#is bill just messing around though?

[themsource]

7alt8 AU - Moments Like These

Got asked by a friend what exactly Bill and Stan's relationship is like, and made this quick comic to show just how much Bill enjoys messing with Stan XD

Poor boyo has had to deal with stuff like this for 43 years LOL

[flufflecat]

Another day, another suspiciously yellow and black animal showing up that i have named Bill.

This poor injured swallowtail was in the backyard, so i offered him a variety of flowers then moved him to a safe spot since i cant really do more to help him. He kept trying to climb my arms, but i politely asked him not to try to crawl on my face and i think he agreed.

When I was grabbing some flowers down the road, there was also a flock of goldfinches flitting around the thistles to add to my yellow-animals tally, but i couldn't get any good pics of them.

Between the goldfinches that have shown back up for the first time since june, this butterfly, and Bill the Caterpillar (who has since crawled off somewhere), I'm starting to debate whether spending the past 2 weeks joking about being possessed by bill cipher was a good idea.

Also i came face to face with a deer while out alone last night and i didn't like the way she took a step toward me when i held my hand out. She bowed to me so i bowed back and after about a minute of staring she decided to wander away.

[3-aem]

Taxes 🧍

[boneblushed]

And, boy, you got her

synopsis Rafe’s in charge of the pledges during Rush Week. Hazing isn’t a thing. Making you feel so high school is.

wc 3.6K

a/n omgggg Euro Trip Rafe <3333 I was living on pledgetok last week and just couldn’t not write something about it

“Holy shit,” Noah mutters, surveying the crowd over his red cup, “I swear they get scrawnier every single year.”

Rafe nods gravely, taking a pull of his beer. “It’s fucking grim.”

“Like — fuck, look at those two.” Noah gestures toward the shaded veranda, a fresh coat of gloss making its balustrades shine. Huddled in one corner, attempting to take up as little space as possible, two boys donning UNC merch survey the crowd in tandem. “We weren’t that fucking scraggy as freshman, were we?”

“You two weren’t,” Kelce snorts, coming up behind them. Topper brings up his rear, mid-bite of his loaded hotdog. “Thornton definitely was though.”

“Oi!” Topper protests, his words garbled by half chewed sausage. “S’wasn’t that bad. C’mon.” He turns to Rafe then, swallowing his mouthful. “But seriously, you locked in any potentials?”

Rafe furrows his brow thoughtfully, looking back over Delta Chi’s yard. Unsurprisingly, it’s far too early to say. Though the barbecue that they’re hosting is a good way for pledges to mingle, it isn’t exactly hazing material; they’re going to have to get creative.

“Maybe,” he replies finally, shrugging. “We’ll just have to see I guess.”

He tips back his red cup again, swallowing the last dregs of beer before acquiescing. As he’s about to announce his need for a refill, a few pledges sidle up to their group, looking hopeful.

Not overtly, of course. Painstakingly hiding their eagerness behind an armour of insouciance.

“Rafe,” the tallest of the three greets, handing him another red cup. The golden liquid inside it brims to the surface, its white foam dissolving in mocking. “Hey, bro. You need another?”

Rafe raises his eyebrows, hiding a grin. “Shit. Table service already?”

The boy grins in tandem, looking a little sheepish. “Big fan, man. I’m Dylan.” He motions at the two guys on either side of him, wearing matching squints and backwards caps. “This is Rahul and Xav, we’re all here from Trinity.”

“Durham and Chapel Hill?” Noah enquires, whistling approvingly when they nod. “Fuck, we used to love having away games there. Those Trin cheerleaders…”

“Haha, shit, what was that chic’s name again?” Rafe asks then, a pull of mirth as he turns to Noah. “The one you messed around with in junior year?”

“Blake,” Noah answers, groaning in a mock-wistful sort of way. “They didn’t make ‘em like her at the Academy.”

Rafe snorts, sending the pledges a sage glance. “Nah. They made ‘em better.��

Noah raises his eyebrows, his brown eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, so we are allowed to objectify your girl then, Cameron?”

“Damn, so you’re tied down?” Xavier pipes up, his voice gravelly and low on purpose. Overtly masculine, like he’s trying hard to be red-blooded. “Your girl doesn’t mind you partying?”

Rafe frowns. “Why would she mind?”

“Uh,” Xavier balks, pulling at the bill of his backwards cap, “shit. I don’t know… like, doesn’t she get pissed that you’re constantly around sorority girls?”

“HA —” Topper laughs, and then he falters, thwarted by Rafe’s warning glower. “Uh.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Let’s just say Cameron doesn’t give her any reasons to be suspicious.”

“Because he’s obsessed with her,” Noah adds, unperturbed by Rafe’s expression. He pauses then, an amusing idea popping into his head. “Which means…” he continues, returning Rafe’s glare with a trust me one of his own, “you guys should be too.”

Rafe doesn’t trust him. Like, at all. He sends him a bewildered look, unsure where he’s going with this. “White — what?”

Noah ignores him. He downs his beer and crushes the red cup in his hand, deftly aiming it at the nearest bag of trash. “So,” he says, eyeing the three pledges with interest. “How serious are you guys about rushing Delt?”

“Pretty serious, bro,” Rahul answers, looking to his friends for support. “Think we got a shot?”

Noah throws his arm around Rafe’s neck, his strong bicep taut as he shoots them a grin. “Depends, man, I might know how we could figure that out though.” He begins to steer Rafe away from them, sending one last, faux-somber look over his shoulder. “Be right back, yeah?”

Rafe, whose bewilderment is quickly giving way curiosity, allows himself to be marshalled out of earshot without complaints.

He shrugs Noah off of him once they’re on the verandah, his features ever-bemused as he turns toward him. “The fuck was that about?”

“Bro, I know exactly how we’re going to haze these motherfuckers,” Noah replies, his voice lilted with mirth. “You know… without breaking any rules.”

The bewildered expression on Rafe’s face doesn’t acquiesce. “Okay… how?”

“Instead of getting them to be our bitches,” he answers, a mischievous grin making home on his features. “We’re going to get them to be our girlfriends’ bitches.”

Rafe frowns. “Bro. What?”

“Cameron, it’s perfect.” He swipes Rafe’s beer from his hand and takes a generous pull. “What do frat guys hate more than being called scrawny as fuck?”

“Uh. Doing assignments?” Rafe answers blankly, still frowning. He doesn’t have it in him to think too hard about Noah’s profferance. He’s on hour two of manning this boring event, hour four since he bid you farewell, and all Rafe can bear to think about right now is the imminent taste of your peach-scented lips.

Noah shakes his head. “No, dumbass. Being called a simp.”

“Wrong,” Rafe answers, “I don’t mind that shit at all.”

“You’re the exception,” Noah replies matter-of-factly. “You and Y/N have always been the exception. C’mon, I’m talking about us,” he places his palm over his breastbone solemnly, “mere mortals.”

Rafe narrows his eyes. “Fuck off. How would that even work?”

“We…” Noah pauses to think, a slightly furrow to his brow, “alright, I got it. We assign the pledges to our girlfriends, one by one. Give them a week to make a good impression — you know, carry their bags, buy them flowers, all that sentimental crap you love.”

“You really think the guys’ll agree to this?” Rafe asks, sounding reluctant. “I mean… I don’t know if I’m alright with a bunch of idiots holding doors for my girl.”

“But you’re an idiot that holds a door for your girl,” Noah answers, not missing a beat.

“Fuck off, White.”

“I’m serious. It’ll be funny. And look… if you’re worried about Y/N, I know she’ll find it adorable as fuck.”

Rafe shakes his head. “No way. She didn’t find high-school me adorable.”

Noah raises his eyebrows skeptically. “You’d be surprised, man. Besides, these guys aren’t going to be like high-school you. High-school you was a douchebag.”

“A douchebag who got the girl.”

“A douchebag who got the girl after he stopped acting like a douchebag.” Noah smirks then. “A douchebag who’d give all these fuckers a run for their money if he was pledging Delt this year.”

Rafe grins in tandem, stealing his beer back to take a big swig. “Alright, shit, alright. Harmless shit though, right? Chivalry and all that?”

“Harmless as hell,” Noah agrees. “C’mon. You really think any of these guys has the balls to make a pass at one of our girls?”

“Easy for you to say, White. You don’t fucking have a girl.”

Noah frowns. “What d’you mean? Aren’t we going halves on Y/N?”

“Holy fuck, Noah,” Rafe groans, almost spitting out his mouthful of beer. “If Y/N heard the shit you said when she wasn’t around, she’d probably kill you.”

“Nah,” Noah replies, seemingly unperturbed. “She loves me.”

“Well,” Rafe says grimly, crushing his own empty cup in his head. “She might do now, but she sure as hell won’t by the end of this week.”

—

The first time it happens, you’re understandably perplexed.

You’re en-route to your 9AM, bag strap denting your left shoulder, when a stranger falls into your step and swipes it from your figure. It’s a motion so quick and deft you initially think you’re getting mugged.

As you double back in bewilderment, he proffers, “you alright with this?”

“Uh.” You balk. “What?”

“Your bag,” he answers, readjusting it on his own shoulder. He seems earnest. Nervous, even. “It looked heavy. I can carry it to class for you, if you want?”

You allow a pause to take him in.

“No, I’m…” another pause, more of his demeanour on display. Backwards cap, crisp white polo shirt, smile lines exposing the ghost of a grin on his face. A familiar grin, the kind that pulls a soft, maudlin feeling from your ribcage. “Look, if you’re trying to hit on me —”

“No, no,” he interrupts quickly, his eyes widening in a panic. “Shit — no, don’t tell Cameron I’m hitting on you. I’m just…”

“Wait a minute,” your eyes narrow accusatorially, because of course he’s behind this chivalrous display, “you know my boyfriend?”

The stranger grimaces sheepishly. “Uh. Yeah.”

“Explain.”

“It’s… uh… well — basically, I’m pledging Delt,” he answers haltingly, self effacement juxtaposing his frat boy exterior. “Rafe’s asked us to be all gentlemanly and shit for pledge week, I don’t know. To you guys, I mean. Like… the current frat member’s girls?”

“Oh my god,” you groan. “No he hasn’t.”

