#if you want to be removed from the tags by all means let me know

[bullet-prooflove]

Eddie Diaz - pumpkin 🎃 snake 🐍 heart ❤️

Tagging: @kmc1989 @gatefleet @tigolebittiez @mckinleysbones @totalstitchlover19

Companion piece to:

Box Breathing - Eddie's been struggling since Christopher left.

Always - You make a promise to Eddie.

Real - Eddie tells you he wants something real.

A Future With You - Eddie makes a realisation during a one on one game of basketball.

Cash - Eddie discovers your secret Instagram profile.

You have a thing about snakes, you always have. It’s an innate, bone deep, primal fear that alleviates all of your irrationally. Eddie discovers this when you open up an orange and black gift box with pumpkins on and you let out the most ungodly scream he’s ever heard. It echoes through the entire fire station as you hurl the box over the balcony and Eddie watches it hurtle through the air, the snake sailing out of the box before it completely disappears from view.

The look on your face in that moment, he’ll never forget it.

It takes them over two hours to find that snake nestled up against the hot pipe in the bathroom. You spend that entire time bundled up on the roof, refusing to come down until it’s been removed from the premises.

It’s Eddie that finally approaches you, Eddie that brings you his quilted jacket because the temperature is starting to drop and he doesn’t want you to freeze to death. You’re trembling when he drapes it around your shoulders and he knows that it has nothing to do with the cold.

“I had my ex sectioned last Halloween.” You tell him as you sit on a lawn chair, your hands wrapped around a fresh mug of tea that Buck had deposited by the door. “He was schizophrenic and when he was on his meds it was great but when he wasn’t…”

You trail off because you don’t want to go into all of that, the hallucinations, the erratic behaviour, the violence…

It was never intentional, always in the throes of a break, but the bruises the next day, the fear for your safety it was very real.

“One of his things was symbols, he used to see them in everything, clouds, puddles, oil stains. He also used them a lot, sometimes as love notes, sometimes as threats.”

“Is that what that was tonight?” Eddie asks you gently as he leans forward in his chair, studying you. “A threat?”

“No.” You say quietly, your thumbs tracing lightly over the glazed pattern on the mug. “Snakes, they mean eternal love. It’s his way of saying that he’s still in love with me, that he wants me to come home.”

“Is that what you want?” Eddie asks you, his voice a little rough. “To go back home, to be with him?”

“No.” You tell Eddie, your gaze flickering up to meet his. “You’re the only one that has my heart Eddie, you should know that by now.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

The whole discourse about the privacy/secrecy/support thing has been sitting with me for a few days (I mean other than it always does to a certain degree) thanks to all the excellent discussion happening and I know I'm not saying anything that hasn't been said a million times before, but I think what we're seeing and what we're going to learn (e.g. from TTPD) is that it wasn't just the support issue, but how it was shown/handled.

We've all gone out of our way to show that introversion =/= lack of support. Someone can be shy, reserved, etc. and still show up for their partner, whether in public or at home. To chalk any of the differences up to the clash between introversion and extroversion is unfair to folks who count themselves among either tbh.

@thisisctrying said something the other day that hit the nail on the head about how if that support had been offered in private, there very well may not have been a Joever to begin with, or at least not at this point in time. (Sorry for loosely paraphrasing, and for namedropping you! Long time listener, first time poster.)

If this were a case where the "shy" partner said, "I am really uncomfortable with the spotlight personally and do not want to court it, but I will support you in your ambitions and offer you whatever you need to make them happen and make the glare bearable," I suspect that would have gone a long way to making Taylor feel seen and comfortable in pursuing her goals in the way that she now has. Again, that might have been more akin to the balance that seemed to have been struck around 2019 from what we can see, but even speaking in a general sense, there are lots of couples out there, celebrity or not, that have similar approaches where there are highly driven people and busy careers involved.

(A famous example being Dolly Parton's marriage. Tbh I know next to nothing about her and Carl, but she's always heralded as an example in this regard, because her husband is famously uncomfortable with the spotlight and hasn't accompanied her to public events in decades, but she's said that she never minded that because that was always work to her, and what was important was that he supported her in pursuing all her career goals and basically ensured she had a place to call home to return to at the end of the day.)

We're kind of in a brave new world with her current relationship because it felt like, at least at the start, we were maybe watching her figure out her boundaries in real time as to what she was comfortable with or not and adjust accordingly. Like so many have said, I fully believe the extreme privacy thing was initially driven by herself and her experiences in 2016, and she needed that quiet time to recover from all of the things and figure out how to exist in the world again.

Stating the obvious, it seemed like eventually privacy was equated with secrecy, turning the relationship and the celebrity into the elephant in the room and something to never be spoken of to the outside world. People are free to choose whatever works best for themselves and their relationships, and for some the separate public lives might work, but the “kept me like a secret but I kept you like an oath” theme is all over her work and it’s clear that it’s a sore spot for her, because she’s been made to feel shame just for the life she leads so many times in the past.

What I’m trying to say is that it’s pretty obvious something Not Great was happening behind the scenes, which didn’t just amount to “she wanted to be a public celebrity and he wanted to be a private hermit.” (Also, in case anyone forgot, this is a person who also chose a public-facing career who also has to engage in press for it, but I digress.) As her career reached new heights post-folklore, if she had the support at home to do all the things without judgment and with encouragement, and in turn offer the same support to her partner, she may have very well lived just fine with that, not unlike Dolly Parton’s case.

By reading between the lines in all the press since, as well as comments on tour and general ~vibes~ with TTPD teasers, it seems like one of the issues was that that was likely not the case. There was all the stuff that we saw — the reticence to acknowledge each other in the media (particularly on one side), the lack of public support even at events at which they were both in attendance for their respective jobs, the great lengths they went to not to be photographed together at events they attended yet no problem taking pictures with other friends and coworkers, the jobs that separated them, the withdrawing from the public even for work accomplishments, etc. Which could all be manageable if a couple chooses to do so together and are not inherently a sign of trouble in themselves.

But what we’re seeing now I think is a reflection of the things we weren’t seeing then, and it seems to indicate some very deep hurt. (I know, call me Captain Obvious.) And like so many have been saying, it feels likely that that part of that hurt is rooted in that very lack of private support where a person would expect it from their partner. Obviously as a Taylor fan blog I’m going to be more inclined to understand her side of a story, but tbh, it’s also because… this is sooooooo common, and something I’ve experienced in my friend group. (@taylortruther is right when she says most breakups are the same one way or another lol.)

One partner is resentful of the other’s success, or resentful that the other’s priorities begin to evolve as new experiences unlock new goals, or feels the other’s ambitions are not worthy of pursuit, and coupled with perhaps their own struggles in the same domain, it’s easy to see where that can chip away at the other partner’s morale and faith in the relationship. I know I’m just speculating here, but I also don’t think it’s totally unfounded. (Again, because a) I’m picking up what she’s putting down and b) it happens to sooooooo many women even among us dull normals.)

With all the pointed mentions about how much Taylor feels supported in her current relationship and how she in turn loves to offer the same show of support to not only her partner but other loved ones, how she’s stepped out more in the last year to a whole host of events, how she’s mentioned feeling like she locked herself away for years and she’s just proud of her partner and happy she can show up for him even if the chaos around it is unsettling, it paints a picture of what perhaps was happening before last year.

To feel like you’re all alone in carrying the weight of the relationship (or burden of it), of twisting yourself into knots to accommodate the other person’s boundaries (or insecurities) but not feeling reciprocity for your own has to be so painful. (The idea that it may have been even darker and to have a partner not only be unreceptive to your own needs but even perhaps resentful/dismissive/belittling of them is even more painful to think of. I guess we’ll find out when TTPD comes out if that was the case, too.)

At a certain point, that lack of acknowledgement will force your hand to be able to reclaim yourself. And it feels like the further removed Taylor in particular is from it, the more she moves from being sad about the life she felt she gave up by leaving, to angry at the life she felt she was giving up by staying. Especially being in a relationship now where it seems like everything comes much easier, where she can be open about the person she’s with and show up for them, all the stuff that seemed as challenging as climbing Mount Everest in her past is nothing more than a molehill at best in her current life.

TL;DR: I don’t think it’s privacy that inherently spells doom for a celebrity relationship like this; it’s the mutual support and respect that does. If Taylor had felt that in the later years of her previous relationship, I think we could be seeing a different, though not necessarily unfulfilled, person right now in 2024, who’d be happy on tour but whose personal life would look a little different. But it seems like by losing that support she lost parts of herself, and we’ve seen her reclaim that in spades in the last year, and perhaps to degrees she didn’t even realize she could from before all the Bad Stuff started happening in her young adulthood.

I know this was extremely long-winded and unnecessary, especially about total strangers we only know through scraps fed through the media, but I just always bristle at this idea that issues like these boil down to “personality differences,” as though one person wants to live in a city and the other on a remote island, or some shit like that. The whole support (and gender tbh) issue is one that’s just very close to my heart because again, I have seen it play out with so many of my friends in long term relationships and marriages and I just think people in relationships (and women in particular in some circles) deserve better than to feel like they’re being, well, tolerated.

[malcriada]

Help save Bilal's family!

i want to talk about my friend Bilal @bilal-salah0. for over a year now, Bilal has been living in germany, trying to adjust to his new living situation in a foreign country, learning a new language and working full time. 

when the war started, he was far away from home and his family and has been living in daily fear for their lives ever since. 

being forced to work long hours and promoting his family’s fundraiser at the same time, he has taken on more responsibility than anyone ever should. still, he managed to raise money for their evacuation fund and helped take care of his family’s daily needs with the money he was making while working. 

in a cruel twist of fate, all of this got taken away in an instant. he lost his job and his apartment and even his residence permit. which means he is at danger of deportation from germany that could happen as soon as next week!

i have been in daily contact with Bilal for a while now and connected him with some of my friends in germany. together, we are trying our utmost to make sure he can stay in the country. anyone who knows german bureaucracy knows what kind of hell it is. but we won't give up.

without his job, he was forced to dip into the money of his family’s evacuation fund to cover their daily expenses like food and shelter. this meant he had to raise his goal from €70,000 to €100,000. this was not an easy decision for him to make, he even asked for my advice on whether or not to do it, because he did not want anyone to think he was scamming people. 

even in such a desperate situation, Bilal does not want to be seen as someone who would ever take advantage of people's generosity

his family is comprised of 18 members, 10 of them are adults and 8 are children under 16 years old, some of them newborns who were born amidst the chaos of war and displacement.

currently, he is sitting at:

€71,817 / €100,000

donations have been slowing down ever since he reached his original goal. i cannot stress how important it is that they pick back up!

WE ARE RUNNING OUT OF TIME! HE NEEDS TO REACH HIS GOAL BY AUGUST 15TH!

THAT MEANS HE HAS TO RAISE NEARLY 30K IN THE NEXT TEN DAYS. THIS CANT WAIT.

his campaign has been verified and can be found on @/el-shab-hussein’s and @/nabulsi’s list of vetted fundraisers here (#132, line 136) so PLEASE don't hesitate to share and donate.

With such a tight deadline, i cant do this on my own. So i implore you to PLEASE share this wherever you can– on your whatsapp groups, on your discord servers, please share his story on other platforms wherever you have reach! Please share his story wherever you can, so that we can ease this burden from his shoulders.

[ID: a gfm link with a picture of two small children sitting in the sand in front of a cooking pot. they are looking up a the camera, eyes half-closed. the title reads "Donate to Help Evacuate My Family from Gaza to Safety, organized by Bilal salah" End ID]

tagging for reach under the cut, please let me know if you'd like to be removed:

@meaganfoster @briarhips @dirhwangdaseul @mahoushojoe

@schoolhater @pcktknife @sawasawako

@feluka @terroristiraqis @irhabiya @commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria

@deepspaceboytoy @post-brahminism @khanger @kibumkim @neechees

@mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @7bitter @tortiefrancis

@toiletpotato @fromjannah @vague-humanoid @criptochecca

@aristotels @komsomolka @xinakwans @heritageposts @nibeul

@ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @communistchilchuck @dykesbat

@watermotif @stuckinapril @mavigator @lacecap @yugiohz

@socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @northgazaupdates2

@vakarians-babe @wayneradiotv

@psychotic-gerard @mavigator @communistkenobi @socalgal @chilewithcarnage

@ghelgheli @determinate-negation @papasmoke @omegaversereloaded

@xinakwans @givemearmstopraywith @loombreaking @killy @deathlonging

@palms-upturned @blackpearlblast @littlegermanboy @loveaankilaq @sar-soor

@fridgebride @27-moons @tamarrud @familyabolisher @fleshdyk3

@decolonize-solidarity @palipunk @gothhabiba

[aces-and-angels]

video taken from shahed's instagram follow: @shahednhall verification source (no. 224 on el-shab-hussein/nabulsi's list)

"I like to photograph everything. I like to collect special shots because the memory is not repeated. I like to make it in my memory and the memory of everyone. I did not like to share the destruction. I did not like to share the life that has become black and white despite this reality, but my message is to show the beauty of my family and how much they deserve life. I do not want them to appear in a picture they do not like and do not want anyone wish for it. The lens of my camera will continue to transmit the most beautiful shots. Get up, fight for me, a new danger that presses

I hope you save my life before it's too late.🙏💔"

- shahed (please read & share full post here)

no one should have to showcase their suffering for others to care. sadly, people only seem to mobilize after something truly horrific happens. i am begging you all not to wait for the next tragedy. there is no pause button, no reprieve, no escape from the suffering these families face on a daily basis. they all need your help now.

if you don't know her already, shahed is a 21 year old who used to be a student at al-azhar university before the genocide began. with both her parents having taken ill, she is the sole provider for her family right now, including her five siblings, youngest of whom is just a baby.

shahed is currently trying to put together an evacuation fund for her younger sisters (who have hepatitis and are severely ill.) they were recently removed from the clinic where they were getting treated due to overcrowding/because there were more pressing cases to be attended to, likely because of the massacres that took place days ago and are still happening today.

there is no room left for people's complacency-- it's okay if you're unable to donate right now-- what's not okay is assuming others will pick up your slack. just because your dash is full of 🍉content doesn't mean that's the case for others. you taking a second out of your day to spread shahed's campaign brings her that much closer to her goal. please do whatever you can to help her out.

SHAHED NEEDS TO REACH $40K USD BY THE END OF THE JULY IN ORDER TO GET HER FAMILY TO SAFETY

current stats: $34,137 raised

---

tagging for reach (sorry yall- if you wish to be removed from this list, please let me know, no hard feelings🖤)

@timetravellingkitty @meaganfoster @briarhips @mazzikah @mahoushojoe

@rhubarbspring @schoolhater @pcktknife @transmutationisms @sawasawako

@feluka @terroristiraqi @irhabiya @wellwaterhysteria @deepspaceboytoy

@post-brahminism @junglejim4322 @kibumkim @neechees @mangocheesecakes

@kyra45 @marnota @7bitter @tortiefrancis @toiletpotato

@fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @criptochecca @aristotels

@komsomolka @neptunerings @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @heritageposts @ot3

@amygdalae @ankle-beez @communistchilchuck @dykesbat @watermotif

@stuckinapril @violentrevolution @mavigator @lacecap @socalgal

@chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @northgazaupdates

[taqoou]

Help save Bilal and his family!

My friend Bilal @bilal-salah0 needs our help!!

image transcript:

my name is bilal. my family is comprised of 18 members: 10 adults, 8 children under 16 yrs old and newborns.

for over a year now, i've been living in germany, far from my home and family in palestine. when the war started, my family has been living in fear for their lives daily ever since. despite my long work hours and responsibilities, i still managed to promote my family's fundraiser. with all of your help, we successfully reached our original goal.

in a cruel twist of fate, i lost my job, my apartment and my residence permit. i am currently in danger of deportation from germany that could happen anytime soon!

without my job, i am forced to dip into the money of my family's evacuation fund to cover my daily expenses. our goal had to be raised from €70,000 to €100,000. i feel terribly sorry, as this was not an easy decision to make.

donations has been slowing down ever since we reached our original goal. i do not have much time left. you are free to repost this image, share my story and donate if you can. i believe in you. from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

bilal’s gfm is currently sitting at:

€85,817 / €100,000

HE NEEDS TO REACH HIS GOAL BY 15TH AUGUST! THAT MEANS HE HAS TO RAISE ABOUT 14K IN THE NEXT 4 DAYS! WE ARE RUNNING OUT OF TIME!

his campaign has been verified and can be found on @/el-shab-hussein's and @/nabulsi's list of vetted fundraisers here (#132, line 136) so PLEASE don't hesitate to share and donate.

he managed to reach his original goal once, surely with our help he can reach his new goal! so don’t give up. PLEASE share this everywhere — to your friends and family, groupchats, discord servers, wherever you have reach. engage and donate if you can. much love.

[ID: a gfm link with a picture of two small children sitting in the sand in front of a cooking pot. they are looking up a the camera, eyes half-closed. the title reads "Donate to Help Evacuate My Family from Gaza to Safety, organized by Bilal salah" End ID]

post referenced here

tagging for reach under cut, feel free to let me know if you want to be removed:

@commissions4aid-international @northgazaupdates2 @decolonize-solidarity

@fromjannah @jamjoob @kickedouttape @nikoco11 @neechees @heritageposts

@nibeul @communistchilchuck @laiosbians @dykesbat @sokadrawws @nikkipettt

@chloesimaginationthings @changewingwentz @chattematsu @toiletpotato @milkmanner

@buttonheart @taemincult @gazanarchive @donations-mutualaid

@artistsforpalestine @artistsforthepeople @palestineartproject @jannahpost

[naburi]

OPEN THE DOOR, YOU CHEATER

YUNA X READER - FT. EUNBI

TAGS: CHEATING, DRUNK, MOUTHFUCK, DEEPTHROAT, UNCONSCIOUS

2.3K WORDS

Being in your early 30s, you only need two things in your free time:good sleep and great sex. Late night in your hotel room, what you're seeking for is the latter. You are with your ex, Eunbi, who knows how to please you in more ways than your new girlfriend. Suddenly, a loud banging was heard, “Open the door, you cheater!”

“Open the door, damn it!,” she knocks aggressively. You and Eunbi didn’t mind the knocking at first as you are both consumed by the moment. You’re pounding her from the back, facing the open balcony, cold breezes enter the room contrasting the heat of your bodies. You’re holding her pony tailed hair, mouth open as she moans in rhythm of your pounding.

“Is that Yuna?” You turn your head to the direction of the door. Eunbi, still on all her fours, still panting, looks in the same direction. She couldn’t care less if your new girlfriend found out about you two seeing each other again. As far as she knows, she is just claiming what hers. She was your long-term girlfriend before you met Yuna, busy schedule and pointless arguments are the reason why the two of you grew apart. It doesn’t mean that your bodies weren’t longing for one another.

“Let’s go, do as I say,” you calmly say to her while you get her worn dress, small bag and high heels, not wanting to leave any evidence. You hold her hands going to the bathroom, you turn on the shower to abruptly clean your sweating body. Eunbi is leaning her fat ass at the countertop, digesting what is happening. “Why are we even hiding? I don’t give a fuck about her” she blurt out, now looking at her reflection, knowing no one can compete against her busty body. You put the towel around your waist after wiping your body, ignoring her remarks. Your girlfriend may not reach the same level of pleasure your ex gives you but you love her. She gives you the peace that Eunbi can’t give you.

