😩 I’m amazed, thank you so much for your thoughts anon!! 🫶🏻💕

[nanamincreampie]

Badboy Sukuna part 2

Sukuna Ryomen x Black plus size reader

(part 1 )

Warnings: mentions of giving of a hickey, fingering, squirting, body worship ( kinda), Sukuna being a tease

Badboy Sukuna, who had never been one to hold back, felt the tension in your dorm room the second you started acting differently. The awkwardness between you wasn’t just casual discomfort, it was thick, almost tangible, charging the air with a kind of electricity Sukuna couldn’t ignore. You, sitting at the edge of your bed with your notes spread in front of you, seemed intent on avoiding his gaze, giving nothing but dry, clipped responses every time he tried to make conversation. And the way you stuttered whenever he flirted with you? That only made his curiosity burn hotter.

He sat across from you, sprawled out lazily in the chair by your desk, dark eyes narrowing as he leaned back. The way you nervously fidgeted with the pen in your hand only added to the awkward tension hanging between you. And Sukuna wasn’t the type to just let that kind of thing go.

“What’s going on with you?” His deep voice broke the silence, his tone just on the edge of amused as he propped his feet up, kicking the table lightly. His gaze was piercing, locking on your face as you stubbornly avoided looking at him. “You’ve been acting weird since yesterday.”

You didn’t answer him right away, your hand tightening around your pen as you stared at the textbook in front of you, feigning focus. “I’m fine. Let’s just focus on studying.”

Sukuna scoffed, not believing you for a second. “Yeah? You’re a terrible liar.” He leaned forward slightly, a smirk playing at his lips as he pressed on. “Is this about that kiss on the cheek yesterday? That’s what’s got you all flustered, huh?”

You froze, your cheeks burning at the mention of the kiss, your grip tightening on the pen. You could feel his gaze, sharp and predatory, boring into you, waiting for any reaction. And he got exactly what he was looking for.

Sukuna chuckled darkly, getting up from the chair and moving toward you with that signature confidence, hands tucked casually into his pockets. He towered over you, his shadow falling across your face as he studied you, taking in the nervous way you shifted on the bed.

“Come on,” he murmured, voice dropping an octave as he crouched down in front of you. His hand reached out, fingers curling gently around your chin, forcing your gaze up to meet his. “You really think you can avoid this? Avoid me?” His lips were close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “It’s just a kiss, sweetheart. Or are you too shy to admit you liked it?”

You swallowed hard, trying to pull your face away from his grip, but Sukuna wasn’t having it. He smirked, his hand sliding from your chin to the curve of your waist, his fingers pressing into the plush softness of your body.

“Sukuna, I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat, especially when you saw that glint in his eyes. His hands slid down your hips, slow and deliberate, the heat of his touch making your skin tingle.

Without warning, Sukuna pushed you back onto the bed, his body looming over yours, pinning you in place. The skirt you wore earlier was gone, discarded somewhere on the floor, leaving you in nothing but your panties and the blouse that clung to your curves.

“You’ve been driving me crazy all day,” Sukuna growled, his voice low and rough as his hands skimmed over your thighs, gripping the soft flesh. He spread your legs easily, settling himself between them, his eyes dark with hunger as he drank in the sight of you beneath him. “Do you know how hard it’s been to focus when you’re sitting there, looking like that?”

His fingers trailed up your thighs, inching closer to the edge of your panties. Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt the rough pads of his fingers graze your skin. His touch was slow, torturous, teasing you with the promise of more. And when he finally hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your thighs, you couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped your lips.

Sukuna’s eyes darkened at the sight of you, the soft, wet heat between your thighs on full display for him. His lips curved into a wicked grin as he traced a finger down the slick folds of your pussy, feeling how soaked you were.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he groaned, his voice thick with lust as his finger teased your entrance. He pressed in just a little, just enough to make you squirm beneath him. “All this from a little kiss on the cheek? You’re something else, sweetheart.”

You bit your lip, your hips bucking slightly, seeking more contact, more of that delicious friction. But Sukuna wasn’t in any rush. His fingers continued their slow, teasing exploration of your folds, collecting the slickness there, making sure you felt every agonizing touch.

“S-Sukuna, please…” Your voice was shaky, almost a whimper, and the sound of it made his grin widen. He leaned down, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck, nipping lightly at your pulse as his fingers finally slid inside you, deep and slow.

“Look at you,” Sukuna growled against your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “Already begging for it. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” His fingers pumped in and out of you with a steady rhythm, curling just right to hit that sweet spot deep inside, making your thighs tremble.

You gasped, your back arching off the bed as Sukuna’s fingers worked you open, his thumb brushing over your clit in a way that made you see stars. The pleasure was intense, overwhelming, and it only got worse when he lowered his head to press his lips against the soft skin of your throat, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

His other hand gripped your thigh, spreading your legs wider as he moved faster, his fingers now slick with your arousal. The wet, obscene sounds of his fingers thrusting into you filled the room, mingling with your soft moans and heavy breaths. Sukuna’s lips curled into a smirk against your neck, clearly pleased with how wrecked you were becoming under his touch.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he growled, his voice husky as he continued to pump his fingers inside you, his thumb rubbing tight circles over your clit. “All these curves… fuck, you don’t even know what you do to me.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, heat pooling low in your belly. The tension was building fast, a coil tightening deep inside, ready to snap at any moment. You could feel the pressure mounting, your body teetering on the edge, and Sukuna knew it.

“Come on, baby,” Sukuna murmured against your skin, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I can feel you’re close. Don’t hold back. I want to feel you come for me.”

His fingers curled inside you again, hitting that spot perfectly, and you couldn’t hold back any longer. Your body tensed, your thighs shaking as the orgasm ripped through you, intense and overwhelming. The sensation was so strong, so sharp, you cried out, your hands gripping the bedsheets as Sukuna worked you through it.

And then it happened,your body released, a clear stream of liquid spurting from between your thighs, soaking his hand and the bed beneath you. Your vision blurred as the pleasure crashed over you in waves, leaving you breathless and trembling.

Sukuna’s eyes widened in surprise, but the shock quickly gave way to a satisfied grin as he looked down at the mess you made. “Holy shit,” he muttered, clearly impressed as he pulled his fingers from you, admiring the way your body shook with aftershocks. “You fucking squirted. Damn, you’re full of surprises, huh?”

You were too dazed to respond, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Sukuna chuckled softly, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips, the contrast between his earlier roughness and this sudden tenderness making your heart skip a beat.

He pulled back, his eyes locking onto yours, a smug grin tugging at his lips. “You’re something else, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “I’m gonna make sure that happens every time.”

Still breathless, you could only nod, the heat of his words lingering in the air between you as you laid there, utterly spent.