“Shit.” He looks far more nervous now that he did five minutes ago. “He didn’t tell you?”

“No,” you grumble, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “No he did not.”

Rafe’s on speed dial. He picks up on the first ring, the way he always does for you.

“Hey baby,” his gravelly timbre crackles through the phone, the low hum of frat house chatter audible in the background. “What’s up?”

“Don’t even. You know what’s up Rafael.”

A pause. When Rafe speaks again, his voice is quick and placating. “It was Noah’s idea.”

“Of course it was.”

“Dylan’s not playing up, is he?”

You raise your eyebrows at the stranger then, assessing him faux-suspiciously. “No way. He’s doing a better job than you ever did in high school.”

“Woah woah woah,” Rafe replies, a playful lilt to his tone. “That fucker’s not calling you dream girl or something, is he?”

“Worse. He’s being respectful of my boundaries.”

“Oh shit. I fucking knew this was a bad idea.”

You shake your head in exasperation, trying not to laugh. The poor stranger’s still standing there at attention, your leather bag looking ridiculous on his arm. “Rafe. Tell me he’s the only one.”

“He’s one…” Rafe starts slowly, sounding sheepish, “of three. Four, counting me.” In the background, you hear Noah pipe up and add, “five, Cameron. How could you forget me?”

“You’re un-fucking-believable, Noah White,” you shout through the phone.

“I love you too, Y/N,” Noah sings, and then he groans, no doubt shoved to the side by his indignant best friend. It’s Rafe on the phone again, voice sweet and thick as molasses as he says, “they’ll behave, baby, and make your life easier in the process. I promise.”

“What?” You accuse, fighting back a smile. “Like you did in high school?”

“Fuck no,” he replies, the grin on his face audible. “They’ll be nothing like I was, sweetheart.”

“What?” You tease. “Absolutely insufferable?”

“And absolutely in love with you.”

You raise your eyebrows. “How can you be so sure?”

“They’re under strict instruction. Have a shiner waiting for them if they pull something funny.”

Another exasperated laugh bubbles out of you, and you begin walking forward again, motioning at the boy named Dylan to follow in your step. “Right. So the boundaries are on purpose, are they?”

“The respect, too. No being inappropriate and charming at the same time.”

“And why not?” You ask faux-indignantly. “What if I like being objectified?”

“Can’t have you falling in love with them, can I?”

“Hey,” you argue, frowning stubbornly. “That is not what made me fall in love with you.”

“It isn’t?”

“Well,” you balk, “not solely that.”

“You’re fucking sexy,” he recites devotedly, almost yells, and you can hear the collective groan of his frat brothers in the background. “Are you wearing those Lululemon pants right now? Point is, I’m thinking about your ass in those Lululemon pants right now.”

“Rafe, I was fucking kidding. Stop.”

“No you weren’t.” You know he’s right; you can picture that stupid smirk on his face. It makes your cheeks warm. Asshole. “You’re blushing now, aren’t you?”

“Anyway.”

“Anyway,” Rafe agrees. “No funny business, alright? Just lots of good deeds.”

Good deeds. You suppose you could get used to good deeds, the embarrassment of attention notwithstanding.

You let out a defeated sigh, halting in front of your 9AM class. “You so, so owe me.”

“I so, so love you,” Rafe replies, and it makes your pulse leap; you’ll never get used to this feeling. “See you later, yeah?”

“Uh huh. Love you.”

Dylan waits until you’ve ended the call before saying farewell, dutifully handing your leather bag back to you and giving you a mock salute. The way he does it, all sheepish and genuine with a charming smile on his face, makes your heart twinge in a junior year of high-school sort of way. You’re feeling sentimental. It’s sweet.

You’re reminded of Rafe before he was yours, stumbling over himself to win your favour. Confusing chivalry with courting, objectifying you in the name of flirting.

Insufferable, but sweet nonetheless. You digress.

—

The next time it happens, you’re ambushed at your favourite cafe.

A dutiful Delta Phi pledge has already queued up and purchased you coffee, handing it over to you with a blushing bouquet of tulips.

You raise your eyebrows at him questioningly. “Is that…?”

“Uh, an oat iced coffee with vanilla?” He asks, sounding nervous. “I asked Cameron for your order.”

“Didn’t ask me about pastries, though,” a voice behind you adds, rough and familiar with a sweetness around the edges. Rafe circles your waist with ease and pulls you into his chest, sponging a soft kiss to your temple before handing you a brown bag.

A glossy, Daily Bread sticker shines on its exterior proudly.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you look up at him expectantly. “Tell me you didn’t drive back home for a single croissant.”

“I didn’t drive back home for a single croissant,” Rafe replies. He grins then, looking that same, sheepish genuine that pulls a maudlin feeling. “I drove back home for twenty.”

“Rafe. Why?”

“Because you like Daily Bread,” he replies matter-of-factly, like it’s obvious.

You shake your head in exasperation, tip-toeing up to press a quick kiss to his lips. It becomes less quick against better judgement. He tastes like spearmint gum and cold brew, the hand he has held to your waist tightening ever so slightly. Slipping under your shirt, massaging the soft skin he finds there expertly, discreetly. Too much for 8am on a Wednesday morning, sans coffee. Your face feels on fire. You pull away in a hurry.

Meanwhile, the freshman pledge balks at the exchange, looking out of place.

Rafe frowns bemusedly at your diffidence, only clocking the reason when you nod over at him.

“I’ll walk her over Ben,” he says, dismissing him. “You’re off the hook, bro.”

“Shit.” The boy named Ben grimaces; he needs to get his hours in, and doesn’t deem this a fair ambush. He scrambles for an excuse. “Right. Can I still give her the flowers?”

“Of course you can,” you beam, accepting them gratefully. You look up at Rafe then, asking, “And if I want to walk with Benjamin?”

Rafe grins down at you, disbelieving. “Do you, baby?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” you say, wriggling out of his grasp. “He got me flowers.”

Rafe falters, his eyes widening in surprise. “Sweetheart, I got you a croissant.”

“Ben got me a coffee,” you hedge. “And flowers.”

“Y/N,” he placates.

“Rafael,” you echo, unperturbed by his exasperation. You take a sip your coffee. “I’ll see you later, okay? Ben’s ticking off a good deed this morning.”

Poor Ben looks helpless, taking the brunt of Rafe’s glare as you motion for him to hold the door for you.

“C’mon Ben, we’re going to be late.”

“But…” Ben pauses, his eyes flitting to Rafe nervously. “This is fine, right?”

Rafe sighs, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth in defeat. “Yeah, bro. You’re good.” He looks to you, then. “You’re unbelievable.”

You smile sweetly. “I’m wearing the Lulu leggings.”

“Oh I noticed,” Rafe replies, his blue eyes falling down your figure in slow, reverent paces. “It’s why I want to be the one holding the door for you.”

You roll your eyes. “Men only want one thing.”

Rafe grins. “Yeah. You.”

—

By the end of the week, you’re more used to the chivalry than you’re willing to admit.

You’ve enjoyed free iced lattes and filled your dorm with gorgeous bouquets, no door left unopened and no walk to class left unescorted. And really, every pledge you’ve come across has been pleasant and unassuming, albeit absolutely terrified of Rafe and therefore extra obliging on instinct.

They’ve even offered to do favours for you, got you into sought after Pilates classes and done last minute grocery runs on your behalf. It’s put you in this constant state of mild exasperation, like you can’t believe you’re worthy of this much love and chivalry.

It’s exactly the way you felt back in high-school with Rafe, and this revelation pulls lots of funny feelings from your stomach, from your chest. Feelings you’ve forgotten that are all yours and all his. Because it’s strange, having someone other than Rafe taking care of you. (Or Noah.) It’s strange because it makes you realise just how much he adored you back in the day.

These emotions come to a head at the pledge week closing bash, Delta Phi lit up with fluorescent lights in technicolour. Inebriation ensues, beer pong follows, and an impromptu DJ deck plays endless songs with heavy bass.

Rafe Cameron has you pulled close, as always, the taut muscle of his forearm pressing heat to your exposed waist. You’re a few drinks down and hyperaware of his proximity, ankles touching, thighs too, torsos close with your head resting on his shoulder.

“I think I like Dylan the best,” you announce suddenly.

“Yeah?” Rafe asks, kneading your skin absentmindedly.

You nod. “He’s sweet. Told me all about his girl back home.”

Rafe grins then, shaking his head bemusedly. “You’re such a sucker for love, sweetheart.”

“Hey!” You glare up at him faux-incensed, looking accusatory. “So are you!”

“Shhhh,” Rafe murmurs playfully. “Not so loud, you’ll fuck up my street cred.”

You scoff. “Since when do you care about street cred?”

“Shit, you’re right,” Rafe agrees easily, leaning down to draw your lips in for a kiss. He’s all patchouli and musk, beer on his tongue and unchaste intentions in his touch. When he pulls away, his lips are still an inch from yours, his voice rougher than it was a second ago, “I don’t care. Like, at fucking all.”

“Good,” Noah snorts from behind him. “‘Cause you never had any to begin with, bro.”

“There you are,” you say then, eyeing Noah over Rafe’s shoulder. There’s a mock accusatory expression on your face, softened by mirth and the alcohol on your lips. “Have you been hiding from me, White?”

Noah grins sheepishly, taking a pull of his beer. “Maybe.”

You narrow your eyes. “Tell me. When did you become worse than Rafael?”

“I didn’t become worse!” Noah insists. “He just became better. You know, after he got the girl.”

You make a face. “Smooth.”

“Hey,” Noah raises his arms in surrender, looking faux-somber, “someone’s gotta teach the next generation, don’t they? I’m committed to their education.” He raises his eyebrows then, a mischievous glint in his eye. “C’mon, don’t act like you didn’t love it.”

Rafe grins. “She totally fucking loved it.”

You aim a glare at the pair of them, failing miserably at hiding your amusement. “So maybe I didn’t mind it. Sue me.”

“Of course you loved it,” Noah says, throwing his arm around you and pulling you into his side. “You love Cameron, don’t you?”

You narrow your eyes. “Opinions vary.”

“You love me?” Noah tries.

“You fucking wish.”