“Don’t open the door unless It’s me, I’ll talk to her,” you instruct your ex to lock herself in the bathroom while you deal with your furious girlfriend. Naked and tired. Eunbi doesn’t agree with your plan but she knows she is not in the best condition to confront Yuna. You tried to give her a kiss before walking out, but she turned her head, avoiding you.

“Babe! Why are you here? I’m taking a shower when you knock,” you opened the door with your upper torso exposed, only wearing a wrapped towel in your lower half. You tried to give her an oblivious smile hoping that she would fall for it. “Do you think I’m a fool?” Yuna runs over you, her small frame moves you out of the way with aggression. You smell her breath with a stink of alcohol but she just walked fast towards the large bedroom.

“WHERE IS THAT DUMB BITCH?!” She blurted so loud, you just knew Eunbi heard that and is fuming with what Yuna just called her. She inspected the bedroom, removing the blanket, opening the wall closets, sweeping long curtains out of the way, even going out of the balcony. Your girlfriend is now taking heavy breaths, her face turns red as she gets more furious that she can’t seem to find even a trace of your ex.

You’re hoping that she finally stops checking in your unit as there’s only one place to look for: the bathroom. Both of you look eye to eye for a moment as Yuna also has the same realization as you. She rushed towards the bathroom, aggressively twisting the door trying to get to the woman inside. She knocks so aggressively, you’re hoping the door won’t fall off. “OPEN THE DOOR, YOU CUNT,” she said while continuing her rampage against the door. Eunbi is standing in front of the other side. Eyes glued to the door as she contemplates if she gives what your girlfriend is looking for. Her fists are clenched, while different possibilities are going through her mind. Should she drag the girl by the hair and fight her in the bathroom? Should she push the girl out and drag her through the unit? With Yuna’s aggressive state, while she’s still recovering her strength due to just having sex, Eunbi knows her chances of being on top of this brawl is slim to none. The door keeps getting slammed by the skinny girl, your ex thinks she just needs to find a way to outweigh the girl, pinning her down the floor.

Eunbi finally reached for the door knob but the slamming stopped. “I-I’m glad that you’re here,” you hug your girlfriend from behind as you try to talk your way out of this mess. You hold her two arms crisscrossing it in her body. Yuna took a huge breath. She leans back onto you “Someone says you get in the elevator with her,” she said softly, tears starting to form on her eyes as she’s trying to get a hold of her emotions. You hug her tighter as tears start to run down her face. “Who told you that? They are just Jealous of our relationship.” You met Yuna when she’s just a newbie in your company while you’re a Manager in a different department, thus the management didn’t interfere with your relationship. There’s still people who don’t like the two of you dating. They think your girlfriend will use you to move up the ranks. You know that you don’t need to pull strings as Yuna is one of the best performers in the company. Everyone is labeling her as just an Eyecandy in the company but her efforts and resilience can be seen in her work.

You sway your girlfriend towards the bedroom as you’re still hugging her tightly. You guide her to sit on the edge of the bed, excusing yourself to get her some water. Before you turn your back, your girlfriend holds your hand. Not saying a word, Yuna looks at you signaling that you sit beside her. It breaks your heart to see her teary eyes. You are about to sit beside her when you cup your face with two hands. She moves your head towards her, kissing you hurriedly, you can still taste the alcohol she drank tonight. She told you this morning that they will celebrate her colleague’s birthday, in a bar a few minutes away from your company building. The tinge of alcohol sets the mood of your make out session. From hurried kissing to hungry and passionate ones. You are also holding her face in place as the two of you exchange kisses like you haven’t seen each other for a year.

Yuna pulls down your towel, revealing your semi-hard cock. She pulls away from your lips, putting her attention in your hardening cock. “Sit,” your girlfriend said. The tipsy woman is now kneeling between your legs, her one hand is caressing your cock while she’s looking up at you giving you a drunken gaze. Her hot breath gives you chills when it runs through your cock. Not even licking your tip, she starts to engulf all of your shaft in her mouth. Your girlfriend always has a hard time, deep throating your cock thus it makes you wonder why she’s trying to swallow all of it from the get go. She starts gagging as you feel your tip move past her mouth down to her tight throat, gagging sound is coming from her but your cock is still getting deeper in her. A bulge in her neck can be seen as your thick cock is expanding her throat. This made you moan, surprise at the new found tightness. You felt Yuna’s nose hit the base of your cock as all of your shaft is inside the teary girl. Yuna’s eyes swell up even more as she tries to hold her position for a moment, wanting her throat to get used to the size of your cock.

Yuna left out a loud gagging sound as she pulls her head away from your cock, a thick saliva pours out of her mouth and some strings of it are still attached to your cock. Your girlfriend is looking at you, wanting to satisfy you more. She put your cock in her mouth in the same movement but now with certainty. She is trying to deep throat your cock again like she just did before. “Y-yuna-na,” you left a long moan as you felt her tight throat again, she repeatedly hit her face in the base of your cock signaling that she would swallow all of your cock inside her. She hit the base of your cock faster than the last, building a rhythm of your thick cock moving in and out her wet mouth.

Tears start to pour down in her eyes running her makeup. Your cock is glistening with her saliva, she keeps bobbing her head deep throating you. “Yu-Y-Yun-na,” you can’t compose a coherent word as you are repeatedly overwhelmed by the tightness of your throat. The tip of your cock gets compressed the further it moves deep within her. Despite her messy look, she still keeps up the pace with resilience as she wants to keep swallowing your whole cock. The look of her ruined face turns you even more thus holding her hair in a ponytail style. You bury your cock faster than she could take. This surprised your girlfriend as evident in her wide eyes. You didn’t try to be gentle with her as she stands up to get a better angle, you start to pound her face with all of your cock. Yuna’s eyes are turning white as her jaw is getting stretched open with your pounding and her throat keeps getting destroyed with every thrust you make. You can hear a muffled plop sound every time you reach her throat. Moans are coming out of her mouth as she’s gets turned on by how hard your fucking her mouth. She wants you to use her, and used her you did. You fasten your pace as her messed up face looks like it begging to get her mouth fucked even more. A continuously loud gagging sound coming out of her mouth as your fucking her mouth like it’s made to get used like this. Yuna’s face turns pale as she’s having a hard time breathing with your thick cock ramping down in her throat. She tried to hold her breath as much as she could as she wanted you to mess her mouth up. Your girlfriend taps your thighs signaling you that she needs to take a breath. A loud wet pop was heard as you finally pulled your cock out. Yuna catches her breath fast before positioning her head hanging down on the edge of the bed. Your girlfriend is laying flat on the bed while her head is hanging and wants you to fuck her mouth again.

“Use my mouth more,” she said with eagerness. You didn’t have to get told what to do as you positioned your cock in front of her head. Yuna’s tongue reaches for the tip of your cock, can’t wait to get fuck in the mouth again. You find her eagerness hot, you hold your cock to give her tongue a few slaps, teasing the eager girl. She caught your cock with her mouth and sucked it like she can’t live without it. This action from her made you thrust your cock deep in her throat again. This time is different, you can properly see how deep your cock is in her throat as your cock bulges out of her neck. “Yuna!” You called her name as you trying to fuck her mouth as hard as you could. You are determined to destroy her throat tonight. You keep pounding her while you observe the bulge form every time you put it in and how it deflates back as you pull your cock out.

Your girlfriend has just become your personal cock sleeve. From having a hard time to ducking your cock to face fucking her. Your girlfriend has made progress in pleasuring you. Her body has a potential for a great sex but her inexperience has been evident when you can compare it with your ex performance. She might not be able to give you the same experience as Eunbi does but Yuna gives you new found experiences. You now hold her head to ready it for a harder pounding. You fuck her face in a long and deep rhythm, her body rocks back with every time you pound her. Yuna’s tight throat has been getting used to your size as it comforts your cock perfectly. Your cock twitches, signaling you are near. You hold her neck while your other hand stays holding her head. You fuck her face deep as you want to explode deep in her throat. “Yu-na-a,” you called her name once more as long spurts of cum pours deep in her tight throat. You left out a long groan as you kept unloading cum inside her.

You pull your cock out of her as a combination of her saliva and your cums drip out her mouth. Yuna coughs up some of your cum but her eyes are still closed. She curled up on her side, asleep. “Yuna? Yuna!” You get worried that you knock your girlfriend unconscious due to mouthfucking her. You tried to wake her up by shaking her shoulders. “I need to submit this before the deadline!” Your asleep girlfriend blurted out. You realized that she’s your girlfriend is already dreaming, and she’s dreaming about work? You chuck as you find it hilarious.

The sound of a closed door shifts your mind back to Eunbi. You open the bathroom to look for her but there’s no trace of your ex.

End of part 1.

[fanaticsnail]

Dreaming of You

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,100+, 1,700+, 1,700+, 1,400+

Synopsis: They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. Sir Crocodile, Buggy, Dracule Mihawk

Warnings: wet dreams, afab!reader, swearing, masturbation, dub con (Using your image to masturbate to), suggestive content, feelings, all individual 'x reader' drabbles, same reader!insert different outcome, chop-chop fruit shenanigans, angst, romance, smut, kissing, NSFW, 18+, MDNI.

Notes: Dreaming of You Masterlist Here, Please read the warnings. I am having a lot of fun with this series, but this one got away with me. They're only meant to be silly little drabbles between larger fics. Sorry for the lengthy read! Enjoy playing the part of a marine spy for Cross-Guild!

Tag list: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @lostfirefly

Hips pressed against one another, huffing pants and gasps were collected in one another's lips and skin as he pinned your back against the wooden wall behind the burgundy curtains of the tent door. Legs collected over his hips, he held your left thigh in his right hand, his forearm caging you by slotting up between your right shoulder and the cool surface. 

Lusting and passionate, he drew intentional thrusts that were slow and deliberate enough to brush at your g-spot and mold your pussy to the contours of his thick cock. He slacked his jaw, his eyes swimming with emotion as he ground his pelvis against your clit with every heavy thrust. 

Your voice whimpered for him, stifling your mewls of pleasure by biting down into his shoulder and crying as he bullied his cock into your needy pussy. He groaned with you, rocking his cock in slow, languid thrusts up into your body. 

“Please,” you begged him, desperately clawing at his back and peppering his shoulders, neck and jaw with enthusiastic kisses, “We don't have long until the others come back.” He growled at your words, offering you a particularly mean thrust forward and a cruel bite against your neck. 

“A-Aah!” you gasped in shock, biting your lip and digging your nails into his shoulders harder. He sheathed his entire length greedily into you, his shaft twitching in bliss the moment he felt his blunt tip brush your cervix. His hips stapled yours against the wall he was bullying you against. 

“I don't care if they hear,” he barked against your neck, tracing his tongue over the bruise forming from his bite, “I don't care if they see.” He pulled back his hips only slightly before immediately propelling himself forward and forging his body against yours like soldering iron to a hot blade. 

“Let them hear,” he admitted, huffing against your neck as he rocked his hips into yours, removing his hand from hooking around your thigh to grip your neck and bring your gaze to meet his. “Let them see.” He plastered your parted lips with his own, desperate with tongue and teeth as he released your neck to hold your thigh once more. 

“I want them to hear,” he groaned into your mouth, rolling your cheek with his chin and kissing down your jaw, “I want them to see.” He trailed his needy kisses down your neck as he doubled his effort and sped up his rhythmic thrusting. 

As your core sucked him in each time he retracted, his mind was lost to him and was filled with primal desire. He needed them to hear your sweet moans and whimpers. He needed them to see who was making you feel this good. He needed you to know who you belonged to. 

“Say you're mine,” he growled, his lips mouthing up your neck, over your jaw and to your cheeks, “Say it.” He sped up faster, his cock hammering into you with every cruel, frenzied thrust. His hair was sticking to the dewy sheen of sweat against his forehead and neck, his brows furrowed as he glared into your eyes with an intensity he had never felt in life prior. 

“Say you're mine,” he barked at you, commanding you to fulfill his desires as his cock twitched within you. Your walls beckoned him closer, the thump of your ecstasy wringing his cock as he pistoned it within you had him desperately whimper and whine your name. 

“P-Please say you're mine,” he implored you in desperation, his fingers clutching your thigh in a heaping fistful as he continued to chase your mutual highs, “Tell me. Tell me your mine, and I'll be your slave.” He begged, kissing your lips and panting through his thrusts, “I'll be yours. Is that what you want?”

He chased your mutual high faster, rocking and pummeling into you with his heels digging into the floor. His belt buckle jingled atop his pants pooling at his ankles, your own pants discarded beneath you long ago. Leaning down, he took your peaked nipple into his mouth and rolled it over with his tongue.

A string of saliva attached from his lips to the puckered bud when he pulled away, huffing and panting at the lustful display of your breathing hitching. Body bouncing in sultry ripples with each thrust, he groaned as he felt his abdomen tighten with a familiar call of his imminent release. 

“Yes,” you whispered his name suddenly, clutching his neck and carding your hands through his hair, “Yes, I want that. I want you-...” You whined his name as he pistoned his length deep within you, “Please, I'm yours. Only yours.” 

He growled his pleasure at hearing your words into your lips, tongue lapping with yours and his hair brushing against your forehead. You hastily tugged him away from your lips by gripping the scruff of his neck and pulling hard. 

“W-What? Why are you-?” He began, his words halted by the intensity of your gaze. Your lips were parted, face flushed from a higher rise of hazy temperature, and skin forming lustful bruises and mapping his treasure with his marking kisses. 

“Make me yours,” you gasped at him, panting as your lust eclipsed your eyes, “Cum in me. I want it. Need it.” His eyes widened, and his jaw fell slack as his hips staggered their vicious thrusting deep inside you. 

“Fuck, I-I’m gonna-...” His abdomen tightened further, his eyes glowing black with luminescent lust as his seed spilled inside you with hot spurts, “I'm cumming-... hhah-... I-I’m cumming…f-f-fuck-...” Rope after rope of translucent cum released within your walls, the rhythm of your own ecstasy milking him with squeezing grasps on his throbbing cock. 

You called his name, throwing your head back as he trailed his eyes over your skin with adoration within his bliss. He couldn't get enough, reaching forward to collect your lips beneath his in a scorching mess of lips, tongue and teeth. With a desperate kiss to mold him against you completely, he forged an unspoken covenant to ensure you knew you were his and he was yours. 

Opening his eyes, the image of your blissed out afterglow faded from his vision. All that he was met with was the ornate ceiling in his bedroom, his cock twitching through the final waves of untouched pleasure. 

“No,” he growled, removing his duvet with his right hand and glancing at the lustful dance his swollen cock twitched with. A last spurt of cum spilled from the glossy slit and he immediately thrust the ruined blanket on top of his stomach to shield it from his sight. 

“Fuck.”

Sir Crocodile 

He balled his right fist, slamming it into the mattress beside his hip with a rumbling growl in his chest. Inhaling deeply, holding it for a few seconds, and exhaling slowly had him assess all that occurred to him with his night vision moments ago.

“Please say you’re mine. Say you’re mine and I’ll be your slave,” his own voice echoed in his mind, “I’ll fall to my knees and worship you in all ways. I’ll treat you like the deity I know you to be, showering you in praise and praying at your altar. Please.”

“I’m yours,” you whispered with half-hooded lessons, “I’ll only ever be yours, Sir Crocodile. Only yours.” He snapped his eyes awake, clenching his jaw impossibly tight and drawing his brows down in fury.

“I begged?” he snarled, reaching for a cigar and his flint-lock lighter, “I begged to claim you as mine?” He clicked his tongue before biting down on his cigar, lighting the end with a small flame and sucking in a sour lungful of smoke, “Utterly ridiculous.” 

Pulling the duvet away from his lap, he growled at the sticky ooze pooling at his abdomen before squaring his shoulders and walking to the adjoining ensuite in his master bedroom. The Cross-Guild tent did not have many luxuries, but he refused to go without simple pleasures while working with the disgusting clown. 

A bath was one such pleasure Sir Crocodile would not live without.

Running the water, he dropped each foot into the tub and sighed out at the contact of the freshwater rising to his thighs. The heat and steam eradicated his shame from his abdomen without much effort, melting it down and washing it away beneath the water. Groaning, he looked to his absent left hand and gazed down at the scarred stump. 

“We don’t have long until the others come back,” he heard your voice echo within his mind, drawing himself back to the dream and causing him to grimace in annoyance. He circled his palm and fingertips over his left forearm and molded the flesh within a firm grip. 

The pains on his phantom limb had returned, his mind racing and attempting to draw up distractions by any means necessary. Your midnight illusion was simply the latest commodity to preoccupy his attention with lustful desires, is how he rationalized such a shameful intrusion. 

He was a fourty-six year old man, not some prepubescent teenager so consumed with the need to fuck that their minds dreamed it into an untouched and sticky reality. The pain intensified, his teeth clamping in a rough hiss as the illusionary throb of his hand caused him to shake his arm from his grip. 

This was going to be a long and tiring day.

At the meeting, he was being short and harsh with anyone and everyone to cause him displeasure. His teeth snapped barks, his chest rumbling his fury and his hair was beginning to become disheveled. The clown was aggravating, and the swordsman’s silence was not as refreshing as it was under usual circumstances.  

His right hand only ever left his left forearm for the chance to draw up a cigar, yet the sour smoke did very little to soothe his pain, and his hand only seemed to make the intensity of the throbbing worse. As Mihawk and Buggy stood to leave the room, he remained behind and he finally hissed out a lengthy growl behind his clenched teeth at the pain. 

There was not a sound in the room, a slight ringing in his ears as the pain reached his head and dizzied his mind. Eyes scrunched tightly shut, he had no context for a gentle touch on his hand over his forearm until he snapped his purple eyes up to meet with yours. 

“Allow me, Sir Crocodile,” your smile illuminated your face, gently suggesting with your touch to remove his right hand from his left forearm. He attempted to fight the urge to bark at you, snap at you and give in to his desire to have you touch him. 

“And just what do you think you’re doing, Marine?” he growled, eyes narrowing and lips curling up into a deep snarl, “Who gave you the right to touch me-?”

“Oh, shut up. You've been horrendous today and I refuse to have this continue to be cause for your disgusting attitude,” you bit back, your own lips pulling back to reveal your snarl, “Let go of your arm and let me help you, damn it.” He immediately dropped his arm in favor of gripping your neck in a tight choke, bringing your face closer to his. 

“You dare to give me orders, Marine?” he roared at you, your teeth gritting back the pain and glaring into his eyes. “I was a former warlord, little spy. Now I hunt and kill your kind for a living.” As Sir Crocodile monologued, he remained ignorant of your hands working to find the clamps of his prosthetic hook and releasing the golden cover from his arm. 

“And now you touch me, spy? Offering me what, exactly?” he continued monologuing as you removed his hook and rolled up his embroidered sleeve. The pain in his forearm was so intense he could barely feel any relief of tension come from releasing his limb from the confines of his hook. “How are you going to help-... A-ah!” He gasped, his brows tugging up in the center of his forehead as he glared at you. 

Immediately releasing your neck, he looked down at his bare forearm within both of your hands and bit back a whimper. In his own grip, his scarred forearm felt hot and throbbing beneath his cooler temperature. In your warmer hands, his arm felt encased in an encumbering embrace like hot stones sizzling on a damp surface. 