“Everyone fucking wishes,” Rafe says then, throwing his arm around you too, your figure wedged between the pair of them. Frat boy sandwich, you think tiredly. If high-school you could see you now, you’re pretty sure she’d have an aneurysm. “Especially when you’re in Lululemon.”

“Rafe.”

“I’m kidding. Not really. They all love you, you know that, yeah?”

You look up at him questioningly. “The pledges?”

“Uh huh,” Rafe replies, raising his eyebrows at you. “This is what I was afraid of, you know.”

“What?” You ask, lifting yours in tandem.

“Everyone falling in love with you, like I did in high school.”

You scrunch up your nose at him, your cheeks warming in diffidence. “No one’s fallen in love with me, don’t be silly.”

“I have,” Noah pipes up unhelpfully.

“Shut up, Noah. I saw you talking to Georgia just before.”

Noah grins, pulling away and offering you a mock salute. “Guilty as charged.” He turns to survey the crowd, spotting her figure on the fairy-light lit porch. “Speaking of…”

And he’s gone before you’re able to tease him any further, leaving Rafe to guide you out of his side and into his chest. You wrap your arms around his neck, his hands exerting a warm, steady pressure into the curve of your waist.

“As I was saying,” you continue, frowning up at him playfully. “No one’s fallen in love with me.”

Rafe’s unconvinced. His gaze skates down your figure again, a tortured groan falling from his throat. “Have you seen you, sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes, face hot and self conscious. “And even if they have,” you add, “it doesn’t matter.”

Rafe raises his eyebrows. “It doesn’t?”

“No way. Because I’m in love with you, not any of them.”

Rafe grins then, a devastatingly handsome look on his face. “I’ll never get used to hearing that.”

“I’ll never get used to saying it.”

[messrmoonyy]

- The Forbidden Fruit

Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

Request- I NEED ARTHUR TO STEAL DUTCHS GIRL AND SHOW HER A REAL MANS LOVING. FILTHY PASSIONATE LOVING. WORK YOUR MAGIC

A/N- I got incredibly carried away with this. Is basically prawn with no plot honestly. And far softer smut than I think you intended it to be but. Here we are. Enjoy.

Warnings- 18+ | implied toxic relationship ( reader is in love with Dutch van der Linde what can you expect here ), smut: affair, Arthur being desperate to please!!!, fingering, oral ( reader receiving ) , unprotected p in v and he accidentally finishes inside oops, like the tiniest amount of cockwarming ( WC-8.9k )

AO3 | Masterlist - requests are open :)

Arthur didn’t involve himself in Dutch’s relationships. He stayed polite to whatever young woman he had hanging off his arm at the time, but that was about it. He’d seen too many girls come and go- usually in floods of tears at being dismissed by the man that had seduced and charmed them into loving him. Just working his way through shiny new plaything to plaything, hiding his unending sorrow for Annabelle under the skirt of some new girl. 

Unfortunately you were no different. 

In your defence, he supposed, you had lasted far longer than the rest. The only real exception to that being the famed Annabelle herself. But as was almost inevitable, your time in the honeymoon phase was slowly crumbling down around you. 

Arthur did wonder if it was simply because of the current stress levels in camp. They had all been on the run for longer than he cared to try and count, but after the mess in Blackwater they had reached new heights of being hunted. It had never been this bad. Nothing had ever gone this wrong. Because before everything had gone to complete shit, he’d actually seemed quite taken with you. In truth Arthur actually had begun to consider the idea that Dutch really did love you. Had finally been able to move on from the weight on his heart of his dead lover. 

But no. 

Arthur was observing the same pattern as always, it had just taken far longer with you. And that just seemed to make it all the more cruel. 

He barely even looked at you most days now. Barely uttered a few words in return to any question you asked. 

And the arguing was growing ever more fierce. It was practically everyday. 

Arthur didn’t like it. Didn’t like the way Dutch treated you. Didn’t like the way Dutch was treating anyone lately. But you in particular had never been anything but nice to him, kind. Sweet. Incredibly naive but sweet. To Arthur too. Some of the girls Dutch had strung along had been vile, rude and entitled and stuck up. But you? You were a genuinely nice person it seemed. And maybe that was your greatest flaw, for someone like that did not belong with Dutch Van Der Linde. 

In fact Arthur had come to like you from a distance. The times he had spoken to you you had been interesting, intelligent. Far cleverer than him and he had always liked that in a woman if he was honest. 

But still you clung to Dutch. Though your patience with him of late seemed to finally be wearing thin. 

Dutch had never really been one to be ashamed or afraid of airing his dirty laundry within the gang. Whether that be packing on the PDA in camp in a way that often made Arthur want to vomit up his breakfast, or the even more puke inducing sounds of the two of you making up all night long. So arguing was no exception to that either. 

And today was no different. 

“ you barely even look at me! I’m right here! I always have been, I’ve always been such a good girl haven’t I? I do as you say. And look at how you repay me! “ Arthur sighed as he dropped a stack of bills into the box, successfully recovering yet another of Strauss’ debts for him. You were both screaming at each other again, the tent flaps pulled down as if that would over any form of soundproofing. It was the camp's regular ambience now it seemed. 

He did feel sorry for you, he really did. You’d left everything you had for Dutch. Some beautiful, intelligent, well spoken girl. Heiress to her daddy’s mining fortune up north, used to the finer things but seeking some adventure. And Dutch had offered you both. Drowned you in jewels and gifts- though unlike the ones you had once owned the ones he gave were not his to give- Shown you off like a shiny new toy on his arm. Expressly informed Miss Grimshaw that you were not to be lifting a finger, that you would not have to earn your keep with chores like the others. 

You earned your keep by looking beautiful beside him, by boosting his ego with your constant devotion to him, by letting Dutch use you for his own source of pleasure and by the sounds of things- that Arthur truly had no choice but to overhear- not getting very much back in return. 

“ You know I don’t think I’ve ever met a more selfish woman in my life! “ Arthur sighed and sat down on his cot, debating whether or not to make some attempt to get the sleep he had been planning the entire long journey back to Clemens Point. But his tent was but a stone's throw from Dutch’s. 

“ I have needs too Dutch Van Der Linde!” Everyone else in camp didn’t seem to mind it though, most of them preparing to settle in for the night. Whether that be passing out on their bedrolls or drinking by the fire. But Arthur wasn’t sure he could put up with another moment of the damn yelling. 

“ oh? You have needs? “ Dutch’s voice was condescending. Mocking “ I give you everything! You are acting like a spoiled child”

“ a child? A child!? “ Arthur stood back up again, deciding he’d fare better trying to sleep on the damn ground rather than next to the likes of you and Dutch. So he headed out towards the edge of camp, hiding himself in the woods by the water. He slumped down against a tree with a heavy sigh and wished he’d thought to pick up a bottle of beer on the way. 

But it was no matter. He was far enough away that he couldn’t hear the fighting anymore, but close enough that if he was needed anyone calling his name would be heard. 

He looked out across the water, enjoying his rare moment of peace. It was a clear night and a full moon, the reflection bouncing off the water in the most beautiful way. He pulled out his journal and started to sketch it, wishing he could capture its beauty better. 

‘ Dutch and the girl were arguing again. Got out of earshot for a bit to try catch some sleep. Thought the water and the moon looked mighty pretty ‘ 

He scrawled underneath when he was done, tucking it back into the satchel discarded at his side. Javier's guitar had silenced back in camp now and he figured everyone had gone off to bed. But he was quite content there by the water, so dropped his hat over his face and settled in to try and catch a few hours himself. 

He was just dozing off when he heard the sound of boots marching quickly through the undergrowth, snapping twigs as they went. And then the soft sound of someone mumbling to themselves. He silently hoped whoever it was would keep well away from him. But the boots grew nearer and came to a halt not so far away. The crackle of a match being lit and a heavy sigh. 

“ thinks he can talk to me like that? Bastard. Bastard he is. I’m a lady I deserve better than. Than that “ 

You. 

He cleared his throat lightly to inform you that he was there, but unfortunately still seemed to startle you. 

“ Christ! Gave me a damn heart attack Arthur “ he placed his hat down with his satchel with a sigh and looked up at you. In the light of the moon reflecting off the water he could see your cheeks were tear stained, the glow of the end of your cigarette illuminating your face further and showing your makeup in streaks. 

He couldn’t lie that it made his heart ache for you. He didn’t particularly have any solid feelings for you, but he did feel sorry for you. It was hard not to feel sorry for the woman seduced by Dutch. 

And you truly were a cut above the rest in his opinion. Beautiful as the early morning sun and, when you weren’t screaming at Dutch, as kind and warm as it too. But maybe that was fitting. Because much like the sun you could bask people in warmth, but burn them too. Beautiful and bright but scalding and he found he couldn’t look at you for too long, no matter how many times he wanted too. Simply blinding his eyes with your flaming beauty and having to turn away. 

But maybe he was just getting caught up in his metaphors. 

“ shouldn’t be out this far from camp “ you simply shrugged, taking another drag of your cigarette “ ain’t no one nice lingerin’ in woods at night miss” even if no Lemoyne raiders were sneaking around the trees, there were plenty of species of wildlife that would happily do a number on you. Chew off a leg or bite you with poison fangs. You didn’t know how to take care of yourself. You couldn’t handle a gun, didn’t have a single survival instinct in you. 

Dutch had quite made sure of that, he’d heard you ask once or twice. And had been denied. Charming you with some string of words about how you were far too delicate to be handling a gun. To leave it for the men. 

“ you’re lingering in the woods aren’t you Mr Morgan? “ he chuckled and shrugged. 

“ and I ain’t that nice. Point proven lady “ 

“ not like Dutch would care if someone took me anyway. He’d probably be thankful “ your voice was hoarse from the shouting and he couldn’t tell if you were going to cry again or not. You took a long drag of your cigarette before seeming to suddenly remember something, dipping your hand into the waistband of your skirt and pulling out a pack “ sorry my manners. Want one? “ he took one with a nod of thanks “ can I sit? “

You sat down carefully beside him then with a long sigh, tucking your legs beneath you, and leant forward so he could light the cigarette between his lips with the end of yours. 

“ thanks “ you both sat quietly for a short while. Smoking and watching the ripples in the water. He didn’t mind it actually, as much as he had been slightly annoyed at you disturbing his attempt to sleep. You were decent company. 

You rarely strayed from Dutch’s side, but on the odd occasion you had and Arthur had stumbled upon you having a moment to yourself at the edge of camp it had been quite nice. So he didn’t mind sitting there with you, company. For you both. 

“ I think you’re nice. By the way “ you said to break the silence, refrenching his previous comment of bad men lingering in the woods. 

“ No offense to you Miss, but you’re in love with old Dutch. I don’t think you’re particularly qualified to be sayin’ whether folk is nice or not “ he said it teasingly in some hopes of making you smile. And it did. A little. 

“ maybe not “ he watched you bring your cigarette to your lips again, glancing at your hands. Nails perfectly trimmed and not a single speck of dirt or sign of a scar. Hands that had never had to lift a finger. Ever. It was an interesting contrast to his own. Calloused and scarred and bruised “ but Dutch he… he…Can I ask you something? “ 

“ Sure “ he said and flicked his cigarette away. 

“ Do you think I’m beautiful Arthur? “ you asked meekly. Your face was sad. Lingering innocence yet to be wiped away by life somehow, the kind that only remained because you had lived a life so sheltered. Even with Dutch you were as sheltered as could be “ and don’t lie. Please “

“ I think you’re beautiful, sure “ you turned back to the water again, tossing your own cigarette before promptly lighting another. 

“ Dutch doesn’t. Not anymore. Barely even looks at me “ Arthur ran a hand over his face, not entirely sure what he was supposed to say to you in the situation. At all “ I know I know I don’t expect you to agree. You two you’re…you’re like two peas in a pod aren’t you? “ you said with a small laugh, but it held no humour. You took a long drag of your cigarette. 

“ me and Dutch it’s… we go back a long way. But… I will agree the way he’s been treatin’ you. Ain't nice. Not when you done nothin’ but be loyal to him for so long “ you turned back to him again and gave a small smile. It was like a wave of relief had washed right over you. 

Someone was finally listening. 

“ I think he’s got his eyes on Mary-Beth “ you mumbled, red stained lips wrapping around your cigarette again. Much like how he had found himself admiring your hands he now found himself admiring your lips. Soft and plump and stained red in the way they often were. 

He blamed it on his fatigue. 

“ he’d be a fool to give you up. You’re kind, loyal, hell you might jus’ be the most beautiful woman I know. He’s in a weird place right now. He’ll snap outta it, be back to readin’ you Evelyn Miller in no time. You’ll see “ maybe the last part wasn’t entirely true. But the first part was. And you seemed to bask in his compliments. He wondered when the last time Dutch had said something nice to you had actually been. 

“ Thank you “ you looked as though you might cry again. And he really hoped you wouldn’t. He didn’t like to see you cry. And he really wouldn’t know what to say to you then. Once again you turned your attention back to the water and gave a small sigh “ maybe I chose the wrong outlaw “ you said with a small laugh “ always have thought you were quite handsome “ 

He nearly choked on his own saliva, clearing his throat in hopes to pass it out smoothly. He didn’t know if it had worked. 

“ Really? “ 

“ Hmm “ you mused, tilting your head inquisitively to the side “ but you were oh so hung up on that Mary girl when I found Dutch”

“ Yeah well. Mary she’s- that’s all done with now “ maybe Mary was the reason he seemed to sympathise with you so. Because he too had had a broken heart. Though he was sure his was not as brutal as yours. 

“ Guess we both have bad taste don’t we Mr Morgan “ he chuckled and nodded. 

“ That we do miss. That we do “ he placed a gentle hand to your shoulder and squeezed in some form of comfort “ don’t worry bout Dutch though. Really. He’ll come to his senses and if…if he don’t then. Any man would be lucky to have ya “ you sniffled and he figured you’d started crying again “ I didn’t mean to upset- “

“ No. No I’m fine. It’s just…you mean it all don’t you? All these kind words? “ he shrugged and then nodded. 

“ Sure I do. You’re a beautiful woman. Inside an out “ something seemed to flash across your face, a million and one things whirring away behind your eyes. He’d never been that good at reading people, never one for knowing what people were thinking. And the look on your face was the most confusing he’d ever seen. 

The next part happened far too quickly for him to process it. Maybe because he was tired, maybe because he truly hadn’t even slightly suspected you to do it. You flicked away the butt of your cigarette and leaned forward, one hand to his leg and the other to his neck. And kissed him. 

He was taken aback and you pulled away before he could make any attempt to figure out what you’d just done. 

“ Sorry “ you sighed in slight annoyance, seemingly at yourself, sitting back beside him again. Like it was no big deal. Just something that had happened and had no real consequence “ shit- sorry “ Arthur scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and shrugged with a small laugh. Attempting to play it as cool as you clearly were. 

Maybe he’d finally cracked and entered some weird fatigue induced psychosis, hallucinations and hearing voices. And kissing Dutch’s woman. 

“ S’okay. No harm done “ he was bewildered. Trying to process the last 30 seconds and coming up completely blank. 

“ Just the way you talk about me I- Lord forgive me “ he was certain he must have looked half dense. Still completely confused at what on earth was happening with you. And maybe, just maybe, a tiny bit flustered at having a woman like you kiss him. Even if you were begging the Lord for forgiveness right after it “ no one’s spoken to me like that in a long time and…and I wish they had. I want to be told I’m beautiful again. I want to be kissed. I want I want…I want a lot of things “ 

Maybe Arthur was a stupid, idiotic fool. Maybe too many gunshot wounds and bumps to the head had finally caught up to him. Maybe he too wanted to act on his ever growing annoyance with how Dutch was behaving. But he found himself reaching out, fingers tucking under your chin to turn your face to look at him. Your eyes were so beautiful up close. Practically sparkling in the moonlight.

Oh he was such a fool. 

“ could’a jus’ asked “ a small smile tugged at your lips and you laughed a little. 

“ Yeah. Of course. Because you’d have said yes Arthur? “ he shrugged. He didn’t know if he would’ve actually. But now the thought was in his head “ alright “ you whispered and shuffled a little closer to him “ indulge me “ 

His thumb was absentmindedly brushing over your jaw, looking at you in the light of the moon and wondering how on earth Dutch wasn’t constantly begging for your attention. If he had a woman like you constantly hanging off his every word he wouldn’t know how to act. Would be like a mangy dog trailing around after you for food.  

“ I might’ve “ you gave a roll of your eyes but you were smiling still, a beautiful, tempting smile.

You were a temptress. A siren. Luring him in with your beauty to do something terrible. And you were vulnerable. Sad and seeking appreciation. And he was truly debating it. 

“ Well…“ you started quietly, looking up at him through your long lashes in a way that made his chest go tight “ there is… still time for you to say yes “ 

“ we ain’t gonna tell no one bout this y’hear? This it’s… it’s jus’ between me and you. Okay? “ your eyebrows furrowed for a second looking up at him intently, as if trying to figure out if he was joking or not. If he was serious. He wasn’t entirely sure himself, needed you to agree or disagree to put the thought to rest.  His thumb continued to brush along your jaw tenderly and your eyes fell closed for a moment. 

How long had it been since someone had touched you with such care? That something as simple as that seemed to mean so much to you. 

“ I understand “ you whispered, eyes flickering down to his lips again. He pulled you in close, barely an inch between your lips and then spoke again “ you’ll give me what I want? Don’t treat me like him “ 

“ Anythin’ ya want. You got it. I’ll give ya what you deserve “ you let a shuddering breath escape and gave a small nod before closing the gap between you both again. 

He hadn’t kissed anyone in a while, but he sure found his footing quickly. You kissed him like he was your source of air, climbing your way into his lap and slipping your hands into his hair. You tasted of cigarette smoke and something almost sweet. Whatever it was, it was an intoxicating mix. You were like a siren singing your call in his ear, drawing him in and taking him for your own. The weight of you in his lap was almost familiar, welcoming. Just… nice. 

He had almost forgotten just how fun it was to kiss a woman. How so many men seemed to shun it as boring, pointless- Dutch obviously included. But Arthur had always loved it. Had spent many a night as a youngster sneaking his way into Mary’s room just to kiss her. To spend hours kissing and talking and kissing some more. 

Kissing you was something else. Addictive. Intoxicating. 

Eventually he had to pull away, his lungs screaming at him for air. Your hands slipped out from his hair and down to grasp at the collar of his shirt, resting your forehead on his. 

“ Anything I want you say? “ you asked quietly, breathless. 

“ Anythin’ “ you smiled and lifted your head, a quiet determination settling over you. Your lipstick had smeared and he wondered how much of it was now on his own face. 

“ okay… undress me then “ you softly commanded, shifting slightly in his lap “ please. Dutch never- he makes me do it myself, barely even looks I- Please “ 

He almost laughed to himself about now he immediately thought getting you naked was entirely too risky. As if the entire situation alone wasn’t risky anyway. But he didn’t want to think too hard about that, instead simply channelled his recent annoyance towards Dutch into his actions. Tried to tell himself he was doing a good thing, taking care of you. 

You watched his face carefully as he gently untucked your shirt from where it was tucked into your skirt, some silky soft thing that probably cost more than everything he owned in his clothing trunk put together. He undid every pearl button slowly, eyes darting up to your face as he did. Your chest was heaving in long, heavy breaths. You were nervous. Or excited. He couldn’t tell which. 

You shivered lightly when he pushed it from your shoulders, now only the soft cotton of your chemise between his hands and your chest. Your nipples had hardened, from the slight night chill or lust he couldn’t say. But he found himself unable to resist the sight, leaning forward and capturing one between his lips through the cotton. You gasped softly, a sound so beautiful it made him groan. You sounded delicate. Innocent. You’d never made such sounds when he’d overheard you with Dutch. In fact a majority of the time you almost sounded in pain. 

But this sound wasn’t that. This sound was beautiful. And he wanted to hear more. One hand pushed at your back to bring you closer, the other palmed at your neglected breast in hopes you’d make the sound again. And you did. Gentle, soft gasps as his tongue dampened the material of your chemise, teeth tugging at you gently through the material. Your hand found his hair again, raking your fingers through it and arching your back into his touch. 