Your thumbs traced the contours of his muscles, dipping between his bones and rolling his muscle between your fingers. The heel of your palm added a tight pressure to his ache, his breath coming out in rough pants the longer you held him in a tight grip. His eyes softened, his scowl loosening from anger to pain. 

Hissing and panting, an uncharacteristic whimper fell from his lips as you silently focussed on working the flesh within your skilled grip. Circling your thumbs and contracting your hands, you instructed him with calming and soothing words. 

“Deep breaths now,” you whispered in a slow and intentional hum, “In when I squeeze, and out when I release.” He nodded his head, feeling the soft roll of your hands over his skin. As you tightened his grip, his chest expanded with a lengthy inhale and exhaled as you withdrew. 

Repeating that motion, he felt the tension in his mind begin to release him from his illusions. Focussing on your movements as your voice soothed him with each direction, he didn’t expect his emotions to overcome him at such kindness. Your hard contractions over his arm eased up, your fingertips tracing the scars on the vacant nub and causing his flesh to tingle beneath it. 

“Better, sir?” halting your soft motions, you gently placed your hand on his forearm and held faint pressure over his skin. Reopening his eyes, he felt tangible relief wash its way over his face. Gazing into your eyes, you held nothing but empathy and gentleness in your twin orbs. He leaned down over your face, bringing contact between your two foreheads and offering you the slightest of smiles. 

“Why would you do that?” he whispered in an uncharacteristic soft voice, “Touch me like that? Offer me such kindness after all that’s occurred between us?” He raised his right hand and cupped the back of your head in a firm grip to hold you against him. 

“You didn’t kill me the moment I stepped into the red tent,” you smiled warmly at him, “Nor did you kill me any day thereafter.” Giving his arm another gentle squeeze, you glanced down at his missing limb and offered him a melancholy smile. He growled at your confession, searching your eyes for a further explanation. You huffed out a sigh, smiling further with a soft twitch up your cheeks. 

“I used to do this for my friend back at the marine base,” you offered him a glimpse at your history with your explanation, “Did it all the way up until the day she died. Said something about my hands feeling warm against her skin, different to her own temperature. Soothing.”

He chuckled at that, nodding against your head and closing his eyes shut in momentary bliss. That was why you felt so good on his skin, your skilled motions causing him aid and relief. You have done this before, and were offering it freely to him. 

“Oh?” he asked, his smile tugging at his cheeks and elevating the scar over his face, “And did she manage to say what she did without you by her side to aid her?” You laughed at him, breaking away your contact from his forehead and scrunching up your nose playfully. 

“I was always by her side, sir,” you confessed to him, nodding as you spoke, “She and I were inseparable, even in cabin quarters.” He nodded in understanding, looking down to his limb and back up to your eyes. 

“Well, if that’s the only solution for the pain I’m encountering,” he uttered, his lips curling into a wide smirk, “I would see you gather your personal effects and move into my cabin beside the tent, immediately.” You laughed at him, rising from his side and beginning to leave the meeting room. 

“I hardly think that would be appropriate. Don’t you agree, sir?” you question him, collecting your bag from the circular table in the center of the room. As you moved to leave the tent, a strong forearm snaked around your chest and grasped your shoulder, tugging you firmly into a broad chest. 

“Wasn’t a suggestion, Marine,” he whispered into your ear, the smooth rumble of his voice shooting tingles up your spine and causing you to gasp. “You’re mine now. Hear me?” He grazed his lips over your cheek and down your jaw in a slow motion. 

“Mine.”

Buggy

“Oh, what the fuck?” his nasally voice huffed, his makeup free face flushing with a hefty sprinkle of dark blush, “You’re fucking kidding me.” He reached down to his cock and fisted it in a pistoning motion. 

“Had to be you, didn't it?” he cursed your name in a pouty snarl, “The fucking spy.” He swirled his cock in his palm, growling at it before he simply detached it with his balls and brought it up to his face. He frowned in a deep scowl, drawing up his heckles as he began chastising his cock. 

“C’mon, man! How could you do this to me?” He growled at his cherry-red knob, choking it in his fist, “You think this is fucking funny? You think I want to see ‘em like this?” He drew up his other hand and slapped his knob, his pelvis wincing in response. 

“Out of bounds,” he berated his cock, “The spy is out of bounds. You know the spy is out of bounds.” He pinched his knob, choking it and only making his pleasure heighten. “N-Nnngh-... Not for thinking about, not for trying to fuck.” 

He whimpered, his priorly ruined orgasm still gluing his duvet to his stomach. He growled, hocking a wad of spit behind his lips. He spat on his cock in an attempt to degrade himself further, only leading to lubricating his ministrations and causing him to throw his cerulean colored hair back into his plush pillows in bliss. 

“Hhah-... The spy is not for you, you fucking idiot,” he gulped his confirmation, his cock thrusting itself in his fist beside his head as he frowned at it, “Think about something else,” he closed his eyes, meeting the thrusts of his cock with his hand as he tried to think about anyone else he could sheathe himself in. 

“Buggy, I-I’m gonna c-cum-,” he heard your voice whimper at him, his cock twitching in his hand beside his face, “Buggy, please can I cum?” He shook his head, attempting to picture anything else. Faceless breasts bouncing, ripples of an ass jiggling, parted lips panting and huffing with eyes scrunched shut-... Your voice calling his name with adoration pouring from your lips like honey. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, shaking his head and attempting to go back to the earlier images. He only pictured your hair, your skin, your perfume, and your lips behind his eyes. Those lips used to spell secrets, split in a perfect ‘O’ as he pictured you slicking his cock up in your needy cunt with your erupting ecstacy milking him of his heaping load. 

“Fuck! No, no, no, no, n-oooh!” He threw his cock away from his face to not shoot himself in the eye with his release. It spattered the wall in a secondary wave of sticky cum like a grenade exploding on impact. “Nnnngh-... F-Fuck. Fu-uck-... C-cumming-.” His abdomen contracted as he rode the remaining waves of his orgasm untouched and unstimulated. 

Ropes of guilt shot out of his small slit and coated the wall and floor in a sticky pile of pearlescent cum. He groaned your name, huffing and panting as his hips bucked up in an attempt to stimulate his detached cock. 

“N-... No…” he whimpered, bringing his palm up to his face and clapping it over his lips. “Not the spy. I can't-... I can't have the damn spy. They're a bloody marine, you fucking idiot,” he degraded himself further, rising from his bed and wiping his abdomen of the solidifying globs of sticky cum with his duvet. 

He reached his cock, staring at it as it looked like a pathetic, slobbering drunk as it lay in a pool of its own drool. He clicked his tongue at it, picking it up and dusting it off before reattaching it to his pelvis. Readjusting his balls, he found his red jumpsuit and messily thrust it over his body in one swell motion. Instead of throwing his arms through the sleeves, he tied the material around his waist and offered to remain shirtless. 

“Not the spy,” he whispered to himself as he exited his ornate living quarters at the Cross-Guild base. Making his way to the kitchen, he was halted by a soft hum reverberating around the room. 

A familiar somber tune painted the air with its melody, his eyes shutting and the corner of his mouth ticking up as he listened to the lyrics. Stepping into the room, he attempted to mask his nerves with his signature mischief written on his face. 

As he drew his eyes over your features, your back facing away and staring out the window by the sink, he couldn't help but have the mask of protection slip away. Your lips whispered the lyrics, your heart carried the tune. You were not in your marine uniform, nor were you adorning the attire Sir Crocodile purchased for your protection. 

You were dressed in simple, gray-coloured slacks that hung loosely around your hips. The top you were wearing was a cropped t-shirt with his Jolly Roger printed on the back. His lips parted in shock as he drank you in, listening to your soft singing and closing his eyes to experience it fully. 

Before he could manage to say a word to reveal his presence, your hums ceased and your voice lowly uttered your apologies. 

“Sorry, Captain Buggy,” you bow your head to him in greeting, “I was not assuming the three of you to be awake so early. If I bothered you with my noise, I apologize.”

“N-No bother,” he huffed your name and hastily gave his reply to you with a soft blush, “I-... I haven't heard that song since the old days. Way back when-... When Roger…” He trailed off, looking at a point just beyond your hips and against the sink beside you. 

“I love the old shanties,” you chased his gaze with your own, angling your chin down and attempting to pry his eyes up to meet yours, “They're either about drinking, fucking, or grieving.” Buggy met your gaze, grinning up at you with his teal eyes beaming. 

“Ah, two of my favorite pastimes,” he added his commentary, leaning in closer and a cheeky smile pulling at his cheeks, “I’m not one for fucking.” He shot you a wink, prompting you to laugh at his joke. Your laugh was music, each soft teeter was as radiant as a lilt from heavenly minstrels. After teetering off your laugh, he offered you a soft smile with his eyes wide and curious. 

“Would you mind…?” Buggy trailed off again, nervously clutching the back of his neck and cringing through his smile, “...Could you perhaps tell me why you decided to join us, again?” He released his hand from his neck and darted his eyes between yours. 

After taking a moment to collect your breath and mull over what it was he asked of you, shrugged and offered him a simple answer. 

“The Berry is good, and it’s mutually beneficial,” you nod at him, smiling with your answer, “You were the one who offered me a choice, remember?” Crossing your arms, you leaned your hips back on the sink and glared at him, “It was either: spy for the marines as a triple agent for your Cross-Guild with a livable wage, or have Crocodile or Mihawk take my head. I chose you, Captain.” 

As Buggy was reminded of his prior actions and offered you a sheepish smile in response. Stepping forward, he reached for your forearms and waited for you to flinch away or chastise him for such a soft gesture. In the wake of such a softness, he was pleasantly surprised when he felt your fingers interlace with his own and hold them beside him.

“You know, ‘m sorry ‘bout that,” he mumbled, looking to his toes and pouting his unpainted lips, “Didn’t mean t’ have it sound so bad.” You smiled in response, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze and angling your chin down to look at his uncovered fingers. 

“You know, you’re actually quite handsome,” you confessed in a breathy whisper, “The infamous Captain Buggy D Clown, genius jester, king of fools, and calamity of chaos.” You named his titles with a soft smile, looking up into his rainforest-colored eyes with such gentleness. 

“You-... You think I’m handsome?” He asked you, your soft laughter prompted his own to slip freely into the air. You unplaced your right hand from his left and cupped his cheek within your palm, running your fingers through his hair. 

“You’re usually dressed in makeup, with your long hair tucked under your hat,” you collected a strand between your fingers and rolled your thumb over the lengthy blue locks, “And, you usually don’t have this much skin revealed.” Looking down at his chest: his messy blue hair trailed down his chest, tapered off at his stomach, and picked up again like a cerulean trail leading to the assumed treasure beneath his red jumpsuit. 

“I’m not used to seeing this much of you, Captain,” you muffled, drawing your gaze back up to his with a rapidly broadening smile, “And I’m not mad about it.” Your eyes creased at the corners as you offered him a toothy grin in response to his vibrant blush.

The hue of his cheeks rivaled that of his nose and jumpsuit, his eyes almost weeping from the rapidly rising blood pooling in his face. His Adams apple bobbed at the compliment, gulping back a dry pit in his throat and swallowing it. 

“Y-You know,” he stuttered, chuckling to cover his nerves and squeezing your remaining hand in his in two short motions, “I… I take back my earlier sentiment, uh-... If you’re interested?” He continued stuttering and choking on his words as he clumsily cartwheeled around his intentions.

“Oh?” you smirked at him, raking your fingers through his hair and darting your eyes between his, “And what was your earlier sentiment again, Captain?” You trailed your fingers down to the end of his lengthy locks. 

He gulped his terror and humbled himself by offering you a short, huffed laugh. After taking a moment, his eyes twinkled in mischievous hope as he rejoined your eyes in a smiling gaze. 

“I am one for fucking…”

Mihawk

Amber eyes stared in horror at the ceiling, wide and unblinking as he replayed the final moments over and over again in his mind. He drew his right hand down to grasp around the steel girth of his deflating cock and wield it in his firm grip. 

“I want that. I want you, lord Mihawk,” You whined his name as he pistoned his length deep within you in his mind's eye, “Please, I'm yours. Only yours.” His breath hitched in his throat, his eyes twitching but remaining staring vacantly at the ceiling. Thumbing over the prior release, he hissed in agitation the moment his fingers collected his viscous eruption. 

“How fatuous,” he snarled, raising his duvet once more from his waist, “So puerile.” His face remained vacant, his eyes holding only a touch more agitation than his usual persona as he walked to his ensuite shower. Turning the taps, he didn’t wait to feel the rise in water temperature. 

Stepping into the freezing water, he made no reaction as the icy liquid pelted at his skin; not even blinking to dampen his rapidly drying eyes. The water began to elevate in temperature as he released his cock from the grip. Gathering his sandalwood soap bar in his hands, he began lathering himself in foamy suds and washing over his body with his shock and shame still evident on his features.

The only time he closed his amber eyes was when he washed over his face, scrubbing at his whiskered chin and massaging his cheekbones. As soon as his eyes closed, he only saw your face contorted in pleasure, your ethereal moans freely haunting him in his ears. Shaking his head beneath the water, he only saw your face and imagined your hands clawing at his back beneath the water. 

Horror and shock eclipsed his eyes upon reopening, his eyes remaining that way as he concluded his shower, dried himself off, applied his cologne and skin care products, and dressed himself in his pants and greatcoat. His fingers stuttered over the lacing on his outer greatcoat, his lengthy necklace almost choking him as he placed it over his neck.

Almost stumbling into the dining space, he searched in his mind for a reason something so juvenile could occur for someone of his age, standing, and stature. He had gone for so long without taking a lover, he barely felt any lusting urges overcome him anymore. It didn’t suit his routine, his monotony, or his lifestyle as a former warlord. 

His apathetic and bored stature coming from a place of loneliness in his sovereignty as World's Greatest Swordsman. His achievements were already so vast, and he had nobody to share them with - nor a desire to begin a courtship with someone akin to his title. He had no time to take a lover, no time to indulge in whoring as it took away from his duties tending his garden in Kuraigana, and his bounty collecting as Marine-Hunter for Cross-Guild. 

So, why did his mind replay your pleasure over and over again in a loop of falsified memory? The marine spy, the confidant to cross-guild, the whispering oathbreaker; all the titles he sought to bestow you with. His hands reached for the bottle in front of him, clasping the green glass in his hands and uncorking the waxy tip. Pouring the rouge liquid into a crystalline glass, he felt a presence to the side of him.

“Could you spare a glass for me, my lord?” your soft susurration drew his attention back to the present, prompting his eyes to flicker to you. He witnessed your soft smile, your gaze assessing his face and shoulders.

Wordlessly, he reached for another glass and began readying it for you. The dry liquid coated the glass, a soft drop spilling from the rim and down the stem which caused you to knit your brows in concern. 

“Everything okay, my lord?” you asked, reaching for a napkin and beginning to clean up the mess, “You seem out of sorts this morning. Berry for your thoughts?” You dabbed at the table with the wafer-thin paper and tidied up his spill without a second thought. His eyes followed your motions, almost viewing the dabs in slow motion the longer your hands lingered near him. 

His silence seemed to perplex you further, turning your shoulders and leaning your hips back against the marble counter and staring up into his unblinking eyes in response. His shaking hands reached for his wineglass and drew it up to his lips. His mustache dipped into the liquid, messily staining his upper lip with the tart tannins. 

Gazing at his shoulders, you noticed a loop of his shoulder straps seeming to bubble within the corseted lacings, your hands absentmindedly straightening the bonds without much thought. Mihawk choked on his liquid the moment your hands brushed against his shoulders. 

Feeling the warmth float from your fingertips to the exposed skin beneath the weighty jacket, his eyes widened briefly and his pupils narrowed in an accusatory glare. Huffing a nervous laugh as his soft choke and shaking your head, you reached behind you to the pile of napkins and began to raise it to his face and lightly pat at his stained skin. 

Reactionary, he immediately placed his glass down behind you with his right hand, his left clapped around your invasive wrist in a circled vice-grip. Your breath caught in your throat, darting your eyes around his face with your eyes wide and panicked. He immediately drew his face forward and captured your lips beneath his without restraint. He hummed into your lips, raising his right hand and carding his fingers through your hair to deepen the passion.

Lips, tongue, and teeth pulled and tugged at your mouth from the swordsman, his gentle moans and sharp breaths depicting his wanton need to join himself with you immediately. He was pent up for so long, restrained for so long, and his body betrayed him in a shameful display in his dreams as proxy to such desire. If his overnight visit from you as his midnight muse spoke for anything, it was that his needs were now becoming more insistent, prominent, and desperate to be satiated. 

And you were who he wanted to aid him in such a task. 

Your hands raised defensively beside you, your eyes were wide and staring at his furrowed brow and tightly clamped eyes. He continued pressing heated and passionate kisses against your lips with gusto. Not giving you time to adjust or react, he anchored himself between your legs and pinned you against the marble dining station. Lips trailing to your cheek and down your neck, he bit, nipped and sucked at your revealed skin. 

His hands looped around your neck and shoulders, drawing you against him with an incessant need to depict to you his desires with his unyielding grip. You gasped as his lips traced up your skin and returned to your lips, your hands dropping to brace yourself beside you on the marble surface. 

Pulling his lips away, he held your face stationary by palming at the scruff of your neck and holding your attention with his honey-colored eyes. His predatory gaze narrowed in on you as his bruise-kissed lips ticked up in his signature smirk. 

“There,” he snarled at you in soft agitation, before releasing your neck. He collected his wineglass and green bottle from behind you, keeping his face in close proximity. His smirk drew up further as he turned to walk away from you. 

Calling over his shoulder, he snickered his taunting remark at you before leaving through the door, “Now I can occupy your thoughts the same way you've been tormenting me in mine.” 

You stood there stunned, frozen in place as your lips still tingled with the feeling of his against yours. The silky scrape of his neatly cropped beard tickling your cheeks, the way his tongue brushed with yours, and the animalistic desire to consume you with his lust had your soul ignited. 

Turning to the marble bench, you claimed your wineglass and raised it to your lips, immediately gulping back the tart liquid in a heaping swig. Placing the glass in the sink, you stared at the door Mihawk just left through, your thoughts spiraling and sifting through all the possible scenarios of what his words meant, and what the kiss means for you now. 

Only Mihawk knew what he intended with the kiss, and after the morning meeting, he was going to give into his desires further and offer you a place in his bed to have his dreams become reality. 

[httpscomexe]

Double Trouble

Day 1 of Kink-Tober - Double Penetration

Summary: You never listen on missions, and you’re not too sure that the punishment from your two best friends would change that at all.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Stucky x Reader

Warnings: Arson, violence, fire, language, pv smut, fingering, oral, kind of non-con, forced sex if you squint, double pen (Lmk if I missed any)

Tags: @cellyx33

Word Count: (Find my Kink-Tober list here) 2769

P.S. If you would like to be added to the Kink-Tober tag list, just let me know.

“Investigators are still unsure of what has caused this explosion, but the accident is leading to an arsenic attack. There are no known motives leading to the fire, which officials believe was more of an attack with intended murder.

Only one body was found in the fire, a sixty-three year old man. After a quick look up, the police force discovered he was wanted for tax evasion along with seven other crimes that are punishable by death, including human trafficking, and other triggering activities.