He couldn’t imagine why Dutch had never wanted to do such a thing. How could he not want to hear you make those pretty pretty sounds? How could he not want to feel you writhing in his lap and yearning to be touched. Maybe Dutch was more of a fool than he had originally thought. 

“ Need you to touch me- properly I- take this off “ your sentence was choppy, like you weren’t focussed enough to truly articulate the words you wanted to say. But he understood, pulling your chemise over your head and dropping it to land with your shirt. 

He took a moment just to look at you, not even entirely because he knew you’d want him to. Just because he wanted to. He’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t wondered what was hiding under your expensive clothes once or twice. How could he not when he had to try sleep through the sounds of you and Dutch of a night. 

“ God damn “ he said softly, hands soothing over your waist as you basked in his admiring stare, taking in the feeling of finally being looked at. Properly. 

“ like what you see Mr Morgan “ you asked, voice sultry and low in a way that made his cock twitch in his pants. 

“ Dutch is a damn fool “ is all he could say, leaning forward to kiss you again, his hands moving to grab at your chest. You moaned into the kiss as he squeezed and massaged your breasts with his large hands, seizing the opportunity to dip his tongue into the warmth of your mouth. Your fingers in his hair, twisting strands around your fingers and tugging lightly. He felt like he was on cloud nine. Certain he’d somehow taken a stumble through the veil and ended up at heaven's gates. 

He wasn’t a particularly religious man, but the way he was prepared to worship and praise you could truly be considered blasphemous. 

He couldn’t resist the temptation of getting his mouth on you again much longer, dragging his lips from yours and wrapping them around a pebbled nipple instead. You rolled your hips against him, those beautiful soft moans still falling past your lips. This was what you had wanted from him. To be worshipped. To be looked at as the beautiful temptress of a woman you were. And not merely glanced at and then used like some two dollar whore in a saloon. 

He wanted to nip at your skin, bite and soothe it with his tongue. But he knew he couldn’t. Couldn’t risk Dutch seeing it if he felt the need to stop ignoring you for a short while for his own needs. But oh how he wanted to. To mark up your smooth skin with reminders that you were desired. That you could look at as they faded and be reminded that you were wanted. 

“ I need more “ you whispered “ Arthur please. Give me more “ another roll of your hips followed by a small whimper told him enough. 

“ I know I got ya “ he murmured against your skin, pressing kisses up your sternum and your neck. Nose brushing at the underside of your jaw and working his way back to your lips again “ stand up. Lemme get you out of these damn clothes “ he caught the smile on your face as you stood up, he stayed seated and ran his hands over the fabric covering your hips. Something seemed to blaze in your eyes as you looked down on him. He realised it was most probably you that was usually being leered down on, but not now. 

Not with him. Not with Arthur. Arthur looked up at you like the goddess you were, looked up at you with what he knew was a silent pleading in his eyes. Dutch would never ask he knew it. Dutch took. Stole. Used. Arthur didn’t. Wouldn’t. 

“ I like how you look at me “ you said quietly, hand soothing over his hair “ you make me feel beautiful “

“ Cause y’are “ he murmured, hands reaching to the ties of your skirt. He wanted to see more. Wanted to see all of you. 

You helped him with the slightly tedious task of getting your skirts and undergarments off, but all so slowly. Taking his time. Making sure he appreciated every single layer of clothing you removed for him, right down to unlacing your boots and holding your leg gently to help you out of them. Until you stood there as naked as the day you were born, illuminated by the moonlight on the water. 

“ well ain’t you a sight “

Your skin was so smooth. Soft. Not a single scar that he could see. The skin of a woman who had never had to lift a finger. Had never known the hardships that he had. The only true blemish on your skin was the almost completely faded bruises on your hips. Fingertips. Dutch. 

He soothed his hands up your legs, pressing soft kisses to the pillowy flesh of your thighs as he went, and stopped as he reached them. 

“ He can be a little rough. It’s how he likes it “ you answered before he could even ask. Arthur too had been known to have his rougher moments. But he could never hurt you. Never mark you in anyway other than that of affection and care. 

“ I ain’t like that “ 

“ I know. That’s why I want you “ he pulled you back down into his lap, his large hands splaying over your hips as he took yet another moment just to look. To admire. To thank whatever stupid damn God may exist for placing such a heavenly body in his presence “ I feel a little like the odd one out here though “ you said with a small smile, tracing a finger down from the open top buttons of his shirt to his pants. 

He’d been far too occupied with you to even really notice the fact that he was ridiculously overdressed in comparison. 

“ Can’t have that now can we darlin’ “ your smile grew and you made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders with a gentle sigh. You ran your fingers through the hair on his chest, nails scratching lightly at his skin and peppering lipstick stained kisses as you went. Littering his collarbones, his sternum.

“ much better “ your hands kept roaming and your lips kept kissing. Hands seemingly wanting to touch him all, scratching lightly up his sides and over his waist, his stomach and his ribs. Slowly moving to slide over his shoulders and loop around his neck. You rolled your hips against him again and whined softly. He was so hard it was growing painful as he stayed restrained by his pants. But he wasn’t selfish. Not like Dutch. And he wasn’t about to seek out any form of pleasure himself until he had you seeing the stars you deserved. 

“ tell me what y’want “ he murmured, peppering soft kisses across your jaw. 

“ touch me “ you sighed blissfully “ please touch me “ 

His hand slipped down in between your bodies, brushing past the soft curls between your legs and couldn’t contain the groan of a sound that left him when he felt how warm and wet you were. 

“ Christ “ he muttered as your head dropped to his shoulder with a shuddering breath “ he ever touch you like this? “ he asked lowly, already knowing the answer. Why would he? He didn’t get anything out of it. 

But Arthur did. Oh Arthur did. 

“ no “ you whispered “ no never…please. More “ he tested the waters, pressing lightly against your clit and revelling in the squeak of a sound that it caused you to make. 

“ or like this? " You shook your head again, breathing shakily as he dragged his finger through the wetness and drew light circles around your entrance. 

“ Arthur “ you moaned his name in the most delicious way as he pushed his finger inside, burying it to the knuckle 

“ yeah and what about this darlin? “ he again knew the answer. Dutch didn’t care about your pleasure. Didn’t care about wasting time on something as simple as making you whimper and whine for more “ he touch you like this? “ 

“ no “ 

“ think ya can take one more for me? “ you nodded again and he withdrew his finger, gathering your slick on his other before pushing them both past the resistance of your entrance “ that’a girl “ he pumped his fingers in and out steadily, curling and probing at your velvety soft walls to test what you liked. 

“ This is so… oh god. This isn’t proper at all “ you laughed slightly, melting into a soft moan. Arthur chuckled, lifting your face up so you’d look at him. 

“ Ain’t proper at all? It’s damn right filthy darlin” your cheeks were aflame and you closed your eyes for a moment, grinding yourself against his hand “ look at ya. Drippin all over ma fingers like that. Ain’t proper. Not one bit “ you smiled, a cheeky, devious smile that made him lean forward and kiss you again. 

You were so wet it was obscene. He couldn’t tell where the sounds of you kissing stopped and the sopping sounds of his fingers began. You continued to grind down against his palm, practically riding his fingers, his whole hand wet and sticky with you. 

And he wanted to taste it. To taste you. To flood his mouth with the slick, liquid gold covering his fingers. It was an almost primal desire, like a desperation as strong as needing air. He needed to. He had to. 

“ Darlin’ “ he murmured, lifting your head from where it had fallen to his neck again “ gotta let me taste you. You gotta “ the look on your face only made him want it more. Your skin flushed and eyes blown out with nothing but pure lust and desire. He’d never needed anything more. Nothing else mattered, not the painful hardness in his pants, not the realisation that you were very much Dutch’s girl. He didn’t care about any of that. He just needed to be between your thighs. 

“ really? No one’s ever- oh god. Yes. Yes. Please Arthur “ he withdrew his fingers making you whimper and quickly grabbed his discarded shirt and lay it down on the ground. Then he kissed you again as he wrapped his arms around your waist, gently turning you to lay back on the shirt. It still couldn’t have been particularly comfortable. But you didn’t seem to mind, tugging at his hair and lifting your hips up against him as he hovered over you. 

He took his time moving down. Leaving a long and slow trail of hot, wet, kisses on your skin. You writhed underneath him, whining softly and twisting your hands in his shirt underneath you. He took extra time with your thighs. Kissing up from the inside of your knee and stopping before he could place his mouth where he really wanted to, then repeating with the other. 

“ Arthur “ you whined, still squirming around and desperate. 

“ I know. I got ya. Gonna make those pretty sounds for me again yeah? "You nodded, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him as his head sank lower, spreading your legs wider to give him full access to the centre of you “ that’s a good girl “ he spread you open with his fingers, in awe of the way you parted for him. Like petals on a flower, dripping with the morning dew. 

But you were far more delectable. A forbidden fruit begging to be tasted. 

And oh was it pretty. Even in the dark, in nothing but the light of the moon on the water, it was pretty. Begging to be tasted, touched. Admired. 

The sound you made as he dragged his tongue from your weeping hole to your clit was like music to his ears. He didn’t know how he managed to not come in his pants just at the sound of it. 

You still kept it quiet, but loud enough for him. 

His own, deep, guttural moan escaped from his chest as he licked again. Your taste flooding his mouth in a way so so much better than he could’ve imagined. 

He ate you like he was starved. Like a savage predator that hadn’t seen meat for days, like a man ready for the gallows enjoying his last meal. His arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping your legs apart for him as you bucked and squirmed against his face. It was visceral. Carnal. You made him feel like his grip on his own composure and control was weaker than ever, that he was holding on to it with nothing but his fingertips. 

“ Arthur “ he dipped his tongue into the welcoming warmth of your cunt, his eyes falling closed for a moment as he felt you clench around him, desperate for more. Desperate for him. And he would give you more, would give you anything you asked of him. But not until he made you come first. 

He let go of one of your legs and brought his fingers back to their previous position, wanting to feel you again. To be inside of you, as close as he could get. To make you see stars. 

The flat of his tongue found your clit again, certain he could feel you pulsing against him. Desperate and full of desire for him. He felt honoured, privileged. That you were so loyal to Dutch, glued to his side. Never even batting an eye at anyone else. And yet you had broken that for him. Had sought him out because you knew he would treat you well. 