The man went by the name “Firehouse,” ironic considering the situation, and his government issued name has been identified as “Donald Pastry Newsont.” If anyone has any information involving the situation, please call…”

“This shits annoying.” Bucky grumbles, reaching over to turn off the radio.

“Hey I was gonna call that number!” You joke in the back seat, sliding the thick fireproof pants off of your waist and onto the floor.

“Very funny, Y/N.” Steve, the driver, keeps his eyes on the road, but you occasionally see his eyes move to the mirror facing the middle backseat where you were.

“What? I have information on it.”

“We weren’t supposed to cause an explosion.” Bucky rubs circles on his temples. Annoyed by you. Yea. You weren’t supposed to blow up the house, but you couldn’t help it.

“I know that, but it was an accident.”

“You are literally wearing an entire fucking fireproof outfit.” Steve slams his hand on the wheel, a little more aggressively than he means to.

“Language Stevie.” You mumble, taking off the jacket part of your outfit.

“Can’t you take that off when we get to the damned hotel?”

“It’s like super hot.” You complain to Bucky, throwing the last of the articles of clothing on the floor before removing the long piece of ribbon from your ponytail that was holding your hair together, which you tie around your wrist. “Y’all are just jealous you don’t have fireproof gear.” You taunt, leaning forward as you rest your arms on the shoulders of their chairs.

“We ALL have fireproof suits. And we would’ve brought them if we knew you were going to start a fucking fire.” Bucky turns around, his face inches from yours.

“Oh come on. It was cool.”

“Yea, it was totally so cool when you zipped up your outfit before throwing the match on the ground and I barely had two seconds before the shit blew up to put my shield in front of me.” He turns the car, taking a right onto a one way street.

“Sorry, I just-”

“No.” Bucky cuts in, facing you again. His look is serious. You knew he didn’t like you disobeying what they tell you for missions this important. But this time they were both angry. Normally, it would just be Bucky, or just Steve. So you know you fucked up.

“You two bring up the bags, I’ll get the key.” Steve nods towards you and Bucky after putting the car in park. “And let's actually follow orders this time. Okay?” He asks, sarcastically.

You nod, getting out of the car with an annoyance in your step as you cover your body with crossed arms. The uniform you were wearing was more like lingerie. Normally it wouldn’t bother you around the two people you feel most comfortable with, but when they are mad, it only makes you feel uncomfortable in your own skin. So you follow behind Bucky, carrying your own bag of clothes while he carries his own and Steves, the elevator ride uncomfortably silent as Steve gets the key to the room. Leaving you alone with Bucky as you both stand at the door to the room. Not a single word to be spoken.

You look up at him, his eyes focused on the screen of his phone as his thumb scrolls along the device, little images moving through his blue eyes tells you he’s scrolling through someone's Instagram profile. You look down at his left hand, his metal thumb hooked into the pocket of his jeans as he stands there, staring at his phone, a pissed look still visible on his face.

Then you hear footsteps, causing both of you to turn your head to also pissed off Steve Rogers, the room key between his index and middle finger.

“A little quiet. Are you guys suddenly mortal enemies?” He jokes, scanning the key on the hotel door before holding the door open for you and Bucky.

“Why talk to her when she doesn’t even listen?” Bucky asks, rhetorically. Then he throws the bags of clothes down, crouching over to take out some clothes. “Who wants to shower first?”

“Doesn’t matter to me.”

“Let her shower first. She was wearing that thick suit. I'm sure enough she smells like shit.” Steve crouches next to Bucky, also grabbing his clothes.

You open the door to the bedroom, taking one step in before stopping and looking down at the two best friends. “Hey, who’s sleeping where?”

“There’s two beds. You get one bed, we share the other-”

“There’s only one bed.” You interrupt Steve, his eyebrows squinting in confusion. “There should be two, are you sure?”

“Well unless I’m blind or forgot how to count, yes, I’m sure.” He stands up with Bucky, both of them looking into the room. One king sized bed.

“Well shit. I’ll go down to the office.” Bucky tells you both, then leaves without another word.

“If they can’t get a two bedroom for us then you and Bucky take the bed. The couch will be too small for you both.” You offer.

“The bed will be uncomfortable for you.”

“I’ve slept on the floors.”

“Correction. You’ve tried to sleep on the floors.” He looks down at you, your arms crossing over your stomach in a sort of challenge. “Fine. We can take the bed if he can’t find another room.” He sighs, walking back over to his bags on the floor. “Go ahead and start your shower though.” He groans as he throws himself onto the couch and stretches as you head to the bathroom, setting the water warm before getting undressed and stepping into the shower. The water falling mutes the sound of Bucky coming back in. You couldn’t understand a word he said, but he sounded annoyed. So you assume there isn’t another room.

When you’re done, you step out. The smell of your lavender shampoo and bodywash filling the air as you wrap a towel around your hair and dry your body before dressing into your short Captain America pyjamas and your thin black top with a red star on the chest, not wanting to throw on a bra or panties, you step out and put the two back in your bag on the floor, missing the looks that Bucky and Steve give you, also missing the look and nod they give each other.

“Hey, Y/N.” You look up to Steve's voice. “I don’t want to report your actions.” He stands from the couch and walks over to you until you have to bend your neck to look up at him. “I don’t like you getting in trouble for disobeying simple orders. But you have to be punished in some way.”

“Please don’t report it…” You beg a little, Bucky moving up behind Steve as they stand shoulder to shoulder. “Another report and I’m back to being a desk agent.” You whine a little.

“Which would really suck, wouldn’t it?” Bucky's eyes stare straight into yours, some hidden darkness concealed behind his pupil, you nod urgently.

“Then how should you learn your lesson?” Steve takes another step closer, his hand reaching up to push some hair behind your ear. “You have to learn somehow.”

“You need to be punished, Y/N.” Bucky whispers harshly, his left hand resting on your waist suddenly as your hands move to your stomach, the entire interaction making you nervous as you start to pick at your skin.

“I feel like you’re both implying the same thing right now…” Your voice is quiet, any louder and it would crack. “But I uh… Want conformation on what exactly-”

“I think the three of us should all share the bed, what do you think?”

You’re silent for a moment.

Your jaw clenching shut as his words shock you slightly, emitting a chuckle from Steve's throat. “What’s wrong baby, cat got your tongue?” You practically feel your eyes enlarge at his nickname.

Baby…

“Steve I don’t-”

“Enough talking. Get on the bed.” Bucky demands, his eyes leaving no room for argument as Steve begins walking you backwards until the back of your knees find the bed, Bucky gently pushing you to sit down before they both begin removing their shirts, and you scoot back a little. Debating whether or not you want this, your thighs clamped shut.

“Top or bottom?” Steve asks Bucky, nodding towards him.

“Top. You get the bottom.” He tells him, undoing his pants in front of you as Bucky already has his unzipped and unbuttoned, the tent in his boxers obvious as he crawls onto the bed, pulling you into his lap, facing away from him and you watch Steve get onto the bed. Sitting on his knees in front of you.

“Open up.” He tells you, gently slapping the side of your thigh before reaching forward and hooking his fingers through your shorts, quickly pulling them off. You immediately squeeze your thighs tighter. Wishing you could lock them shut. You try to speak, but your lips are locked in place of your thighs. “I said open the fuck up.” He demands this time, his large hands placed on both thighs, gripping your flesh carefully.

“Steve I don’t want-” Your voice cracks as he shuts you up with his own words.

“Shut up.” He grumbles, then forces your thighs open, a gasp coming from your lips as you feel the cold air against your heat. “Such a pretty pussy…”

He leans down, and only then do you realise Bucky has his arms around your stomach, keeping you still as he leans forward, kissing and biting the skin on your neck.

You moan, the feeling of Steve's beard against your sensitive flesh making your eyes roll as his tongue and teeth work diligently, two of his fingers eventually finding their way inside of you in place of his tongue when he begins to thrust his digits against your walls.

“Good girl…” Bucky whispers into your ear, biting your lobe before resuming his marks on your throat, one of his hands snaking down to find your clit, and he begins to rub circles around the bud, your eyes only enlarging.

You want to say something. To push them away. But you feel numb, like their touch was a drug that paralyzed you from head to toe, apart from the rocking of your hips as you seek more of Steve's touch, the feelings of both of their touch sending waves of pleasure through your body.

“S-Steve…” You moan, his face still buried in your cunt as he eats you out, his fingers curling to massage your g-spot, a hum from his throat sending vibrations through your body. “Bucky…” You whimper, and Barnes’ teeth bite your skin harder, his fingers massaging your clit. The feelings driving you crazy… “Feels… so good…” You whisper, trying not to moan too loudly.

“Come for us baby… Let Steve taste your sweet pussy…” Bucky's voice soothes your thoughts as he brings his two fingers up, sticking them between your lips as he lets you purse your lips around his digits, tasting yourself on his skin was just another reason to throw your head back against his shoulder, his lips moving down to bite your neck as you come, Steves hands gripping your thighs tighter as he feels your gummy walls clench around his own fingers, your juices coating his beard as he lets you ride out your orgasm.

“Good fucking girl…” Steve groans, sitting back up on his knees, keeping your legs apart as he slaps your pussy, drawing another moan from your lips before you feel Bucky's hands move between your bodies, then his dick is against your ass, making your back involuntarily arch away, but then your eyes land on Steve's cock, which was also removed from his boxers while you were looking away.

Boy did that serum do something for him. His size was unrealistic. There was no way he would be able to fit that thing inside of you. Ever.

“Look at her. Panting like a fucking dog and we haven’t even fucked her yet.” You feel Bucky's hand come up and close your mouth, his fingers resting under your jaw before he presses a kiss to your cheek. “So fucking hot…” He mumbles, then he grips your waist, pulling you back as he leans back. You were sure enough he was just as big as Steve. “You ready?” He asks, lifting you slightly to position you over his cock, Steve staring with a shit eating grin.

You don’t even answer, but he slowly lowers you down, the intrusion making you bite your lip, your eyes rolling in pleasure as Steve situates himself between your legs, leaning forward to press kisses to your throat, his thumb rubbing your clit as the feeling becomes unbearable. You’ve never done anything like this before.

Fuck.

You’ve never done anything.

“Take a deep breath…” Steve tells you. “This might hurt…” He warns, attempting to push two of his fingers inside of you, but of course, they don’t fit. Bucky’s cock already stretching you to the limit. “Fuck… So tight.” He groans, then forces the two fingers inside of you, making your hips jerk, a yelp coming from your lips which is quickly silenced by Bucky’s hand covering your throat as Steves fingers slowly move in and out of you, eventually adding a third finger as he stretches you open, Bucky’s soft lips on your neck distracting you as Steve moves closer, his free hand moving to stroke his shaft.

“Breathe for me baby…” He whispers again, this time his breath fanning over your skin as he positions himself between your legs, his hand between your bodies as he aligns the tip of his dick with your filled centre. “Just breathe…” He tells you one more time, then he slowly pushes forward, barely getting in the tip before the mix of a moan and scream come muffled behind Bucky’s palm, but Steve doesn’t stop. He keeps pushing. And he pushes until he can’t anymore.

“Told you she could fit us both.” Bucky mumbles, and Steve begins to slowly move. Your sounds are still muffled by the hand over your mouth, which quickly turns from painful moans to pleasurable crying. “And she’s behaving so well…” He groans, the feeling of Steve's cock moving against his driving him crazy.

Steve moves faster, his hands squeezing your thighs, and their groans indicate they’re both holding back. Steve's rough touch, and Bucky’s biting and kissing your skin as your moans fill the room. Loud enough you’re surprised no one else could hear.

“So fucking perfect…”

“Such a perfect little pussy…”

“Love the little sounds she makes…”

“Isn’t she perfect?”

All fall on your deft ears, your brain ringing, your eyes trying to close as your energy leaves your body. You couldn’t think about anything.

The lips of Bucky on your skin and the feeling of Stevies cock moving inside of you, along with the feeling of Bucky’s cock being right beside his was enough to make your pupils turn your eyes black, the moans stopping and your body convulsing under Steve and above Bucky as you’re about to come again. It was the fifth time this night, or maybe sixth? You didn’t know anymore, you’d lost track of them after the second.

When they are done, Steve pulls out first, followed by Bucky, both of them watching as a string of cum drops from your stretched hole, Steve's fingers moving to gently push it back inside of you before cleaning his fingers with your lips.

“You did so good…” He tells you, but you hardly hear it as your body struggles to stay awake.

“She did amazing…” Bucky tells him from behind as his fingers begin to gently massage your thighs. “So good we don’t have to report her…”

“You look tired…” Steve gently pushes some of the mess of your hair behind your ear. An act that was innocent before but now felt like it would always be hidden behind some dark intent. “Too bad we aren’t done…”

[slttygeto]

THINK I FORGOT, HOW TO BE HAPPY.

⤷ what was I made for? | something i’m made for

જ⁀➴ synopsis: after hanging out with Suguru's friends, you head home and can't wait to bury it down like you always do. But when your boyfriend insists on knowing what upset you, the night takes a turn for the worst.

જ⁀➴ word count: 2,8k

જ⁀➴ content warning: fem!reader, hurt/no comofrt, angst, fights, suguru is a little mean and says mean shit but reader isn’t any better.

જ⁀➴ note: sorry for the long wait, i'm struggling to work on many things at once. but a huge thank you for showing the first part so much love! it was truly unexpected.

ʚ⁺˖ ⤷ tag list: @error404-tryagain @fiannee @anarosextodo @ayeputita (couldn't tag everyone for some reason, my bad!)

⤷ comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

Suguru remembers when he first fell in love with you, how his face felt warm when you wrapped your arms around him and told him to have a safe trip, the little bag of goodies you had prepared for him sitting atop of his suitcase. He remembers pulling you into a deep kiss in the middle of a crowded airport, and he wasn’t a huge fan of PDA, has never been—but something about you caring for him, preparing food for his flight and showing up as he was about to board made his heart leap out of his chest.

Your first I love you to each other was shared when you realized you couldn’t handle being away from each other for longer than a day. You move in together shortly after he returns from his travel.

You don’t remember when you started to feel out of place, but it makes its way up and towards the back of your head like a parasite—your emotions were always too much for anyone to handle. You recently had a breakdown over messing up at work, and you’ve never seen Suguru look more lost than when he tried to comfort you. His eyebrows are furrowed in concern, he looks defeated when you refuse to let him touch or hug you. You were a mess, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

When you do calm down and are finally able to breathe properly, your brain flashes you little moments from your breakdown like a flashback—almost as though to shame and embarrass you for the way you behaved, all while your perfect boyfriend looks defeated at your lack of cooperation. You’re not sure if it is true, you hope that it’s not—but you see Suguru sit at the edge of the bed and bury his face in his hands and he curses under his breath. He looks tired.

It’s because of me.

When Suguru notices that your breakdowns become less frequent, he is convinced that you are slowly working towards getting better, praises and showers you with compliments. This is the Suguru you always want to see, full of life and love and not the one you saw that night.

And so you decide that from now on, Suguru wasn’t made to see you at your lowest.

--

Dinner ends an hour later and you almost run out of the restaurant and towards the car. Suguru is quick to join you, and from the corner of your eyes, you see Gojo standing near his car and his eyes are staring into your soul. You were grateful that he didn’t tell your boyfriend about the bathroom incident. You confided in the male at such a vulnerable moment and you would’ve been pretty upset if he went against your wishes.

You’re as quiet as ever as Suguru starts the car and drives away. You’re mindful of the way you sit not to face Suguru, and decide on letting him pick the songs to play on the way back. And your boyfriend doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re avoiding him like the plague, after all this wasn’t the first time you were eerily quiet on the way back home. But you were wrong.

Suguru watches you as you walk inside your shared apartment and remove your shoes. You’re not wearing any specific expression indicating that you might be upset. After all, you did have a habit of frowning as a resting face. But it feels different as you quietly greet your cat with a head pat, choosing to head to the kitchen first since you knew Suguru would go to the bathroom for a quick shower.

You were avoiding him.

“Did I do something?” Your boyfriend watches as you halt your movements, the glass of water in your hand long forgotten as you stare at him wide eyed, like a deer caught in headlights.

“Huh?”

“You’re avoiding me, did something happen?” Suguru tries to remember the night you spent outside. He has no clear memory of saying or doing something that you might’ve tipped you over the edge, so what was wrong? You were never this quiet.

“I’m fine, Sugu. You didn’t do anything.” The smile you flash him does anything but reassure him. You ignore the frown that sits on his face and you turn around, your back facing him as you try to busy yourself with something—anything, but facing the man you called your boyfriend.

“Then why are you acting so distant?” So he was able to pick up on it. You hoped that he wouldn’t be able to, maybe breaking up with him would be much easier that way. You are quiet as ever as you turn around and walk toward the fridge.

You were distant because Suguru wasn’t supposed to see you like this, he wasn’t supposed to know how much of an insecure mess you were when he was around, how you were desperately trying to get him to fall out of love. You can barely say I love you to him without feeling guilty about it. Did you truly deserve his love? It felt like he was wasting his time on someone as miserable as you.

“I am not distant, just tired.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, you were tired. You wanted to sleep so badly, wanted to drown the lingering thoughts of never feeling enough as Suguru’s girlfriend, but feeling whole and complete when you are yourself outside of your relationship. This was a you problem, and dragging Suguru down with you felt a little unfair.

“You were crying in the restaurant.” Your heart stills at this. “But you lied and said you were fine.”

“Did Satoru—“

“Satoru doesn’t know you better than I do.” His tone is sharp, and you’re taken aback by the harsh way he chooses to address you. Was this about to escalate into something else? You didn’t want it to, you didn’t have the energy to fight back and tell him to choose his tone carefully. You might’ve been the easy-going, kind girlfriend—but you weren’t going to tolerate disrespect from his part.

“You’re right, he doesn’t.” You sound almost defeated, and you put your glass in the sink before wiping your hands on the towel. Suguru stands near the kitchen island, and watches you with cat-like eyes. You were barely looking his way, the dark circles under your eyes prominent despite your effort at covering them up with make-up. When did Suguru start paying less attention to you? Or did you simply never allow him to see you like this, vulnerable and exhausted. His heart aches in his chest.

“So you won’t tell me?” You’re about to walk away when he decides to speak, and you heave out a long sigh when you realize that the night was taking a turn for the worst.

“Tell you what?” You mumble under your breath, and you refuse to meet Suguru’s cold eyes. You can feel them on your skin, they’re intense and trying to read you like a book. Perhaps if you don’t look his way, his stare would feel less intimidating.

“Would you please just stop?” Suguru rests his elbows on his the surface of the kitchen island, burying his face in his hands. “I’m really trying to figure out what’s wrong, and you’re not helping.”

“Maybe because I don’t want to tell you what’s wrong.” Your response comes out almost immediately, and the frustration you’ve been suppressing all night suddenly resurfaces. Months of trying to play it cool, sweeping your insecurities under the rug and hoping that a kiss from Suguru would fix all of your problems, it was all piling up into this huge bubble. And the more persistent your boyfriend was, the harder it was to stay quiet.