Your back arched off the ground as he sunk them back into you, slipping in with a welcome ease. His thick fingers pumped into you at a steady pace, his tongue diverting all its attention to your clit. Lapping and sucking and letting you press his face harder against you as you tugged on his hair. 

“ don’t stop please dont- Arthur “ he had no intentions of stopping, none at all. In fact he simply honed in on his ministrations, working harder to push you closer and closer to the edge of the orgasm he knew you had been craving for weeks. 

“ Not gonna stop darlin. Ain’t stopping until you come for me. Taste so good, so good “ he murmured against you, curling his fingers and hitting a spot that made you gasp and your body shudder “ there we go, right there “ 

He flicked his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves, looking at you as best he could to gauge your reaction. You were pulling a little painfully at his hair, squirming and rolling your hips against his face. He let you do it. Let you be the one using a man for your pleasure, rather than being the one used for once. 

Your sounds were sinful. Melodic. He took it all in. Basked in the noises you made for him, the delicious taste of you on his tongue, drunk on you. On your taste. Your smell. 

“ Arthur- Arthur please I- “ you babbled, a slightly smug smile working its way onto his face as he watched your prim and proper facade melt away “ don’t stop “ 

He hummed an assurance that he wouldn’t, your hips bucking against his face as he did. You were so unbelievably wet, dripping out around his fingers and soaking the hair of his beard. He would never have thought it of you. The way you held yourself around camp, so poised and prim. The accent when you spoke that made everyone else around you sound so common. And yet there you were. On your back in the woods, chasing an orgasm being offered to you by an outlaw. Repeating his name like a mantra. 

And not even that of the outlaw you were in love with.

“ Arthur- “

Only seconds later it happened. You held a hand over your mouth as your orgasm hit you, muffling your choked moans, back arching off the ground and walls clamping down on his fingers as he worked you through it. Tongue still working diligently at your clit until you pushed your hand at his head, squirming away a little. 

He almost didn’t want to stop. Could’ve happily stayed there a while longer, but moved back, an obscene wet sound in the late night silence as he withdrew his fingers. 

He took his fingers to his mouth, sucking the remnants of your climax onto his tongue. Unable to control himself. You watched him do it, mouth slightly agape and eyes half open with some desperate undeniable look of utter desire. He could almost see the way it made you feel, could see you unable to contain the overwhelming feeling of realising you were desired. Wanted. 

“ God. You are unbelievable “ you whispered, pushing yourself up onto your elbows and grabbing at his arm. Your fingers looped around his wrist and tugged his hand towards your own mouth. He shook his head with a chuckle, slightly in awe as you took those same two fingers between your red lips. 

Your tongue swirled between his digits, plush lips wrapping around them and sucking. Your eyes locked on his as you did. It made his cock ache. He wanted your lips on him, wanted your tongue swirling around his length and milking him dry. He could imagine it if he thought hard enough. The way you hummed slightly in appreciation as you sucked his fingers clean, sent vibrations straight through his bones. Rattling him to the core. But he would never ask that of you. But the thought was one he would hold onto. It made him shift slightly. 

“ you ain’t so prim and proper lady “ he murmured as he withdrew his fingers, a string of saliva connecting his fingertips and your lips “ This ain’t very proper of you miss “ Arthur said with a small smile, teasing “ rollin’ around in the dirt with the likes of me “ 

“ Oh to hell with being proper if it means I get to feel like this “ you said with a small laugh and he kissed you again for what felt like the millionth time. He wondered if you could taste yourself on his lips, smell the heady delicious smell of you on his beard.

He would’ve been more than happy to leave it at that. No matter how badly he wanted to sheath himself inside you and stay there for eternity. His goal had been your pleasure and he had achieved it. 

But as he kissed you your hands began working at the buckle of his gun belt, opening it with a skilled ease that made him pull back. 

“ Darlin’ you ain’t gotta do that- “

“ shush “ you pushed at him lightly so you could sit up and went to work on the buttons on his pants next “ I want to. I- Arthur take them off “ he made far quicker work of his own clothes than he had of yours and you leant back on your elbows to watch him. 

You looked like a pinup girl. Like something he’d seen drawn come to life. Your eyes seemed hungry as you looked at him, dragging down his body and lingering on his rock hard cock. He was practically throbbing with want, the tip an angry shade of pink and leaking precum slightly embarrassingly “ come here. Please. Back down here “ 

He did as he was asked, crawling back over your body as you eyed him greedily. 

“ We really don’t…I mean, If y’don’t wanna- “ his words stuck in his throat as your fingers wrapped around the length of him with a small sigh. 

“ I want you to I just…can I ask one thing? “ he couldn’t get the word yes to escape his mouth, your fingers squeezing him softly in a way that made him see flashes of white in his vision. So he simply nodded “ don’t fuck me. Dutch fucks me, make love to me “ you seemed a little embarrassed at the request. But he didn’t think it was embarrassing. In fact he had had no plans to use you as brutally as Dutch. He was almost a little offended you thought he might. 

“ Told you, anythin’ you want. You got it “ you smiled softly and pressed another kiss to his lips before laying back down again. He positioned himself over you, caging your head in between his arms. And it truly was incredibly intimate. He wondered when the last time you had had such intimacy was. If you’d ever received such a thing from Dutch. 

He spat on his hand and grabbed a hold of his sensitive cock, stroking himself a couple of times to get himself slick. Not that he really needed to, you were already wetter than he’d ever known a woman to be. But the last thing he wanted was your discomfort. He lined himself up with you, eyes trained on your face as he dragged his weeping tip between your folds. You gasped as he caught your clit, still sensitive and alert from your first orgasm. 

“ Arthur please “ you whimpered rolling your hips up against him, so desperate to have him inside of you. 

“ So God damn wet for me “ he murmured “ such a good girl ain’t ya? “ you whined in answer, fingers wrapping around what you could of his bicep and digging your perfectly trimmed nails into his skin “ gonna make you feel so good I promise darlin’ jus’ like you deserve yeah? “ you whispered out a yes and brought your other hand to the back of his neck. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, still running his cock along the length of your slit. Teasing. 

“ Keep looking at me. Please look at me Arthur “ he continued to do as asked. Again. Though his eyes had barely strayed from your face anyway “ I need you so badly “ Eyes locked on yours, he finally pushed into you, he took it slow. Letting you take it inch by inch, watching the look of ecstasy wash over your face. Your eyes fell closed. 

He fought to retain his own composure, overwhelmed by the tight, wet, warmth of your walls enveloping him. He could feel every unique ridge and bump that made your cunt oh so perfect, feel every muscle stretch and contract as you adjusted to him. 

“ god- oh god “ 

“ shh shh easy there. I got ya “ he paused once he was seated inside of you, grabbing at your hip with one hand to angle your hips better. Allowing you to comfortably take all of him in. He waited, let you adjust to his size, not daring to move before he got the go ahead from you “ there you go, look at you, takin’ all of me like that. So good f’me “ you basked in his praise, a dopey kind of smile spreading across your face.

“ so much bigger than him “ you whispered with a small laugh and Arthur couldn’t help the smug smile on his face. Kissing you and touching you and making you come on his tongue had been one thing. But having you like this? Having his cock buried to the hilt inside of you, so unbelievably close together. And to then be told that? To know he was about to do you better than Dutch ever had. Ever could. It felt like the biggest fuck you to the man that had been not only mistreating him of late, but also the goddess of a woman beneath him “ I’m good. You can move. Please move “ 

He didn’t need telling twice. Pulling out almost completely and thrusting back in in one smooth motion. The pace he fell into was just as you’d asked. Loving. Tender. But hard and deep, making sure his hips were flush with yours with every stroke. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulled his face back down to kiss him again. 

If anyone had spotted you they’d have easily mistaken you both for a lovesick couple having a private moment to yourselves. The entire thing intimate and passionate. No one would assume it was an affair in motion, hidden away in the woods by the shoreline in fear of your lover finding the pair of you there. 

But it was what you wanted. What you had needed. And he felt privileged to provide. 

He pulled back from your lips to watch you again, enthralled by the way your face relaxed and twisted in the pleasure he was providing you. You continued to spill those angelic sounds from your throat, growing breathier and higher pitch as he continued to drag his cock against the sopping, sensitive heat of your cunt. He had to focus hard not to finish in seconds. So much build up paired with being practically celibate for months was truly doing him no favours, but he focussed. He wasn’t letting this end until you came once more. You deserved it. 

“ Keep those pretty eyes on me “ he murmured as they fell closed again “ that’s it darlin’, look at me there ya go “ everytime he spoke the slightest word of praise you practically beamed, so desperate to hear it. To be told you were good. Beautiful. So different to Dutch constantly yelling at you about how annoying you were, how much your mere presence bothered him these days. So he kept it up. 

“ Doin’ so well for me. This pussy it’s perfect, ain’t that right? C’mon tell me “ he urged, still fighting off his ever looming orgasm. The sounds alone was enough to make him want to burst. Sweat slicked skin on skin, the wet sounds of your cunt dripping around the swollen intrusion of him. And those sweet sweet moans of yours. 

“ yes “ you whimpered “ it’s perfect “ 

“ That’s a good girl “ he increased his pace ever so slightly and your hands slipped from his arms to his back, dragging your nails down him to try to pull him impossibly closer to you. 

He moved a hand down between your bodies, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, grunting and choking back his own moans as you squeezed him. Like your body never wanted him to leave, gripping his cock with your cunt and making it ever more harder to hold back. He couldn’t help but have a look, glancing down to see the way you stretched around him, mesmerised at the way you took him in so deep. 

“ tell me I- oh. Tell me I’m beautiful “ you whimpered, sounding almost like you might cry. From pleasure, from upset. He didn’t know. But he continued to do as asked. 

“ you’re beautiful “ he murmured picking up his pace a little more, his sweat slick skin slapping against yours. He was desperate to see you come again. Wanted to see your face up close this time, watch your eyes roll back and your kiss swollen lips part in ecstasy “ so beautiful darlin. Doin’ so well f’me, takin’ me so well “ 

“ don’t stop, don't stop “ he dropped his head to your neck whispering every word of praise he could think of into your ear, your body arching up against his and whimpering and whining with every word. 