“What do you mean you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong?” Suguru’s voice is a little bit louder, and he’s almost in disbelief at your words. You were dating, you slept on the same bed, ate on the same table and cuddled on the same couch. You weren’t a girl he started dating last month, or a person he was testing out the waters with—you weren’t even a potential lifetime partner, but he was almost certain that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

“Because it’s useless to whine to you about shit you don’t need to know. My problems are mine, you don’t have to fix me.” You feel yourself shake a little the more you speak, your heart is beating fast at the realization that this was a conflict—you were creating a conflict and it felt suffocating.

“Fix you—who said I have to fix you?”

“Right, no one did—Suguru, just drop it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But I do.” His tone is sharp, and his hands are curled up in fists. His eyes are staring you down the same way he looks at strangers—threatening, cold and mean. You find yourself tearing up and it makes you feel stupid. You started this, you’re the one who doesn’t feel enough in the relationship—you’re the one being mean, and yet a single look from Suguru has you almost bursting into tears? Pathetic. You felt pathetic and weak, and the longer your boyfriend stared at you, the harder it was to maintain a normal breathing pattern.

“Suguru, I don’t want to talk about it.” You try again, and you hope that your voice doesn’t betray and breaks. Tonight has been exhausting enough, and the thought of having to speak up what has been on your mind for months now makes your chest feel incredibly tight.

“You’re being selfish.”

Selfish? You were being selfish?

You stare at Suguru in disbelief and he immediately realizes how badly he must’ve fucked up because the tears start falling down your cheeks almost instantly. You, who has been pushing her feelings to the side for the sake of his happiness, were selfish? You, who can’t even remember the last time you were truly happy about something, were selfish? This is bullshit.

“I’m selfish?” Your chin quivers pathetically, and Suguru is quick to reach a hand towards you to hold you, but you flinch away from his hold, arms wrapped you to give yourself the comfort Suguru wanted to give you.

“I am selfish, me?!” Your voice is getting louder, but you didn’t care. All the frustration, all the sadness and insecurities were all coming up to the surface because of one single comment.

“Baby, I didn’t—“

“Don’t call me that, don’t you fucking dare touch me!” You move away when he attempts to hold you. “I’m selfish because I don’t wanna tell my perfect boyfriend with his perfect personality about my shitty problems. That’s just fucking great, isn’t it?”

The last time Suguru saw you like this was months ago and he doesn’t even realize it until now. All those times where you would brush off something that would normally set you off, give him a tight lipped smile and tell him not to worry.

“Your problems aren’t shitty, you don’t even want to talk about them!”

“Because every time I tried, it felt like I was robbing you of your fucking happiness, Suguru!” Your voice is loud. “Every time I realized that my mood was ruined, I could only think of how you must be fed up with me.”

“But I’m not? I never even said that I was fed up!” Suguru’s body language completely changes, and suddenly he’s not even trying to comfort you. More so understand where all of this was coming from.

“Your face says it all and fuck--” You groan into your face, your cheeks flushed from frustration.

“Oh so now it’s my face?” You raise your head to stare at him. “One moment you’re saying it’s how I behave, but now it’s all in my face?”

“You’re missing the whole point, Suguru—“

“No, I’m not missing anything! You are the one who created this situation, you’re the one who decided to pull away!” Each word feels like a knife being stabbed into your heart. You stare at the man who usually gives you warm, sweet smiles and all of that is replaced with a cold angry look.

“Suguru—“

“Selfish. Yeah, actually I don’t take it back. You are selfish,”

“Stop.” your lips quivers.

“Because if you actually wanted this to work out, you would tell me what’s wrong instead of finding excuses.”

“You’re being mean, Sugu.”  

Your boyfriend groans out of frustration and leans against the kitchen counter. You stand still next to the fridge, tears streaming down your face. You try to stop and wipe them away, but it feels as though you really needed this more than anything.

“I want to take a break.” You say quietly and Suguru’s head snaps up almost immediately.

“What?”

“I want to take a break from this—from you, I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

Instead of giving you a proper reply, Suguru storms out of the kitchen and grabs his jacket and car keys and is out of the house in less than a minute. You are frozen in your spot as you let the words you just uttered out loud sink in, and there’s a sense of guilt. You are pulling away from your relationship, you’re willingly taking a break and not looking back, but does it matter anymore?

This was by far your biggest fight with your boyfriend, and the way he stormed out at the mention of taking a break makes you want to crawl in a hole and die. But not anymore.

You can’t even remember the last time you were happy, and for it to go on for so long was so draining and tiring. You could barely recognize yourself anymore. Your feet take you towards your shared bedroom with Suguru and you start packing some of your stuff. Whether he agrees to the break or not is not important, because you were doing this for yourself. And if Suguru truly cared about you, he would let you do what is best for you.

--

Suguru didn’t know where he was going, he just wanted to get away from you and as soon as possible. The roads are empty, and he isn’t driving recklessly. In fact, he’s probably driving so slowly that it would look suspicious to anyone on the outside.

He parks the car on the side of the road and rests his forehead on the steering wheel. When did it turn into this? When did he become so absorbed in his personal life that he stopped including you or care for you? Suguru doesn’t want to blame himself, but it’s a little difficult. He thought he was living this picture perfect life with you, under one roof with a single pet and future plans ahead of you. But to fuck up this badly and call you selfish simply because you were struggling on your own was horrible.

And to make things worse, he stormed out of the house and left you there all alone. He groans into his hands.

“Fuck.” He wants to fix this. He doesn’t want a break, he doesn’t think that it’s necessary. But you looked serious about it, maybe he could talk you out of it.

He grabs his phone and dials your number, and when it takes a while for you to pick up he just knows that you must’ve been contemplating whether or not you wanted to take the call. Eventually, you do answer.

“I’m sorry,” the line on your side is quiet, so he continues. “I fucked up, I don’t think I should’ve said what I said and—“

“It’s not your fault.” Your nose is stuffed, but Suguru can tell from the tone of your voice that you were tired. “But I need some space, Suguru.”

Some space… So you were considering the break.

“We can work it out, we don’t have to take a break or anything, we can go on a date tomorrow morning and—“

“I called a cab, I’m going back to my place.” You cut him off, and Suguru hears you lock the door to his apartment. “I’m doing this for myself and for us,” Suguru closes his eyes when he realizes that there was truly no hope in talking you out of it.

“Okay… can I still text you?”

“No,” you reply quietly. “I don’t wanna think about you for a while.” He tries not to feel hurt but it’s difficult.

“I understand.” The line goes quiet for a while, and Suguru hears a few sniffles from your side and sighs.

“We’ll be okay, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You wipe a few tears. “I have to go now.”

“I love you.” Suguru waits for a response, and when you take too long to answer, his chest tightens a little.

“Take care, Sugu.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

[aflamethatneverdies]

Sarah, a five-year-old girl, has not yet completed Kg1.

She takes great pride in her appearance and enjoys taking care of her clothing. She often refers to herself as the "queen of the house."

Sarah has a passion for fashion and enjoys playing with dolls and electronic games related to the subject.

She misses her friends and kindergarten and is eager to learn and experience all that life has to offer.

Sarah deserves the opportunity to learn and grow in a safe and peaceful environment. Her house was bombed and partially destroyed.

She's really scared and can't bear to see pictures of her home like this.

She's heartbroken about her toys and her beautiful room, which were destroyed in the bombing.

I want her to live safely and peacefully like other children.

Any support, regardless of its magnitude, would be greatly appreciated.

Even a modest contribution can have a significant impact on my family's circumstances.

https://gofund.me/345e1bc0

This is a verified fundraiser, #236 on @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi's spreadsheet

Currently they have only raised $7,134CAD of the $48,000 goal. Their campaign is going very slowly and they haven't even been able to raise half the funds they need despite the gofundme being started several months ago.

Please donate to this family if you have the means. Israa's father is sick and suffers from heart disease and little Sarah deserves to live her childhood. Israa needs our help evacuating her father, mother, her brother who was injured, and her sister and her husband and their family of three children, to Canada where her other brother resides.

Palestinian families in Gaza have no source of income and rely on gofundmes to support themselves. Please donate and help them survive and evacuate from Gaza, it has been 346 days of relentless genocide. Also follow @sarah-family for updates.

Tagging for reach, please let me know if you'd like to be removed, thanks! @timetravellingkitty @mazzikah @komsomolka @ethanscrocs

[malcriada]

TIME SENSITIVE, PLEASE HELP BILAL

We want to extend our deepest gratitude and thanks to all the people who came out in support of Bilal‘s campaign and shared and donated. 

I‘m really happy to announce that not only have some of the funds raised benefitted his family in Gaza, but it has also helped Bilal find a new place to stay, away from his terrible ex-employer and landlord, and has enabled him to extend his residency for another month. He  is no longer at risk of deportation right now. It’s only thanks to your incredible support that all this was possible.

But despite all these good news, we need your help again. 

There is currently no option to transfer funds from Germany to Gaza, as bank transfers to Gaza are being blocked by the German government. This means Bilal has to first transfer the funds to a bank in another country, and then from there to Gaza. The funds currently take a very long time to reach his family, and require Bilal to pay a high fee for the transfer as well. 

On top of that, his ex-employer and landlord had extorted a large sum (€4800) from Bilal – a sum he claimed he still owed him from the time he was employed under him. With no other source of income at the time, Bilal saw no choice but to pay it using some of the money from the campaign. 

Bilal feels extremely conflicted to be asking for help so soon again after reaching his last goal. But he unfortunately sees no other option due to the aforementioned problems. 

We need your help in fighting the repression from the German government and also making sure that the funds you helped Bilal raise also reach his family in full. 

This is why we need to raise €8,850 by the 15th of September i.e within the next 2 weeks. he currently has raised €101,150 of €110,000

This amount will help make up for the funds that were extorted from him by his landlord and help him pay the fees for multiple international bank transfers.

Please help Bilal reach his goal in time. You have gotten him this far, please don't let him down now. his campaign has been verified and can be found on @/el-shab-hussein’s and @/nabulsi’s list of vetted fundraisers here (#132, line 136) so PLEASE don't hesitate to share and donate.

[ID: a gfm link with a picture of two small children sitting in the sand in front of a cooking pot. they are looking up a the camera, eyes half-closed. the title reads "Donate to Help Evacuate My Family from Gaza to Safety, organized by Bilal salah" End ID] tagging for reach under the cut, please let me know if you'd like to be removed:

@timetravellingkitty @deathlonging @briarhips @dirhwangdaseul @mahoushojoe

@rhubarbspring @schoolhater @pcktknife @transmutationisms @sawasawako

@feluka @birabiroo @irhabiya @commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria

@deepspaceboytoy @post-brahminism @khanger @evillesbianvillain @neechees

@mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @jezior0 @7bitter @tortiefrancis

@toiletpotato @fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @tododeku-or-bust

@aristotels @komsomolka @xinakwans @heritageposts @nibeul

@ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @lonniemachin @dykesbat

@watermotif @stuckinapril @mavigator @lacecap @yugiohz

@socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @northgazaupdates2

@vakarians-babe @wayneradiotv @paper-mario-wiki @rthko @decolonize-the-everything

@velvetys @3000s @punkitt-is-here @ghelgheli @feluka

@cruzwalters @yugiohz @akajustmerry @shesnake @tamamita

@opencommunion

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Good to be Back | Cooper Adams/Abbott x F!Reader

Synopsis: You have lived across from the Adams' for what feels like ever, since you started your bachelor's degree. You notice Rachel's car peeling out of the driveway with such force it causing the ground to shake. Before you could escape back into your home, your eyes connect with Cooper's. "Care for a drink?"

Warnings: Language, Infidelity, Rough Sex, Bondage, Oral F!Receiving, Oral M! Receiving, PIV sex, Implied Age Gap (legal), Mention of Disappearances, Spanking, Choking, Daddy Kink (Heavy), F!Reader, Mentions of The Butcher

Rating: M

Author's Note: Fandom hopper oh my god...but I cannot stop thinking about Cooper Adams!!

Word Count: 5K

Tagging Moots: @rubyfruitjungle @babygorewhore @cherryinterlude @vamplreslayer (If you do want to be tagged going forth, please let me know! If not, I can remove you! (: )

If you would like to be tagged for my fics, please fill this out

Invisible. The notion itself holds mystery. One not being seen by the world, but observing all of the tactics. It's the equivalent of being a ghost, or a fly on the wall; taking in every moment, every conversation. It can be useful, but also can be deadly. One small slip up and it was forever embedded in the air. There was no way to escape the truth when it slipped through intoxicated mouths - or fake bodies. But there is a perk to knowing everyone's dirt. Easy to manipulate, and easy to interject.

That is how your next door neighbor is, but you have no idea.

It has been so long since you were last home, God it must have been an eternity. After graduation you wanted - no needed - to get away. Something about being stuck in Philly made you ill. When the opportunity arose to get the fuck out you hopped ship faster than you were brought into this world. The freedom, independence; sights to see and a life of adventure to live. You thought that is how it would be, you were wrong.

College life wasn't as everyone made it out to be. You should've known it was bullshit from when you first stepped on campus, your roommate fucking some random on your bed. It set the entire tone, first it was your bed getting defiled, then it was your desk. Before you could even process what was happening, your life took a complete turn. That one frat party.

That's a moment you hate remembering. It was fun but the aftermath was scary enough. You were always warned about frat parties, what could arise. But being a young, naïve student you had everything stacked against you. This didn't even happen in your freshman year, but your senior. Every time these guys were throwing a shindig you found yourself buried in schoolwork - wanting nothing more than to let these dude’s fuck off. With your final year coming into play you wanted to branch out, though you wished you hadn't.

The party was fuzzy, all you remember was what you were told. But it happened so quickly - one day you're a wallflower and the next, the talk of campus. Eyes burned holes into your soul with every step you took, every glance was directed at you. You couldn't handle it. Something needed to happen, you begged to whoever was listening to give these guys the revenge they deserved. The things that they did, what was said - someone needed to take them down. In fact it only took a week, and your prayers were answered.

It was freeing, hearing around campus how those four dude’s just disappeared. Poof, out of existence. The matter was dropped; life was normal again. Curiosity got the best of you when you heard their names, exactly who did you wish to for this to happen? Like everything else in life it all slips away, becoming of the past. Life ticked on with its duties - you couldn't let go. From the beginning to the end everything went by quickly; a college graduate and ready to take on the world.

Graduating was suppose to mean getting your dream job, working in the field that you loved - but everything took time. As you packed up your car with the memories of the last four years, you couldn't help but reminisce. Four years worth of memories and mistakes, tucked away in the cheapest cardboard boxes. Why did life have to change so much when you were just getting comfortable again? Although you will miss college it was a good riddance, now you could prep yourself for the world.

It wasn't ideal to head back to your hometown but, it was needed. Your family hasn’t seen you in a while, plus job searching is better when you don't have to pay for room and board, especially in this economy. The four hour drive felt like an hour, tunes blasting through the car as you head back into the vortex. Your hometown felt like it was a time warp, one giant forcefield keeping everyone and everything in. Breaching that meant coming to terms that you, as well, might be stuck. Only for a few months, that's it.

As you turned down your old street, it felt like something straight out of a movie - it looked fake. Perfect houses with perfect families, this was some Truman show shit if you have ever seen it. Before you could get wrapped up in conspiracies, you saw your home - smiling softly as you rounded the corner. Pulling into the driveway there was a heavy shroud on your chest - things were out of place. Fixating on the note from the garage door you saw only a glimmer of what it said:

Going to be out of town for a month for our retirement trip. Love you, be safe!

“Great”, you thought. Just when you wanted to see your family they were gone. There was something naughty about having the house all to yourself, not worrying about anyone barging in. A smirk spread across your lips whilst shutting your car off, wrapping your lanyard in your palm. Breaking you out of your thoughts was the door slamming, screaming followed behind. It was instinctual to not be nosy, but let's face it. As you slid out of the driver's seat, you slowly reached for the backdoor - peering over to see who exactly was yelling. For a split second you caught the image of a man and woman yelling at one another while a boy and a girl sat in the backseat. Cocking an eyebrow, you leaned forward a bit more to peer out your back window.

Cooper Adams and his wife Rachel were exchanging some very colorful words, your eyes shot wide open at their argument. It felt wrong to listen in, but they didn't have to know. You bit your top lip in anticipation of what he would say next, but before the argument could officially commence, Rachel was slamming the driver’s door - and speeding so fast out of the driveway it left marks across yours. Seeing how close the car got to you made you jump, smacking your head against the roof of the car. Backing out you rubbed the swollen top, holding back tears.

Peering across the street, Cooper ran his hands through his brown locks - tugging hard. There was something sexy about how mad he was, frustrated even - but it hurt your heart. You've known Cooper since you were in college, considering that's when he moved here. All you knew was that he was a firefighter - nothing more and nothing less. There were a few occasions when you found yourself looking for the fire department’s calendars – for research purposes. Mr. October happened to be your favorite. Cooper’s gaze caught yours, showing a bit of embarrassment. He didn't think anyone was around to see what happened. Giving him a sweet wave, you smiled small in condolence at what you witnessed. He didn't return your gesture, remained at the end of your driveway - his hands fixated on his hips. "I'm sorry you had to witness that."

His words pierced deep, something about the low tone sent sparks through your body. The way his broad shoulders squared up to yours. His fucking stance in itself made you want to drop. Those impure thoughts flew through your mind as he stared at the ground, awaiting your response. Catching on you shook your head, leaning back against your car. "Don't be sorry, are you okay?" Cooper saw this as an invitation to move forward, his hands in his front pockets. When he was in front of you, he couldn't look in your eyes - instead focusing on his home. The way he held himself was strict, he was so tense all the time. It was understandable with the line of work he did but this was different, he was frustrated. "I'll be okay - back from school so soon?"

He changed the subject as fast as he sauntered over to you, not wanting to focus on the negative. You shot Cooper a smile as you held your house key from your lanyard, motioning to your car filled with boxes. "I'm officially done, graduated last week." This was the first time you saw Cooper smile since you've been home - heat rushing to your cheeks. In a way you felt as if he was reading you, browsing through your entire life story off of one sentence. Lost in your own train of thought you didn't realize how close he got, his shoulders parallel to yours - boxing you in. His right hand placed on top of the roof, dangerously close to your head. Swallowing down every ounce of dignity you had. His russet brown eyes poured over every inch of you, tracing you through the clothing.

"Congratulations, I hope you got spoiled for that big accomplishment." Honey, that was the best way to describe his tone. Molasses and honey flowing in a splendid river, drowning you with every syllable. His musk - fennel and pine radiating off of him made your stomach flip, muscles contracting. You had no control over your body anymore, it was like a flip was switched. You watched as Cooper trailed his left hand over your arm, dragging his nails against the grain. His right hand fell to your neck, fingers resting at the base whilst his thumb rubbing circles by your throat. With a hard grasp, he pulled you forward - inches away from your face. "Did you get spoiled, sweetheart?”

Words could not form, no matter how hard you tried to muster them out. All you could do was shake your head as a form of no. Both of your hands fell slack to your sides, growing clammy by the second. Cooper was not happy with your answer, pouting playfully as he dug his thumb harder against your neck, causing your breath to hitch. It was a huge accomplishment, but you didn't want people to go out of their way to celebrate it. So, after you went to commencement you had a small lunch with your close family, then went back to your off campus apartment. Nothing too out there, enough to satisfy you. "Will you let me spoil you, and be a good girl?" His words made you weaker, slumping slightly into his touch. You couldn't shake the fight you saw earlier, how angry they both were. This was proof Cooper needed to blow off steam but, you felt guilty. A married man, father of two - you didn't want to intervene. "Baby, I'm getting divorced - that's what the fight was about."

That was enough for you to lean up to his lips, pressing your body flush against his. There was something about being out in the open for everyone to see that made your body burn hotter. There was a chance you could be caught by anyone. Cooper felt it too, but it was too good to stop, you were too intoxicating. His large, calloused hands slid across your lower back to drape around your ass, cupping it like it was the last thing his hands would ever do. Entangled in the pleasure you let a hearty moan slip from your mouth to his, the bulge pressing harder against your thigh. Delicate hands laced their way to the back of Cooper’s neck, scratching over the tender skin. He licked at your bottom lip, begging for entrance. Obeying his silent command you parted your lips, bringing your left leg up higher to lace around his waist.

The taste of whipped cream on his breath drove you mad, his scent lingering in your nostrils as he passionately kissed you - growing harder with each motion. You couldn't handle it anymore as you grinded down against his bulge, lightning shooting through your core. Cooper’s hand slid from your throat to the base of your neck, tangling his fingers in your soft strands. With a single twist of his hand, he yanked your hair back - making you gaze into his eyes. A devilish smirk rested upon his lips, swollen from how hard he made out with you. A small whimper left your mouth, tiny enough to show you turned on you were by his actions. The hand that was once secured to your side pulled your keys out, waving the lanyard in your face. "Lead the way." He smirked, draping the lanyard down the valley of your breast - watching your shudder at the feeling.

You reached up to snatch your keys away, swaying your hips as you headed for the front door. Cooper sat back to watch how your ass shook with every step, wanting to take you right then and there on the lawn. Bringing his hand down he began to palm himself, trying to relieve some of the tension his cock was holding. Out of the corner of your eye you could see it too - causing your core to ignite. To tease him further you arched your back - pushing your ass out enough to wiggle it as you slid your key in. When you least expected it, the hard crack of Cooper’s hand came down across your backside; you swore it echoed through the neighborhood.

The yelp that left your mouth was masked with Cooper’s hand, gripping at your face so hard you felt it against your teeth. Without any more effort you spun the doorknob to the left, kicking it open. Cooper ushered you inside with haste, the hard oak door slamming into its respected slot. You have never seen a man be this passionate, this rough - it made you ache all over. Standing in the foyer of your home, you gulped as you watched Cooper’s eyes blacken. There wasn't an immediate danger lurking between you both, but it felt like it - he looked as if he was going to snap. Biting hard on your first finger, you tried to jet away towards your room - to not avail. It was like Cooper read your mind - knowing exactly what you were going to do. "Now princess, where the hell do you think you're going?"

His large, calloused hand came down on your right wrist - yanking it behind your body as you pushed you into the wall separating the kitchen from the dining room. You could hear the metallic clank of his belt coming undone, groaning at the sound. Prepping yourself for the feeling of his hardened cock against your thigh, you slid your ass out a bit more - only to earn a hearty smack to the reddened flesh. "Fucking Christ, you enjoy being a brat?" The sinister smirk on his lips sent sparkles through your eyes, hearing just how lust filled he was becoming. The cold, smooth leather of his belt slid against your wrist. With a rough tug, Cooper slid your left wrist into the makeshift cuffs - cranking the end of the belt back so your hands were snug. As his fingers left your leather-clad wrists, Cooper came up to lace his fingers through your hair - ever so gently pulling you back to his mouth. His musk invaded your senses as his free hand trailed down your front - paying the softest attention to your throat. You couldn't help but slide your eyes closed at the feeling, wanting more.

Taking you out of your moment was your body being forced away from the wall, pushing you along until you were face to face with the marble countertop. This was new, must have been one of the new renovations. There was a second where Cooper completely let go of you, watching as you stood eyes forward - not daring to look back. The anticipating was killing you; you needed his touch. Sweat slid down your brow as you tried to shake your hair out of your face, letting your heart calm for a minute. The warm grasp of Cooper Adams returned but, in a harsher way. He didn't warn you when he yanked your shorts down, pooling them around your ankles. Without being told you kicked them off, wanting them far away. The cold air of your home ran through the heat produced between your legs, never realizing your panties were discarded as well.

Lost in the thought of how your core ached, Cooper had the advantage - tossing you up onto the new countertop, legs spread wide open. "Is my good girl aching for me?" You couldn't help but chew on your lip at his words, the praise shocking your cunt. Nodding gently, you batted your eyelashes in his direction - watching as his drank up your appearance. His fingertips returned to your thighs, pushing hard into the skin - knowing it was going to bruise tomorrow. Slowly he massaged his fingers upwards, draping them over your inner thighs - ghosting over your hot cunt. It was driving you mad, you needed - wanted his touch, his mouth, his everything.

The bucking of your hips into his hand only caused the fury to set itself onto Cooper, his eyes narrowing to your face. Slamming his right hand onto the countertop next to your thigh, he reached forward with his left to grip at your neck, pulling you fast towards him. "Words, use your words." Your pupils were blown out, no color except black showed. The way your expression held lust only made Cooper grow harder - wanting you more than anything. "Y-yes, Daddy." The name came out with a smirk, eyeing him up and down. Cooper’s grip on your neck got tighter, pressing his plump lips flush against yours. The heat of the kiss made you moan into his mouth, wanting him to know what effect he had on you. As the kiss got deeper he slid his hands away, unbuckling the cuffs on his shirt as he dragged the long sleeve's back, exposing his forearms. Cooper trailed his hands down to his slacks, pulling them off with ease - brief's following right behind. The slap of his erect cock against his stomach made you moan, eyes widening at his size.

"Daddy, y-you're so big..." You couldn't help but stare at his length, the wetness of your core seeping down to the counter. He would break you, split you in half - he will be the biggest cock you have ever taken. There was something ignited in Cooper when your eyes cascaded over his length, his ego growing - knowing he was big. Hearing you say it only made him ache harder. Licking his lips as he pulls back from your mouth, he pulled your ass to the edge of the counter - leaving sloppy kisses on your inner thighs, red marks littering the soft skin. With your hands pressing into your back, all you could do was whimper to Cooper - puppy dog eyes boring into his. "I need you to be loud for Daddy, okay? Don't hold back."

Obeying Cooper’s command, you braced yourself as his hot tongue slid up your seam - flat against your slit. The feeling in itself made you want to jump, stuttering your hips into his mouth. Cooper did not like that, pinning your hips down to the counter with his massive hands. He made sure to never leave your eyes, especially as he bit right where the crease of your pelvis met your thigh - tugging at the skin. You could feel your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he dove back into your steaming cunt, lapping at your arousal. Cooper was a pussy eating champ, you fucking knew it just by how he sucked your clit - rolling it in between his teeth and lips. The attention he was paying your nerve bundle made your whole body flop. You couldn't moan, no - screams were leaving your throat. Each swipe of his long tongue had you falling apart - enough to where Cooper slammed you back down onto the counter. The grunt he let out into your cunt made your orgasm approach quickly. Bucking your hips up, you let a string of whimpers slide out, signaling how close you were. "C-Coop… I-I-I'm gonna...."

"What did you just call me?" Cooper pulled his head back from your thighs, your essence glistening upon his lips. One of his eyebrows cocked in your direction, rubbing little circles into your hips. It was painful how fast your orgasm approached, but not letting it burst. The torture Cooper was pushing onto you made you want to cry. You could help but grind your hips against the air - hoping to at least reach that point you once were at. "Brats don't get to come." He tsked into your ear, biting on your lobe. You couldn't help but pout as you strained yourself, wanting something to help take you to the brink. "D-Daddy please...I-I need your mouth."

Cooper pulled you off of the counter, shaking his head at you. The tears swelling in the corner of your eyes made him soften for a moment, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. Even though he was dominating you in everyway you needed, he didn't want to push you into something you may not have wanted. With a stray tear that fell, he made sure to kiss it away - peppering sweet kisses all over your face. Rubbing into his lips, you licked yours - lowering yourself to your knees. Lurching forward you returned his kisses to his hips, thighs and lower stomach - making sure to never break eye contact. "L-Let me make it up to you, Daddy."

Before you could let Cooper respond, you licked one singular line up his shaft - watching at his thick length twitched against your lips. As you came to the top you let your tongue swirl over his swollen tip - lapping up his precum. Cooper couldn't help but slam his eyes shut - wrapping his fingers in your hair to make a ponytail. Opening your mouth all the way, you let Cooper position your mouth over his tip. Nodding in anticipation, Cooper slammed your mouth down onto him - taking him fully in. It was way too much for your to grasp - choking slightly on the girth of him. Tears spilled from the corners of your eyes as you hollowed your cheeks out - suctioning tightly around him. "Oh fuck, princess..." He tossed his head back as he moaned out, jetting his hips back into your face.

This was a new sensation for you, never ever being face fucked. With Cooper it felt so natural, your undying hunger strengthened with every thrust. The way his tip slid against the back of your throat made the butterflies in your stomach erupt. You couldn't handle it anymore, feeling your wetness sliding down your weakened thighs. With every bob of your head against Cooper’s cock it shot electricity through your nerves, wanting him more than anything. Through tearful eyes you watched his expression - how his forehead scrunched up, his bottom lip pulled taut between his teeth. He was trying so hard to suppress his moans for you, but it was sexier hearing them. Lightly you dragged your teeth up his shaft, causing him to pan his eyes back down at you. Cooper humped himself into your face with such aggression it made you gag more, spit dripping from your mouth over your clothed chest. As you clamped your eyes shut to breathe through your nose, you felt how his hips stuttered - shooting his creamy rope right down your throat. With weakened thrusts, he slowly started to ease out of you, rubbing his thumb over your wet chin. "Such a good little princess for Daddy, you did a great job." He cooed, placing a kiss to your forehead. The praise shot right into your cunt.

"Now it's Daddy's turn - I want you to cum on my cock. Can princess do that for me?" The eagerness to your nod made Cooper laugh at how adorable it was, helping you up to your feet. As he spun you around like the princess you are, he pressed your face into the cold countertop - it felt so good on your warm cheeks. The feeling of his toned legs kicking your open made you squirm, arching your back ever so slightly for him. Cooper leaned forward, pressing his lips to your shoulder as his cock slides between your folds, gathering your wetness on his shaft. The way he pressed his tip into your clit had you moaning out ripples, it couldn't - no - wouldn't stop. Each slow thrust of his hips caused your body to jolt, not even fully given in yet. Just then, with a snap of his hips - he sheathed his thick cock inside your wet heat. The scream you let out was enough to break the wine glasses sitting on the countertop - it felt so fucking good!

"I bet those college boys couldn't fuck you like Daddy can. Am I right princess?" He didn't give you time to adjust as he plowed into you from behind, scratching his way to your shoulder and back. The pain mixing with pleasure made you rock your entire body against him - wanting to hold and caress his form. Your wrists writhed against the leather belt, still bound from earlier. Cooper saw you struggling - taking that as his cue to release your hands. The way they flopped to your side felt unreal as he demolished your pussy. Gaining your strength back, you pressed against the countertop, pushing your hips back to meet Cooper’s thrust. "N-never, y-y-you fuck me way better, Daddy. I-I can't get enough of your b-big cock!"

Your words had Cooper laughing sinisterly - lust lacing his tone. It became too much to deal with, his dirty words flowing through your brain as his cock hit that spongy spot within you. From the way you were angled you could feel everything. The way his tip punched your cervix without a care, how your walls tightened around his girthy shaft. How with every thrust you felt your entire body come undone. Nothing in life brought you as much bliss as Cooper was, this was your whole world. You have been fantasizing about Mr. Adams ever since you first laid your eyes upon him. Now you had him where you needed, and you were never going to lay off. "Princess, I-I'm gonna-" Before Cooper could finish his sentence, he was coming undone within you. Ropes of his sweet seed painting your walls - this is when you were thankful for having an implanted contraceptive. Feeling his seed shooting in you was enough for your orgasm to spray - drenching his cock with so much force. The moans, groans and whimpers slipping from yourself and Cooper echoed throughout your vacant home - this was the best day of your life.

Cooper pulled out of you with ease, rubbing his gentle fingers across your behind. Every stroke made you weak, feeling like jelly under his grasp. Pulling you upwards to his chest, he swept you up bridal style as he made his way to your living room, seeing the new conversation pit your parents had installed. It was essentially like a giant bed with seats, causing you to laugh lightly into Cooper’s chest. As he stepped down the stairs, he pulled blanket from one of the seats over you both, pulling you closer to him. Turning around to face him, you wrapped your left leg over his, rubbing small circles into the stubble lining his chin. The moment was perfect, too perfect. The way Cooper looked at you with so much admiration and love, made your entire soul flutter. "It was me." He mumbled out, looking at you with no emotion to his words. It was like his body was taken over by an unseen force, his hand going ridged against your side. "What was you?"

He let out a gentle sigh, chewing on the inside of his cheek, never leaving your gaze. He was debating heavily if he should tell you, or leave it alone. But it felt wrong to not let you know. He slid his hand to cup your cheek, kissing you as soft as silk - lingering over your swollen lips. His large hand cupping your back as well, drawing patterns with his thumb as he let those forbidden words out; "Those guys at the frat party, I made them disappear." His words make you go stiff, eyes widening as you realize what he did. The ones who hurt you, who humiliated you earlier last year - Cooper disposed of them. Your breath grew more erratic as you realized what was going on, there was only one question flowing through your brain. "Did you...did you kill them?" It was weird, you should've felt afraid - but you felt the opposite, safe and sound within Cooper Adams’ arms.

"Yes, for you. They were going to get away with what they did to you, and I didn't want that to happen. I wanted them to feel the fear you did. I wanted them to feel the way they made you feel, I only want to protect you from the evil this world holds." Little did you know, Cooper was the evil this world held. He was after all, The Butcher.

[dcandmarvelimagines]

sweeter than you ever knew. (pt. 3)

Series: pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 Pairing: Wade Wilson x Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader Rating: Mature Word Count: 3.8k Warnings: AFAB reader (uses she/her pronouns), 1st person POV, non-mutant Reader, canon typical violence (mostly all off screen), descriptions of dead/dismembered bodies, reader is injured (leg injury and slapped), the kidnapper emotionally manipulates the reader, on page murder. Author's note: Thank you so much for all the support it's been crazy!!! This chapter is a bit intense, I'm not going to lie. We just need to hold hands and get through this. But I swear, the next part of this will be sooo tooth rottingly sweet. It's so long that I actually had to make this five parts lmao. I could not stop with the comfort and softness. ao3 Tags (if you would like to be included or removed, just let me know. If I forgot someone I'm so sorry!!): @fallout-girl219 @xolosimp @o0aligoth0o  @thedevilsaysthings @jaeyuni @redmitsuru5 @jeffs77 @spideybv28 @trumanbluee @jennapearce13 @chxrrybomb22 @7soulstars @what-the-jams @lostinheavensworld @purplestars222 @movieat @whiskeyghoul @paintballkid711 @unmotivated-artist164 @sun7lowxr @minniekitties @ceobuggy @amararoseblog @harryshousewhore

The first thing I felt was rough rope as it scraped against my skin. I worked my eyes open, the task feeling too great. I was strapped to an old chair. Nausea swirled in my head as I tried to take in my surroundings. It was a plain, nondescript gray room. The walls were concrete. In the middle of the room, directly in front of me, was a large iron door. It looked like something you would find in a bomb shelter. Around my chair were shafts of moonlight provided by a skylight above. There was a bite in the air that made me shiver. My breathing was uneven as I weakly struggled against the ropes. 

“I see you’re awake. Wonderful.” The man with ice cold eyes appeared from the corner of my vision, a folder in his hand. “I don’t want to waste either of our time.” He lugged a metal chair in front of me and I cringed at the horrible screech as it echoed around the room. “Where is Wade Wilson and Logan Howlett?” I blinked, my brain foggy. 

“I don't know who those people are.” The man tsked. There was a flash of anger across his calm face before it was replaced by cool indifference. 

“Bullshit, we see you coming in and out of their apartment.” My stomach churned, either from whatever they shot me with or from the creeping anxiety.

“Oh you mean Al’s roommates? I work for social services for her. I don’t know anything about them.” The man grinned. It was vicious and predatory. 

“You are a bad liar.”He sat on the chair, crossing one leg over the other. “Why do we have photos of you with both men? What? One not enough for you?” He flicked open the folder and pulled out two pictures. One was of Logan and I on the fire escape. It had been captured at the perfect moment to have clear shots of our profiles in it. The other was of Wade and I at the bar. No, not just the bar, the bathroom. I was half exposed, Wade’s face against my bare breast. The woman who interrupted us had worked for him. Now I was actually going to throw up. I had been followed for months at this point. “Now, I’m going to ask again. Where are they?” 

“They don’t tell me about their jobs, I swear. Please just let me go.” The man shook his head with a hum, sounding like a disappointed teacher, sliding the photos back into the folder. 

“I’ll leave you here for a couple days, see if that jogs your memory.” Days? 

“Wait no! Please!” But he had already disappeared through the metal door. In the doorway, I saw a woman waiting. I blinked in shock. The woman, the one from the dingy bar bathroom. She was the one who had taken our picture.  My kidnapper nodded at her before the heavy door thudded shut. Days did pass, the skylight allowing me to count by the motion of the sun. My body soon grew stiff and achy as I sat on the chair. I wanted to sleep, anything to pass the time, but I wasn’t able to calm my mind enough. The shadow of the woman never moved from the small window. I could feel her watching me, my arm hair standing up at the feeling. To distract myself, I thought of Wade and Logan, of them bursting in here and rescuing me in a blaze of glory. But as the days bled into one another, hope started to fade. 

The man reappeared after four days. He removed the chair from in front of me, opting to just stand. “Have you thought about your answer?” 

“I don’t know where they are.” It was the truth. They didn’t give me any information about their jobs. They could be on Everest for all I knew. 

“I don’t believe you!” He began to pace, wearing a line into the concrete floor. 

“I don’t care if you don’t believe me, it’s the truth.” He rushed at me suddenly, fingers digging brutally into my cheeks as he gripped me. My fists clenched as I forced myself not to jerk away. 

“Stop bullshitting me,” his voice was a venomous hiss. “Tell me now.”

“Do you not understand me?” My voice had lowered too, anger boiling inside me. “Get it through your fucking head that I. Don’t. Know. You are wasting your time. Let me go. Do it before they find me here. They’ll kill you before you can even try to fight back.” 

“Oh is that right?” I knew he was toying with me, but I fell stupidly into his trap anyways. I was angry and tired and so fucking scared. My brain was barely functioning. 

“Wade’s gonna make a necklace of your intestines.” 

The slap made a stomach churning crack. My mouth filled instantly with blood from my split lip. My cheek throbbed in the aftershocks. Tears pooled and trickled down my pulsating cheek. Another thunderous slap caught my other side. Blood splattered across my sweats. It was so hot, it practically burned through to my skin. 

“What a shame.” His hand wrapped in my hair, yanking my head back, neck stretched too far. The warm blood rushed down my throat and I gagged. “You had such a pretty face. I see why those two kept you around. It’s so nice to have some stress relief. But it seems that they’ve moved on to a better piece of meat now.” He winced when I spat at him, the saliva and blood sticking to his cheek. He touched it like he couldn’t believe it, rubbing it between his index finger and thumb. 