“ ain’t ever looked prettier than this “ he whispered, his own voice becoming breathless with the effort “ shit- look at ya, takin’ my cock so well. So pretty darlin’ “ 

Your second orgasm seemed to shock you as much as him, clawing at his skin to hold him close as your body trembled beneath him, biting at his shoulder to muffle your moans. 

He didn’t mean to finish inside of you, had fully intended to pull out. But the way your cunt had squeezed him, the sounds you had made as he pushed you over the edge for the second time.

He muffled his own groan of pleasure in your neck, fingers digging into the dry earth beneath you, spilling load after load whilst fully sheathed inside of you. His entire body tensed, a pleasure he hadn’t felt in an incredibly long time. His heart was hammering in his chest, blood rushing loudly in his ears as it seemed to drag on forever. 

And then he came to his senses. 

“ m’sorry. Shit. Sorry “ he panted as he tried to compose himself and pushed himself up onto his hands to pull out. But you yanked him back down, arms wrapping around his back again and legs tightening around his waist. 

“ no. Please. Stay. Stay right there. Just a moment would you “ he had come to realise in the past.. how long had you two even been out there? However long it was, he’d come to realise he was terrible at saying no to you. Could never possibly even dream to deny you of anything you wanted from him. And so he slumped back down onto his forearms, dropping his head against your shoulder for a moment. Your chest heaved beneath him and you caught your breath, fingers tracing gentle strokes along his spine. He felt he could stay there for hours. 

“ You doin’ okay? “ he asked, pressing a light kiss to your jaw when he had composed himself a little more. 

“ marvellous Mr Morgan “ you whispered with a small smile “ truly. Marvellous “ he couldn’t help but kiss you again, the long lingering kind meant for two lovers. 

After a few minutes you both finally moved, re dressing in silence and then sitting back in your original position against the tree. He handed you a cigarette, lighting it and placing it between your lips. 

He wondered what he looked like. Wondered what evidence you had left on him. Had he sweated off the lipstick prints on his chest or were they still there? He knew you had scratched his back up good and proper and would have that reminder there for a few days at least. 

“ Thank you. Mr Morgan '' you said quietly after a few silent moments of smoking, blowing out a long stream of smoke “ I mean it I- i'm not sure what I’m supposed to say “ 

“ Don’t say anythin’ “ he said with a small wave of his hand, appearing as blaise as he possibly could but in reality knowing he wasn’t about to forget that night anytime soon “ its fine. Really. Anytime y’need me, for anythin’, you know where I’ll be “ you smiled and he watched your body relax a little more. 

“ you know, i might just take you up on that “ 

He sincerely hoped you would. 

[transmunsons]

Steve Harrington had known for a while that he was on thin ice. His parents let him change his hair and clothes and name after a harrowing night that ended with him in a hospital bed.

So he tried to behave. They couldn’t complain as long as he played the perfect son. He did everything right. He excelled at sports, he didn’t make a fuss, he even fell in love with a wonderful girl.

Though, things got a little rocky when his dealer left town and handed things over to the local freak show. When he went to pick up his bottles, Loudmouth Munson tried to get under his skin.

“Y’know I always had a feeling you were doping.” Munson said, leaning against the picnic table.

“Would you just hand it over?” Steve held out his hand for the containers Munson was keeping hostage.

“This is a lot, Harrington, you’d think Hawkins would have actually won a championship by now with you on this stuff.”

Steve resisted the urge to rip it from his hands. Munson grinned an insufferable smile, like he enjoyed how much Steve was glaring at him.

“I’m not taking it because of basketball,” Steve said.

“So why then?”

“I don’t have to tell you shit.”

“Dude,” Munson raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. Call it fair play. Didn’t think you’d be so sensitive about it.”

Steve’s hands were still itching to grab it. Munson seemed to notice how antsy he was, following his anxious gaze flickering between the package and Munson’s face.

“Don’t ya trust me, Harrington?” He said.

“Not even a little,” Steve replied. He felt a tendon jump in his jaw.

“Can’t handle the thought of not having your steroids? Some people actually need these hormones to survive, rich boy.” Munson’s tone switched from teasing to something more somber, or maybe bitter. It was hard for him to tell those things.

Under normal circumstances he would have never said what he ended up saying. Munson had a way of pushing his buttons.

“I need them.” Steve watched an ant crawl around a knot in the wood in front of him. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand. Nobody in this town would understand.”

Steve looked up at a shocked Eddie Munson and held out a handful of bills. “Give me my drugs, take your money, and don’t tell fucking anybody about this. You got it?”

Eddie didn’t move for a long moment, carefully studying Steve and his outstretched hand. His rings flashed as he pushed the package over to Steve’s side of the table and grabbed the money in one swift movement.

“‘Course, Harrington. You get dealer-dealee confidentiality just like everybody else.”

Steve was glad the transaction was over. He grabbed his hormones and stood up to leave when Eddie’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“You’re not the only one.”

Eddie looked very serious, dark curls brushing the tops of his furrowed brows. It was a good look on him.

Steve felt his hopes rise. There were others like him in town. But, how could he be sure that Eddie was talking about what he thought he was talking about?

“Munson,” Steve said cautiously, “I don’t think we’re on the same page.”

Eddie, still seated, crossed his arms. “I guess there’s no way to know for sure unless one of us says it plainly, and I’m sure as hell not going to. I don’t want to end up on the news.”

“You don’t trust me?” Steve echoed, quirking up the side of his mouth.

It got a small smile from Munson. “You don’t even know who it is; dealer-dealee confidentiality goes both ways. I can’t go around blabbing about what drugs everybody’s on, I’d alienate my customer base.”

“Then I guess we’re at a standstill.”

Eddie looked at him with a curious expression. “I guess so.”

Steve took a few steps away from the table, leaves crunching under feet, before turning around. He hesitated. Eddie looked at him with those dark brown eyes of his, which didn’t help his resolve.

“Eddie,” the man’s eyebrows raised at the use of his first name. Steve continued, “if you ever feel like blabbing, you know where to find me.”

Eddie stayed quiet for once, the sounds of the woods surrounding the two of them as they lingered.

“Same to you, Steve,” He finally replied.

[mommywandas]

Pretty When You Sleep — W.M

——

Pairing: Dark!WandaMaximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Nights are lot more dangerous than you think.

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, somnophilia, drugging, blood, murder, stalking, mentions of a knives, strap-on.

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: This is a very dark and heavy fic, if you find any of the warnings triggering, please do not read. Happy Halloween! 18+ only. Men dni.

Beta read by @poulengp <3

——

It started off small.

All the shoes you left in a mess by the door now neatly stacked up, laces undone, just so they were easier to slip on. The lamp you'd accidently leave on before falling asleep, being off when you woke up in the morning. Clothes that were dumped on the floor, suddenly folded up in your drawer.

Then it got weirder.

Your purse being filled with fifty dollar bills on the mornings you worried you wouldn't have enough to afford your groceries. Some of your clothes, specifically underwear, going missing. Your phone being in the other room when you woke up. Waking up with different pyjama bottoms on.

As it got worse, you found yourself confiding in your friend. Well, a little more than a friend, but the two of you had never labelled it. The two of you sat in the corner of a local cafe, coffee warming up your hands. It was a cool autumn day, causing you to wrap up in a scarf and fluffy coat. This crimson coloured scarf had suddenly appeared in your closet, right when you needed it. It should have been wrong to wear something that had inexplicably appeared in your home, but it was cold, and what else were you to do?

"It's just getting weird. Even the leftovers in my fridge that were about to be mouldy are being thrown away. I see it in my garbage bag. And you know me, I don't even throw it out until it's literally gone blue."

Erin laughed, "You're quite careless. And disgusting." Yes, you were, but that wasn't the point!

"Shush. I'm actually worried here. I'm starting to think.. no.. no one can be breaking into my apartment every night, I'd wake up and hear them. God, I think I'm going mad." You mumbled, hand gripping tightly around the coffee mug. It reminded you of the time you'd left a cold cup of tea on the side, and had fallen asleep. When you woke up an hour later, the cup was hot, as if it had just been warmed up again.

"You've added another lock to your door, you don't even have a spare key for it. It's impossible for someone to break in. And you live on the top floor. Honey, you've been exhausted recently, it's not uncommon for people to get forgetful. You probably did those things while sleepy." Erin reassured you, placing a hand over yours.

You sighed deeply, downing the last drops of drink you had left, Erin doing the same. "Yeah, you're probably right. It's just.. strange."

—

As you entered your apartment late at night, instead of throwing your keys carelessly on a table, you decided to tuck them in the nightstand by your bed. Just to be safe, even if it was just for your own peace of mind. You jumped into the shower, cracking open the window so the steam could be let out. You lived on the top floor of your block, no one could look in, which was always a good thing because your bathroom got very steamy, recently the ceiling paper even curling at the side from the condensation. Making a mental note to look up the prices for someone to redecorate.

You really needed a shower today, you and Erin had gotten a little.. excited earlier, and it always made you cringe not showering before bed after an evening of sex. Under the warm water, you hummed a song you'd had stuck in your head all day. It was a song you didn't even recognise, in fact you weren't even sure you'd heard it before. All you knew was that it was in a different language, and it was comforting.

Once clean, you felt overwhelmingly tired, it had been a long day, so you decided to go straight to bed after having your usual cup of camomile tea, with two spoons of sugar. Then you got into bed. Before you could doze off though, you decided to read for a bit, opening up your latest novel of your favourite author. It can't have been too exciting though, because you fell asleep before the first chapter was over.

When dawn broke, the early sun breaking through cracks in your window, you stirred, blinking a few times. Something felt strange, like every morning for the past few months. You felt a stickiness between your thighs, and your pyjama bottoms were definitely not the ones you fell asleep in. You stared down at the light blue shorts, eyebrows furrowed. Were you a sleepwalker? No, your past roommates would have told you. Maybe you'd had a really good dream and just forgotten it? Fuck, this was weird.

Deciding there was nothing you could really do about the situation, you got up, opting to take another shower to get rid of the icky feeling.