“When they get here they’re gonna eat you fucking alive!!” His face twisted in rage. His grip tore at my hair as he ripped my head to the side. Something pricked my neck, cool liquid rushing through my veins. My vision began to fog, body feeling too dense, brain going fuzzy. 

“Sleep well.” 

It had been days. 

I watched the sun beams make their slow progression across the dusty floor, only to be replaced by the darkness of night. My face still stung and my lip kept dripping blood. I called to the woman who was still standing there, hoping that she would take mercy and help me. But I might as well have been shouting at the wall. No one came. No one helped. All I could do was wallow in my pain and loneliness. Maybe they had really abandoned me. What was I to them anyways? Exactly what he said, stress relief. Nothing more than a convenient body. Something to pass the time. If I was worth anything, they would have been here.

My eyes had just slipped shut, head lolling to my shoulder, when the door opened. “Good morning!” It was him. My shoulders slumped, hoping I could just ignore him, that he was just some hallucination. “Your saviors haven’t appeared. So we have come up with a solution.” I opened my bleary eyes when I heard the chair in front of me creak. He clutched my phone in one hand and a wickedly sharp knife in the other. He swiped my phone open before clicking on the screen. I could hear ringing and then someone picked it up on the second one. My eyes were fixated on the knife as he flipped it, catching the hilt each time. 

“Baby cakes?! Where are you? What happened?” Wade’s voice was horrifyingly panicked. 

“Aw baby cakes?” The tip of his knife traced my cheekbone and I held my breath, hoping I wouldn't flinch and cut myself. “What a cute name.” 

“It’s not as cute when you say it,” I grumbled. My voice was thick through my swollen lip. 

“What happened? Why do you sound like you have cotton in your mouth?” The man pinched my busted lip, fresh blood bursting forward, and I whined in pain. My nails bit into my palms. Over the line, I heard a growl, letting me know Logan was also listening in. 

“Sometimes I just don’t know how to handle myself around such a pretty lady.” Wade let off a string of choice swears and Logan snarled. “She has such a naughty mouth. I see why you keep her around. But it seems you’ve left her for good, huh? She won’t be too pretty once I’m done with her.” 

“Don’t you dare fucking touch her,” Logan was spitting in rage. “If you do I swear I’ll rip that worm you call a dick and ram it down your throat.” I smiled despite myself, something warm unfurling in my chest. They were still trying to find me. After over a week, they were still hunting. 

“I told you,” I hissed, “they are going to eat you alive.” 

There was a split moment where I knew I had fucked up. His eyes snapped to me, lips pulled back in a horrifying smile.

Then the knife flashed.

The pain in my leg was indescribable. I thrashed, desperate to escape the blade stuck through my thigh. I knew I was screaming but I couldn’t hear it over the pounding in my ears. Fresh blood from my lip and tears traveled down my chin. More blood pooled under my thigh, soaking into my ruined pants. I was only faintly aware that others were shouting and someone was laughing. 

His hand hammered the knife in deeper, the wood seat cracking under me, the hilt flush with my leg. I wailed, pleading sobs of mercy clogging my throat. “Stop moving so much.” There was more shouting. My head knocked against the back of my chair. The corners of my vision grew dark. “Do you want to say goodbye? Who knows if you’ll make it to see them.” All I could do was weakly whimper. “She seems preoccupied. I’ll see you two soon.” He tapped my face, the force just under another slap. “You sound so nice screaming. Maybe I will actually keep you around.” 

He left me like this, bleeding, trembling, pinned to the chair like a piece of meat. More days passed and the bleeding didn’t stop. It wasn’t normal. I should have died like this. Cold was lingering on my skin and small shivers racked my body. My bare feet had long gone numb. Someone, my foggy vision only registered them as a blob of white, entered the room. They carefully removed the knife and then eased me out of my pants. They methodically stitched my skin together, the haze of shock covered the pain of the stitches. Once a thick white bandage covered the wound, they turned and left. 

On the fourteenth day, I heard shouting. Then gunshots. My head jerked from where I had been sleeping. Panic spiked. I needed to run. “Fuck,” I mumbled, looking around desperately for something, anything, to save me. The room was mostly bare besides a table against the opposite wall. Then I saw it. 

The knife. 

I tried to wiggle closer, but failed to move an inch. “Fuck,” I repeated, desperate now. More shouting and gunshots, closer this time. The more I fidgeted, the more of the seat fell away from under me. Think think think. I continued to sway, lifting the chair onto its sides before it cracked against the floor as it fell. Then I heard a splinter in one of the legs. I took a breath to steel myself before I tipped myself completely over. I nearly sobbed in relief when the chair leg connected to my uninjured leg was the one that snapped off. I awkwardly propelled myself across the scratchy ground, the exposed skin on my left side becoming ragged. The rope on my left wrist began to fray, just enough that when I got to the table, I was able to yank my hand off and reach blindly for the knife. The blade caught my palm but I gripped it tightly, ignoring the bite of pain. 

I made quick work of my other binds, the knife almost slipping from my wet grip, and rose to my freezing feet. My injured leg protested instantly, nearly giving out when I put weight down. But I had to run, had to escape. I limped toward the door, and looked through the small window. I couldn’t see anyone, but I heard screaming. I had to yank hard on the door to get it open. There was a dead end to the right and a long twisty hallway to my left. I took a few tentative steps out. When no alarm sounded, I sprinted. 

The stitches in my thigh ripped right away. I couldn’t think about the pain. Only escape. I clutched my stolen knife close and ducked into any small nook I could when I heard people thundering by. I should have followed them, maybe found an exit, but the squelching sounds of limbs being severed launched me forward. I turned left, left, right, middle at a fork, up a flight of stairs. I was hopelessly lost but all I could think of was escape, running on pure instinct to find it.  

The smell of blood hit me first as I turned a corner. Body parts were strewn across the wide room. Intestines dangled from the ceiling beams. Heads, half crushed, lolled away from their torsos. I wretched, nothing came up besides bile. But I could see outside through large bay windows. My legs were like water under me as I moved to the door. I stepped on an eyeball, the firm jelly bursting between my toes. Just keep going. My head was swimming, nausea from the gore around me mingling with the searing pain in my leg. 

I collapsed. I could barely feel the pain as my hands slammed down on broken glass. Then I heard two men’s voices. I scrambled to hide behind a stack of boxes, jamming my sore body into the smallest crack I could find. “I know she’s in here, can smell her.” My knuckles turned white around the knife. My breath was weak, I had lost too much blood. 

“Could you maybe sound less like a pervy vampire?” I heard boots lightly hitting the floor as they spread out. “Do you think this scared her?” He sounded timid, maybe even a little afraid. The first man laughed. 

“What do you think? You pulled this guy’s entire spine out! Of course she’s fucking scared!” The shout made me jump, huddling deeper into my hiding spot. “Fucking idiot.” A pair of red boots passed my hiding spot, then planted back in front of me. I sucked in a breath as fear rippled through me. My eyes closed tight.

“Hey,” the voice was soft, barely above a whisper. “There you are.” I was so on edge, so terrified, that the hand with the knife whipped out on pure impulse. The tip pushed through something firm, before that gave way to softness. It sunk deep, blood rapidly flowing over my hand. I couldn’t open my eyes. I had attacked someone and they were bleeding all over me. My victim barely made a noise when I stabbed them. 

“You can let go of the knife, you're okay.” A hand caressed my face and my teeth sunk into the leather glove, jaw latched tight. I felt like a cornered animal, ready to tear into anything that came near. “Sweetheart,” the name, the voice, pulled me back. I released the hand and opened my blurry eyes. Logan and Wade were squatted down in front of me. Their faces were covered but I recognized the suits. 

My knife was stuck through Wade’s neck. 

“Wade,” my voice shattered, tears welling. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t see it was you.” He pulled the blade out with a little grunt. There was a hole straight through his throat. My stomach churned again but I held it back. The muscles and tendons laced together rapidly before the skin closed over it completely. 

“Don’t apologize. I said the height of romance was stabbing, didn't I?” Logan reached out again and brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. A frown drew down his lips when he saw the bruises on my cheeks. “What do you say we get you out of here, yeah? I don’t think extreme violence is really your scene.” 

Logan was examining my leg the best he could without touching me. I could hear him sniffing as he leaned closer. “We need to take her to a doctor. She’s lost a lot of blood.”

“They stitched me up but I think all of them have ripped now.” My head felt so heavy. “My fingers are cold…is that normal?” 

“We have to carry you out, is that okay?” As Logan asked, Wade was already reaching for me. He scooped me into his arms and clutched me tight to him. I hissed as my thigh stretched, head falling heavily against Wade’s chest. Logan walked beside us and I reached blindly for his hand. He gave it a small kiss, but didn’t hold it. 

After two weeks, I was safe. 

I was safe. 

But we had to get out of this building first. Logan walked a head to peer down corners before signaling we could move forward. Wade moved slowly, keeping a firm hold on me. He stayed uncharacteristically quiet. I felt limp and weak in his arms, ready to sink into sleep as soon as I could. To keep myself conscious, I tried to remember all our turns, but it felt like there was an impossible amount. There was a round of clicking and the shuffle of feet as we rounded a corner. 

“Ah shit.” 

“Fuck.” 

My sore eyes opened to find rows and rows of armed men. In front of them was him. There was a cruel smile on his face as he took me in. The woman was tucked behind him, her eyes pinned on me. “I see you pulled your stitches. You should have waited for me to get you instead of trying to run off on your own.” Logan snarled as his claws extended. 

“Listen here bub. I don’t make idle threats. So best believe I’m going to follow through with skinning you alive.” Wade moved suddenly, his back to the men. He moved far quicker than he had before. I heard men readjusting their guns, their anxiousness clear.

“And where are you going Mister Wilson?” 

“First off, Mister Wilson is my father.” I groaned as Wade placed me on the hard concrete floor, safely tucked behind a stack of boxes. He stood, “you can call me Marvel Jesus.” I watched with an unfocused gaze as his hand snapped open a holster and handed me the gun that it held. “Just dropping off special cargo.” I took it, my hands shook at the light weight. There was a flash of gold along the black metal but my hazy brain couldn’t make out the text. I carefully tucked it under my leg to hide it from view. Once that was done, Wade traveled back to Logan’s side. “What do you say darling?”

“Let’s fucking go.” My hands slapped over my ears at the thunderous noise of all those guns firing. I was desperate to drown out the screams, the wet slap of limbs falling to the floor. My first instinct was to take deep, calming breaths, but my nose was too full of the scent of iron. The time stretched, the fight going for hours. 

Just as a sense of shaky calm fell over me, hands grabbed me. I recoiled instantly. “Don’t be difficult.” It was him. He was trying to pick me up, trying to move me. But my body was dead weight and he struggled to lift me. Something cool pressed under my thigh. 

Now don’t be afraid of it. If you show fear around guns, you’ll end up shooting yourself in the foot. 

Okay, see this little switch? No, not me you insatiable minx. This. Get a feel for it. If you are ever in danger you have to know where it is right away. 

He was distracted, watching something over the boxes next to me, his arms suspended in mid air. A female scream cut through the rest of the deep shouts. That rush of time, the feeling that wasn’t easy to explain, snapped. I blinked in confusion. With the man’s focus somewhere else, I put every ounce of concentration into my hands, willing them to stay still, as I lifted the gun. I found the safety and flicked it back.

Now don’t get any big action hero dreams of just pulling this trigger and letting bullets fly. It requires a lot of force, so you have to pull the hammer back first. Make sure you hold it with both hands, okay? Last thing you need is a concussion from it flying back and hitting you in the head. 

My sweaty thumb slipped from the hammer. The movement seemed to catch the man’s attention. There was a split moment where neither of us moved. Then, as if in slow motion, he reached for his own gun. I raised mine and pressed the barrel to his forehead. Both of my index fingers wrapped around the trigger. I squeezed with every ounce of strength I had left. 

You can’t look away, pumpkin. 

You gotta make sure anyone who is trying to hurt you is dead. 

I didn’t. 

One second his head was there, eyes bulging in fear. The next, just a cloud of red remained. Squishy chunks of brain, shards of skull, and a splatter of blood went everywhere. It was in my mouth, in my hair, across my bare legs. All sound died and was replaced by a dull ringing. His body slumped before it fell. I stared at it, dark red spluttering from the exposed veins of his neck, the liquid pooling on the floor. The concrete was quick to drink it up. Logan was the first to appear at my feet. He took me in, his face unreadable under his mask. I saw his mouth move but it was jumbled, words half broken. I shook my head, tapping my ears. It was like a dial slowly moving up on the radio. The sound of bullet casings hitting the ground, screams of pain, the thud of bodies. 

“You alright?” Logan sounded panicked, his loud gruff voice cutting through the renewed sound. I nodded. “We’ll get you out of here, don’t worry sweetheart.” I nodded again. There was one last shout of agony before silence fell again. Logan maneuvered the dead man off me, throwing the body carelessly away. He slipped the gun from my sticky hands before hoisting me into his arms. I buried my face in his neck, taking in his scent. Sweet, earthy, the tang of sweat. 

“We got you. I got you, sweetheart. Always will.” 

[jlheon]

୨୧ ─── 𝒾 𝓁𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝓎𝘰𝘶 . . . . 𝗅𝗁𝗌

・❥・ ─── 𝓢𝗬𝗡. heeseung realizes he’s only ever loved you

𝒻𝗆𝗋 ꣑୧ 𝓫est friends to lovers ; fluff 𝔀ordcount ( 600 ) 𝓹eng's note. i miss seung 𝓫ookshelf

the blaring noise of your front door being knocked on and the frantic rings of your doorbell wake you up.

you groan, picking up your phone to check the time and covering your eyes for a moment from the initial shock of the brightness emitting off your screen.

catching a glimpse of a myriad of notifications from your best friend and his signature knocking patterns, though right now more frantic, you get up.

“what the hell do you want from me?” you sigh, rubbing your eyes as heeseung’s figure stands in the hallway.

“sorry for waking you,” he quickly apologizes, letting himself in and removing his shoes.

his disheveled appearance is a telltale sign that he ran all the way to your apartment. even though to your knowledge, his car is completely fine and running— or maybe his impatient ass ran up the seven flights of stairs instead of taking the elevator.

you honestly couldn’t care any less about what lee heeseung had to say that made him wake you both up at this hour in the night. so you tried to stumble back into your bedroom, navigating your dim apartment.

“hey! i came here for a reason!” heeseung calls after you, switching on the light.

“can we talk tomorrow?” you whine, covering your eyes with your hands, “i’m so tired, hee.”

“i know,” heeseung wraps his arms around your shoulders, “but this really can’t wait.”

“seriously?”

“seriously.”

yawning in defeat, you let heeseung guide the both of you towards your ajar bedroom door. he closes the door behind him as you sleepily situate yourself on your bed, back resting against your wooden headboard.

“talk,” you say as he sits adjacent to you.

heeseung looks everywhere but your eyes. his leg slightly bouncing which shakes the whole bed. his hands picking at the tag on one of your stray pillows.

the last time you’ve seen him this nervous he was opening his university decision letters.

“____,” he stammers, reaching out for your hand.

“did something bad happen?” you panic, giving your hand to him, “are you moving…?”

“no,” heeseung shakes his head, “um…”

you stare at his fidgeting body as you try to think of what could possibly be at the tip of his tongue.

“there’s no better way to say this,” heeseung sighs, squeezing your hand in his, “i love you.”

“you what,” you whisper, retracting your hand.

“i know, i’m sorry,” he says weakly, “i know this is sudden and probably the last thing you want to hear, but i really do love you. if you don’t love me back i understand and you can kick me out. we pretend this never happened of course, but please don’t ghost me. i can live with the fact you don’t love me but i can’t live without you in my life.”

“you love me?” you question again in disbelief, bringing your knees to your chest.

“how can i not?” heeseung chuckles in defeat, “you’re perfect.”

“shut up,” you bury your head in your knees.

“i can’t,” he smiles, “i love you. if you give me just one chance to prove it to you i will.”

“you really came all the way to tell me?” you whisper, picking at the skin around your nails.

“i’ve been meaning to for years,” he says sheepishly, “i realized i’ve loved you for all my life but never realized it wasn’t just platonic. i hate when you go on dates and when you have other guy friends. i hate that you let other men taint your self-worth, you’re truly the most deserving and lovable person i know.”

tears brim your eyes as you watch your best friend of over a decade ramble on about how much he loves you. the way his eyes bore into yours as they remain full of love.

you reach out for him and wrap him in a tight hug as your arms fling around his neck, “lee heeseung, i love you too.”

[cera-writes]

Hi! So I recently got into X Men again after watching Deadpool & Wolverine and by god do I love Gambit! I found your blog and your stuff for him is so good! I do have a request for you if you don’t mind. Could I please get a spicy first time with Gambit and fem!reader? It’s not her first time with a guy but maybe there’s been some tension building up and he wants to show her what a real man can do if you know what I mean lmao. I’ll leave it pretty open ended, I trust you’ll make something awesome! ❤️

A/N: Saaaaame! My obsession with this man is unwavering 🫦 Pairing: Remy LeBeau "Gambit" x F!Reader Tags: sex in the water, pining, fluff, shy!reader, pnv sex Summary: Reader decides to take a swim in the lake by the mansion. Having never had much luck with guys in the sexual department, Remy decides to show the reader how good it can really be and joins her in the water.

A Moonlit Dip

The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the tranquil waters of the lake that nestled quietly at the edge of the X-Mansion grounds. You had slipped away from the main building, seeking a moment of solitude and perhaps a bit of refreshment in the cool water. The air was thick with the scent of pine and wildflowers, a welcome respite from the ever-present tension of mutant politics and training sessions.

As you waded into the lake, the water felt like silk against your skin, soothing the day's stresses. The gentle lapping of the waves against the shore was the only sound, save for the distant chirping of crickets preparing for nightfall. You dove under, letting the cool embrace wash over you, feeling more alive than you had all day.

Emerging from the water, you wiped the droplets from your eyes, only to find Remy LeBeau, aka Gambit, leaning casually against a nearby tree, his eyes twinkling with amusement. His usual smirk played at the corners of his lips, and he pushed off the tree, sauntering towards you. You let out an inhuman shriek, startled at seeing his face looking directly at yours. "Jesus, Gambit..." you huffed.

"Bonsoir, chérie," he drawled as he fought back the urge to laugh, his Cajun accent thickening the syllables. "Looks like I ain't the only one who knows how to find a little peace 'round here."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, not expecting company, especially not him. "Just needed a break," you admitted, treading water to keep yourself afloat, suddenly aware of how exposed you must look in the fading light.

Remy chuckled, removing his trench coat and tossing it aside. "Well, since you're already in d'ere, mind if Gambit join you?"

Before you could respond, he was peeling off his shirt, revealing a muscular chest that hinted at countless hours spent training and staying fit. After that came the rest of everything below the belt. Your breath caught in your throat as he stepped into the water, his eyes never leaving yours. The water seemed to part around him, as if welcoming its master back home.

"Ain't no gators in dis lake, mon cher," he teased, swimming closer. "But Remy reckon ya might have somethin' to worry 'bout anyway."

His proximity made the water feel suddenly warmer, the space between you charged with an electric tension that had been building for weeks. You remembered the lackluster dates, the guys who failed to ignite even a spark, and here was Remy, making your heart race with just a look. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't rubbed one out to just the sound of his accent alone as it filled your thoughts when you were by yourself.

"What would that be?" you managed to ask, your voice sounding faraway even to your own ears.

He closed the distance between you, his hands finding your waist beneath the water. "Me," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Remy seen you wit' them, chérie. Seen how d'ey couldn't hold a candle to what we could be."

His confession hung in the air, heavy and real. You turned to face him, your hands resting on his shoulders, feeling the strength beneath the smooth skin. "And what is that?" you challenged, though your voice trembled slightly.

Remy's smile was soft, almost vulnerable. "Something real, somethin' hot enough to burn away all those other cold nights." He leaned in, his lips a breath away from yours. "Let Gambit show you, belle. Lemme show you what a real man can do."

The world around you faded into insignificance as his lips met yours, soft at first, then deepening with a passion that took your breath away. His hands roamed your body, exploring, claiming, igniting fires wherever they touched. You responded in kind, your shyness melting away under his confident touch, giving in to the desire that had simmered between you both for so long.

In the water, limbs intertwined, breaths mingled, and the night seemed to hold its breath, watching the two of you explore each other with a hunger that was both new and ancient. Remy broke the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck, his hands guiding you deeper into the water, where the privacy was absolute.

"Tell Gambit whatchu want, chérie," he murmured, his voice husky with need.

You gasped as his fingers found a sensitive spot, your body arching toward his touch. "Show me," you begged, your voice breaking with emotion. "Show me everything, Remy."

With the moon as your only witness, you finally surrendered yourself to him.

With a low growl, Remy obeyed, his actions deliberate, every movement calculated to send you spiraling into pleasure. The water became an extension of his body, caressing you in ways you never imagined possible. You clung hard to him, nails digging into his skin as your world narrowed down to the sensations he elicited, the heat building within you like a dam about to break. You hissed in pleasure when he thrust even harder inside of you, feeling every inch of his hard dick throbbing inside your walls.

"Dass'it, belle," he encouraged, his voice rough with exertion. "Let go for Remy. Lemme see you fly."

And then, with a final, exquisite thrust, you did, soaring through the clouds of ecstasy, your cries mingling with his groans of satisfaction. The world came crashing back, the stars above seeming brighter, the water warmer, and Remy, more breathtaking than ever before.

He held you close, his forehead resting against yours, both of you catching your breath. "Was dat good, chérie?" he asked, his tone raw with emotion.

You nodded, unable to speak, your heart still racing from the whirlwind of sensations he had unleashed.

Remy kissed your forehead, his arms tightening around you. "We should get outta de water, cher. Night's chill settin' in."

You reluctantly had to agree.

His hand found yours as he led you out of the water, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth that had enveloped you moments before. The moon cast a silvery glow over the lake, making the droplets on your skin shimmer like diamonds. You shivered slightly, not from cold, but from the lingering thrill of what had just transpired between you. You'd managed to find your clothes in the dark, quickly dressing as Gambit did the same.

"Here, chere," Remy murmured, draping his coat around your shoulders. The fabric was still warm from his body, and it smelled faintly of his cologne—a mix of spice and something uniquely him. "You catch a chill, Gambit'll never forgive hisself."

You smiled up at him, feeling the weight of his concern, and more, the depth of his affection. "Thank you," you whispered, pulling the coat tighter.

He nodded, his eyes soft as they met yours. "Let's walk, yeah? Getchu warmed up proper."

Hand in hand, you strolled along the lakeside, the silence between you comfortable, filled with unspoken words. The crickets had resumed their song, and somewhere in the distance, a whippoorwill, its call echoing through the trees.

"Been wantin' to do dat for so long," Remy confessed suddenly, breaking the quiet. "Ever since dat night at the bonfire when you laughed at my terrible joke and didn't even care dat everyone else thought it was lame."

You chuckled, remembering the event he spoke of. "It wasn't that bad," you defended, though you knew he was teasing.

"Maybe not," he agreed, "but it was enough to make Remy think maybe, jus' maybe, you were different. That'chu saw me, not jus' Gambit the playboy, but Remy."

Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice touching a place deep inside you. "I do see you," you admitted, pausing to face him under the moonlight. "All of you. The good, the bad, the Cajun charm... which I love, by the way." You'd confessed.

Remy laughed softly, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "And here Gambit thought he was bein' subtle," he joked, though his eyes remained serious. "You deserve someone who's upfront, someone who can give you all de fire ya need, chérie."

You leaned into his touch, the vulnerability between you both palpable. "And you think that's you?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Gambit know it is," he replied without hesitation, his gaze unwavering. "I wanna be de one to stand by your side, through thick and thin. To show you every day whatchu mean to me."

Tears pricked at your eyes, moved by his declaration. "Remy..." you breathed, searching for the right words.

He shook his head, placing a finger gently against your lips. "No need to say anything now. Jus' think about it, yeah? Let it sink in."

You nodded, understanding his request. This was a moment to savor, to reflect upon, not to rush through with hasty words.

They continued walking, the conversation lightening as Remy regaled you with tales of his youth in New Orleans, the mischief he and his friends had gotten into, and the lessons he had learned along the way. You listened intently, enchanted by his stories, by the man himself. You didn't think it was possible to fall for him even more but he had that charm all the same.

As the path wound closer to the mansion, Remy slowed his pace, his expression turning thoughtful. "Y'know, dere's somethin' I've always wanted to show you," he said, his tone mysterious.

Curiosity piqued, you looked up at him. "What's that?"

He grinned, the familiar glint of mischief returning to his eyes. "A secret spot, up in de hills. It's where I go when I need to clear my head, or jus' feel...free."

Your interest was piqued. "Sounds magical," you mused, imagining the possibilities.

"It is," he confirmed, his hand squeezing yours. "Maybe one day soon, Gambit'll take you de're. Show you de view, letchu feel de wind in your hair."

Excitement bubbled within you at the prospect of sharing such a personal place with him. "I'd like that a lot," you admitted, smiling.

As they reached the edge of the woods, the lights of the mansion peeking through the trees, Remy stopped once more, turning to face you fully. "Tonight was...incredible," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for lettin' me in, chérie."

You shook your head, unwilling to accept gratitude for something so mutual, so transformative. "There's nothing to thank me for," you insisted. "It was...perfect."

His smile widened, a flash of white teeth in the darkness. "Perfect, huh? Well, maybe next time we can aim for legendary d'en," he teased, his eyes twinkling.

Laughing, you nudged him playfully. "Oh, is that so? And what would make it legendary, pray tell?"

Remy leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. "How 'bout we find out together?" he whispered, his voice low and inviting.

Your pulse quickened at his suggestion, the promise of what could be hanging in the air between you. "I think I'd like that," you admitted, your voice catching ever so slightly.

With one last, lingering look, Remy turned towards the mansion, tugging you gently along. "C'mon, chere. Let's getchu inside before you turn into an ice sculpture. Gambit'll cook ya up somethin' to warm your soul."

You laughed, the sound carrying on the breeze as you followed him, your steps lighter than they had been in ages. As you walked, wrapped in his coat and his affections, you couldn't help but feel that perhaps, just perhaps, this was the beginning of something truly extraordinary, like the man himself.

[sundew199]

You better fuck me like you mean it

a/n: dear god I hope I did him justice 🤞🏼

Tags: eustass kidd x f!reader, breeding/pregnancy, fingering, doggy, slight size kink or size difference, dirty talk, slight cum eating

kinktober day eight: breeding/pregnancy for anon

Someone looking from the outside in on the Kid pirate crew would never guess the red haired one armed brute had a soft spot. Frankly not even the entire crew knew he even had one, save for his closest crew mates. But the ones who did know, knew it was you. The once new member who joined his crew after they crossed into the new world, not even asking to join, just hoping onto his ship and ask where the next destination was.

Eustass tried to kick you off, tell you that you had no right just joining his crew like that, but it didn't work. It took a while for him to accept you and even longer to spare more than a few words, but once you broke past that barrier it was history from then on.

Neither of you knew how to deal with the harbored feelings for one another, until one drunken night where you woke up half naked in his bed. The awkwardness wouldn't be spared between you two, almost starting back to the beginning until it happened again, and again and again.

You considered it a relationship after he slipped up one night by saying "I love you", asking if he were messing with you while still buried in your cunt. He snarled a defiant 'No!' back to you and suffocated you with a kiss, fucking you the entire night in his cabin.

Something in him softened after that night, discreetly looking out for you without making the favoritism obvious to the other crew members and letting you get away with stuff no one else could. Behind the cold hearted fierce captain, was a man who held you close at night in his cabin and spent lazy mornings with you tangled in the sheets. The two of you were happy, content with life on the sea and all the possibilities of Kid reaching his goal, excited to be there with him, by his side.

"What?! Are you insane?"

"It was just a thought, get your panties out of twist." Snickering as you sat up in bed, leaning on one elbow facing towards him, laughing a bit harder at his baffled expression.

"You think I'd let you have a kid and raise one on a pirate ship?!" The volume in his voice raising with each word he spoke, scoffing some when you pressed your hand to his mouth, shushing him.

"Will you shut up? I was just kidding Jesus Christ." Rolling your eyes and removing your hand from his mouth, yanking the bed sheet further up your body to shield you naked form.

"No you weren't, I fucking know you better than that, you were being serious." Grumbling with a smidge of distain, offended that you were trying to play it off when he was very much taking it seriously.

"So?" Countering back, widening your eyes with raised brows, challenging him like you always did.

"So?!? We're on a god damn pirate ship, the last place a kid should be raised. You think I'm going to put your life and the little tike at risk like that?" Now sounding a bit angry at the initial suggestion, beginning to rethink if you should've mentioned it at all seeing how worked up Kid was getting over this. Though it was nice to see that he cared, not wanting to loose you or any children the two of you may or may not have, but good lord he was acting like you insulted his entire family line.

Sighing loudly and shaking your head, giving small little clicks of your tongue, you sat up, hugging the bed sheet around your torso, giving him a small smile. Tucking the sheet under your armpits, you leaned over with a careful hand to cup the side of his face ignoring the grumbles and locking him in a kiss. He relaxed slowly the longer you kissed him, melting to your soft lips on his and allowing the previous irritation to wash away.

"Just think about it for a sec," Mumbling into his lips, pressing down on his chest and allowing the sheet to fall from it's hold, keeping him from avoiding what you were trying to say. "I'd be having your baby."

"I know that." Grumbling back, slipping his arm out from under you to hold you at the waist, looking up at you to try and see where you could possibly be going with this.

"Not saying we have to, but just imagine it for me. Everyone would know who I belong to, who they'd have to deal with if they dare lay a finger on me." Practically whispering into his mouth, seeing his eye lids droop at your words, the image forming in his head and slowly understanding what you were conveying.

"Mhm." Moving his hand from your waist to the center of your shoulder blades, the warmth of his palm raising goosebumps on your skin.

"There's no harm in imagining is there?" A shift of seductive humor in your tone broke through, silencing whatever answer he may have with another kiss, throwing a leg over his while still holding the side of his face. Kid accepted his silence from you and kissed back hard, nipping and pulling at your bottom lip.

The morning would've continued on like that if it weren't for Killer knocking on the other side of the door, requesting his captain's presence. The muttering and grumbling brought more laughs out of you, watching him from the bed get half way decent. Just before he left, Kid kissed your cheeks and lips, reminding you there was no rush to get out of bed and to take your time. You smiled sweetly up at him, deciding to lounge in his cabin for a good while before joining everyone else.

Nothing exciting was going on today, just a supply stop at a nearby island which ending up being the area everyone decided to get wasted at, meaning the ship would be docked here overnight. You were already back to the ship by the time the rest of the crew crowded into one of the local bars, deciding you weren't in the mood to drink your heart out.

Assuming you were alone for the time being, you headed down to the kitchen to grab a quick snack in just an old t-shirt, nothing else besides your panties. A single light above the sink illuminated the area by the fridge, bent over and rummaging through what little was left to find something decent to eat.

"Did you even bother to check to make sure no one would walk in on you like this?"

The deep gravelly voice startled you, not hearing them come in and quickly trying to pull the end of your shirt down to cover yourself. You scoffed and rolled your eyes when you turned around to see Kid, leaning on the door frame with his arms crossed, eyeing you up and down like a predator would its prey.

"Thought you'd still be at the bar." Not answering his question, instead responding with your own, turning back around to the fridge to keep looking for a quick snack. His heavy footsteps grew closer, slow and calculated until hands rested on your hips. The cool metal from which he used to replicate his lost appendage was icy against your warm skin, the other hand warm and human, contrasting against each other from his touch.

Shamelessly, Kid brought your hips back into him, pressing you to the very obvious bulge in his pants, sharply inhaling and biting back a moan. You could hear him chuckle behind you, letting out a hum as the warmth of his palm spread over your back, moving the fabric of your shirt out of the way.

"Been thinking about this morning." Beginning on a low breath, pressing himself harder into your clothed cunt and basically farther into the fridge.

"Uh huh." Not bothering to try and remember what he was referring to, more so thinking of if you were about to let him fuck you right here or at least try to move.

Without even having to say a word, Kid yanked you out of the fridge by your hips, moving you to bend over the counter instead, catching the greedy smile on his face in the midst of the movement and noticing the tight knot forming in your lower stomach. With the metal hand on your hips, the rustling from behind could only be made out to be his other hand undoing his belt.

"Your little scenario got me thinking," His words vibrating in the shiver that ran up your spine, suddenly so wet and needy for him and all he did was press himself back into you. "I like the idea of you being swollen and round with my baby."

A soft moan left your lips at his words, instinctively pushing your hips back as he pulled your panties to the side, forming a little arch to make it easier to slide into your dripping cunt.

"You're gonna fuck a baby into me?" Working in a little taunt into your tone, eyes rolling back with the metal hand squeezed the flesh of your ass.

"It's what you want right?" Pressing himself into your back, words ticking your ear as he spoke, turning to face him with a begging look to convey what you wanted without words.

Kid laughed under his breath, using the metal hand to keep your spread apart as two of his fingers swiped over your folds. Already being so wet earned an amused groan from him, staying pressed to your back as he gather enough of your slick on his fingers before slipping them in. Every part of Eustass Kid was big, his ego, his goals, his fingers and his dick. Prep work was always required no matter how desperate the two of your were for each other, but even the stretch of two girths fingers were never enough for the stretch around his dick, but it'll have to do.

Even knowing it were only the two of you on the ship, there was always the slight possibility of someone walking on, so you did your best to be quiet. But it was hard, so hard when he scissored and fluttered along that spongy spot inside you that had stars forming in your vision, gasping and clinging onto him.

"You want it bad huh?" Taunting in your ear, shoving his fingers all the way up to the last knuckle inside you, like he were literally trying to open you up.

He didn't even give you enough time to try and answer, switching from moving his fingers around your walls to pumping them, squelching the juices soaking his hand and wrist, making it next to impossible to keep down the moans and whines of desperation. Kid laughed again, like he were pitying you and pressing his cheek to yours as he pressed your body into the counter.

"Fuck - Eustass-" Croaking out, ends of your words filtering out into a broken sob, trying to grasp anything within reach but finding nothing, leaving you clawing at the air.

Yanking his fingers out suddenly, ripping a surprised gasp from your throat, your body fell limp onto the counter, so drained of energy and barely getting a chance to cum on his fingers. You didn't need to see to know he was freeing his cock, relaxing the lower half of your body to prepare for the undeniable stretch that was to come.

Splitting your soaking and sensitive folds with the head of his cock, lubricating himself just a bit, he sighed at the sight, already looking forward to see you leaking with his cum, only to shove it back in. Kid didn't expect the little scenario you mentioned this morning to mess with his head this badly, but the moment he started to picture you pregnant was his undoing. Various scenarios ran through his head from that moment on, like you riding his cock swollen and round, or how much bigger your tits would get, and fuck it, he wanted to see that.

"Fuck me like you mean it Eustass, C'mon."

Your breathy demand that tried to come off as encouragement sent him shoving himself slowly inside you, watching your cunt stretch and swallow his cock. God it was his favorite thing to witness, your gummy walls wrapping around him greedily and taking him in, shit he wouldn't trade this for the world.

Once he bottomed out, felt the very tip press into the depths of your cunt then he felt comfortable enough to pull halfway out and go back in. Fucking you rough and fast, required built up, as brutal as the world may know him, he wasn't that way with you.

Holding tight onto one hip, he slowly formed a pace, steady to your liking and basking in the pitchy desperate moans you let out with each thrust. You were meeting each thrust, standing on your tippy toes to send him deeper and god was he a lucky, lucky man. What woman would go to these lengths while being fuck? You did and Kid knew that and reminded himself to hold onto you.

"Faster." You moaned, bending your back into a deep arch, pressing your forehead to the countertop and letting the euphoria of his fat cock fucking into you wash over.

Colliding his hips faster at your request, Eustass tightened his grip on your hip, knowing the metal finger would leave nice little bruises later, another sight he liked to see as courtesy of him. Marking your perfect skin with his imperfections had the heat in his blood rising, the pull of contrasts to bringing you two together.

"How bad do you want it woman?" Asking through huffs of breaths, watching the way your ass bounced off his pelvis, the ripples he sent through your flesh.

"Badly, please."

"Say it." Demanding with a devilish smirk, knowing you would hear it in his words without having to see his lips curl.

"Please fuck a baby into me, Eustass." Responding to him so prettily it was sickening almost, so sweetly sickening how your words alone could sway his actions, get him to do what you want.

Slamming the hand that wasn't holding tightly onto your hip by the side of your head, Kid returned to pressing his chest onto your back, hips snapping like a piston into yours.

"You want my cum that badly? Fuck you until you're round and heavy?" Growling into your ear, hips snapping harder and faster with each pant of his words, your body shaking beneath him all sense of composure dissipated.

"Yes, yes please yes,"

"Make you a mommy yeah?" Lifting off of your back just a hare to readjust his hips, thrusting into you even deeper, like he were aiming to cum directly into your womb. "Shoot my cum right into your womb princess, make sure it takes."

Your lashes fluttered and your eyes rolled back into your head, clenching and unclenching around his cock with each deep thrust, begging in every which way possible for him. Eustass snarled behind you, standing up straight and grasping both hips as his thrusts turned sporadic and uncoordinated.

"Fucking perfect pussy just for me, fuck I love you." Sputtering out with a groan, slamming into you one last time as his dick began to pulse inside of you, painting your sore and oversensitive walls with his cum. Your orgasm came shortly after, not even needing any extra stimulation besides his dick ramming in and out of you.

Barely able to move after he pulled out, sighing at the way it dripped down your legs, you jolted and groaned at it being pushed back inside you and any remnants being gathered on his tongue swiping over your thigh. He pulled your panties back over, humming at how quickly they turned soaked from the overflow of his cum leaking out of your hole, but having no where else to go.

"So what happens if it doesn't take?" Asking on your walk back to his cabin, a bit delirious and fucked out still.

"Then I'll keep fucking you until it does." Answering like you asked the world's stupidest question, rolling his eyes and letting you into the room first.

"Maybe one more round then, just to be sure."

Catching the way your eyes and lips matched the lustful determination in your tone, Eustass responding with a throaty laugh, locking the door to his cabin before tossing you onto the bed, another long sleepless night ahead for the both of you.