It was when you were munching on your chocolate flavoured cereal that you heard your phone ping. Automatically, you put your spoon down, picking up the device you so heavily relied upon. It was a text from an unknown number, causing you to frown. Opening it, you saw there was a picture attached to the text. And when you examined it, your blood ran cold.

It was a picture of you, naked in bed. Your body spread out, intimate area completely exposed.

"What the fuck?" You whispered, reading what had come with it.

Unknown number: Three orgasms in one night, that's your record so far.

You didn't know what to think— someone had.. touched you while you were asleep? They broke in and did this to you? You shivered in fear, your shaky hands typing out a response before you could even think about what the police would say if you went to them; to not engage with a dangerous person.

You: Who the fuck is this?

There was no reply. Not when you left for work, not when you arrived home in the evening.

You were rigid with fear. A sensible person would have called the police, or at least called someone like Erin, asked to stay over, but you just couldn't. Every time you were about to dial a number, something inside you made you stop. You couldn't explain it.

So here you were, sat bolt upright on your couch. It was around eleven, and your eyes were growing heavy. Your camomile tea mug now empty, you blinked a few times, just aching to lay down and rest. No, you had to stay up! You had to see who had been breaking into your home. But.. you were so tired, a sudden wave of exhaustion washing over you. Your eyes closed slowly, slumping down and falling into a deep sleep.

—

The next morning the first thing you did was check your phone, seeing if the stranger had replied, and they had. Two images attached to a message. And what you saw horrified you. The first picture, one of you in bed, with a.. strap-on, buried inside you. It made you feel sick, that someone had done this to you unwillingly. Though the expression on your face, clearly asleep but pleasure in your features. You could even see your own arousal dripping down the toy.

The second image quite literally made you throw up, You ran to the bathroom, heaving into the toilet bowl as the picture burned in your mind. It had been someone laying on a floor, covered in blood, a knife wedged in their chest.

You had to go to the police. There was no choice now. For some reason, you looked back at the picture, and your mouth dropped open. That someone was a familiar.

It was Erin.

You just knew, it was her jacket, her brown eyes wide open in fear, her blue dyed hair drenched in her own blood. It caused you to throw up again.

—

"I—I think my best friend has been murdered."

You whispered in a shaky voice to a police officer who had sat you down in a cold grey room. After seeing what you'd been sent, not even reading the message that had come with it, you rushed down to the local police station, practically screaming for someone to talk to.

"Why do you suspect this?" He asked in a gruff voice. He didn't seem to be all that serious about the situation, upsetting you even further.

"I've got pictures! And texts!" Your fingers fumbled around your pocket to retrieve your phone, opening your messages app.

It wasn't there.

"So?" The officer prompted, clearly unimpressed.

"It was.. it was right here.." You mumbled, opening every contact you had in case it had magically gotten messed up.

But no, the messages had vanished.

"Look, lady, I think you should go home and get some rest. You look tired. Our minds make things up when we're lacking sleep."

"But—"

"Listen, if something happens, come back in. But for now, you're making empty claims."

Hanging your head down dejectedly, you fought back tears. You knew Erin was dead. You just knew it.

—

Tonight you weren't going to fall asleep. Just to make sure, you downed two mugs of strong coffee instead of your tea. You hated it, but you couldn't risk falling asleep. The intruder— the murderer, was going to break in, you were sure.

The time ticked on. Eleven o'clock, twelve o'clock, one o'clock..

Until your phone buzzed. Dread washed over you. There was no one else who would be making your phone light up at this time of night.

Unknown number: How am I meant to enjoy you when you don't have your tea? You look so pretty when you sleep.

This confused you. Why would they be concerned about what beverage you were drinking? You typed out a response quickly.

You: I'm not scared of you.

It was a stupid thing to say, you knew that really. But the only thing you could think of was to pretend you weren't scared. Maybe that would make them bored and leave you alone. All you could think about what Erin's lifeless body. The blood, god.. all that blood..

Unknown number: See you soon, sweetheart.

Your eyes widened in horror; what the fuck did that mean? This person was on their way? Sickness rose up in your throat, and you ran to your kitchen, grabbing the first sharp object you could find— a medium sized kitchen knife. You clutched it to your chest, running to your bedroom, locking the door and panting heavily. You considered pushing some furniture against the door, but you knew you needed to call the police. Then you realised you'd left your phone in the kitchen.

Fuck! Fuck!

You had put yourself in the worst position possible. But before you could panic over that, you felt a gust of cold air. You frowned, turning around to see the window wide open. You definitely hadn't left it like that before, but it was also impossible for anyone else to have opened it. You lived on the top floor for Christ's sake!

Not knowing what to do first; close the window, get your phone, block the door, or just curl up in a ball and hope it would all just go away. You opted for grabbing your phone. If you could call the police, they'd be on their way, hopefully before your stalker could arrive.

Cautiously unlocking the bedroom door, you stepped out into the hallway. The lights that had previously been on, were off, leaving the whole apartment pitch black apart from the moon shining through the windows and the bedroom light.

Your steps were slow, ears straining to hear anything, but there was silence. The only sound heard was the hammering of your heart in your chest.

Until the silence was broken.

"Seeing you awake is strange. But exciting nonetheless."

The voice came from right behind you. Spinning around in horror, you finally came face to face with the person who had been tormenting you.

"Tormenting? That's a bit harsh, sweetheart."

The woman was dressed in all black, a hood covering most of her face. Light from the bedroom accentuated her figure, but more importantly, the silhouette of a knife and a cloth in her hands.

"W—who are you?" It was an attempt at a shout, maybe to attract the attention of the apartment below you, but your voice could barely manage a squeak.

"I've told you before, baby. You're a forgetful thing when you're asleep, mhm?" She stepped forward, causing you to take a step back.

"You've been taking advantage of me! You've been breaking into my home! You killed.. Erin!" You whispered, backing up against the wall. You had no where to go. You were most likely to die, just like Erin.

"Sweet girl, I'm not going to kill you. I could never hurt you." The woman's voice was almost softer as she approached you, only two feet away now. Was she reading your mind?

"But you killed my friend." The images of Erin's body filled your mind, and how you were going to end up just like her.

"Your 'friend'? Please, she was begging for her own life, not for you to be safe." She let out a cold laugh. "It was so satisfying, the sound of my blade tearing through her flesh and tissue." It almost sounded like she'd gotten pleasure from it

Finally, you got some sense and energy into you as she expressed her fucked up feelings. You let out a shattering scream, "HELP! HELP!"

The woman sighed in disappointment. It took her less than a second to raise the cloth up to your face, covering your nose and mouth. The smell of chemicals was overwhelming. You fought against it, until you couldn't anymore. Body falling limp to the ground.

—

The noise that woke you up was the sound of a squeaking. Your eyes wouldn't open, wondering what was going on. You then felt something inside you, a pressure building up in your lower stomach. What—

Finally, your vision became clearer. You blinked a few times, looking around you. The scene became pretty clear.

The woman was in between your legs, a strap-on buried inside you, just like that photo. The squeaking was the bed as she thrusted into you.

You should have screamed, but the pressure in your abdomen was too intense. You let out a whine, trying to move your tired body, but it was useless. You didn't even want to stop it, it felt too.. good.

"You're awake." She stated, a slight pant in her voice. Her hood was down now, revealing her auburn wavy hair, pale skin and deep green eyes.

"Let me.." You trailed off, because you didn't know whether to say 'go' or 'come'.

She let out a chuckle, holding your hips firmly as she thrusted into you. The feeling was delicious. Something about the fact your body was sleepy, heavy, while being fucked by a woman so dangerous..

No! Why are you thinking like this? It almost felt like your thoughts weren't yours anymore. Were you going insane?

The woman grunted, wet noises filling the room, making it very apparent that your body did not hate this at all. "You can come for me, it'll be your third."

Your third? You couldn't even bring yourself to ask about it, your body just trembled, a pending orgasm taking over, making you whimper in delight.

"Fuck!"

Tears filled your eyes from the sheer pleasure, and the fact that you should have hated this. You were filled with so much shame and guilt. This was the person who had killed your best friend, who'd stripped you of your dignity.

"Shh, darling, you don't have to feel guilty. You're allowed to feel pleasure. And your friend, well, she was just in the way."

Her twisted words made you feel sick again, but you didn't have time to dwell on that because the woman's hand suddenly reached down and started to circle your clit while simultaneously thrusting into you. A loud groan escaped your throat, eyes practically rolling to the back of your head.

"You're going to beat your record, four times will be an achievement." Her accented voice was hot and heavy, turning you on even more.

"I— mhm!" You tried to speak, but you didn't know what to say.

"Let go, detka, show me how good I make you feel." She gripped your waist with her spare hand, red manicured nails digging into your skin.

Without warning, you came hard, spilling all over the strap. The woman moaned, slowing down her thrusts and eventually pulling out, leaving you unbearably empty. She slipped the strap off and went to straddle you, leaning her head down to kiss your neck. You felt utter bliss, forgetting how incredibly fucked up and sick this was.

"Seeing as this is the first time we've met while you've been conscious, I'll introduce myself. I'm Wanda." She giggled, as if nothing had just happened, and had been happening for months. Your head spun, recognising that name somehow, as if it had been spoken in your dreams.

"Relax now, sweet thing. I'll be here when you wake up." Wanda said softly, lying beside you, wrapping the duvet around your naked body. Her arm laid loosely across your stomach, hearing her breathing slow down to something calmer than before.

You didn't say anything, too busy feeling a wave of satisfaction, as awful as that sounded. It was like your mind was used to this, and that it was something you'd always wanted.

The last thing you remembered was a soft lullaby, in a language you didn't recognise. You'd heard it before, in your dreams. And it brought you great comfort.

——

Tags: @rezwrites @hatdog96 @ion-news @esposadejoyhuerta @moimmmm @grimlygoblin @lizziesflower @yandereloverb312 @beggingonmykneesforher

——

[miguelsslvt]

ex nerd! scientist! miguel o'hara x slutty! reader

part two here!

word count: 745

TW: smut, nsfw, d/s themes, mentions of pet play.

A/N: THIS IS INSPIRED BY @nymphomatique SO PLS CHECK THEIR ONE OUT!! their drabble rlly inspired me so i thought maybe i could add a little twist;) welcome to the club!

back in your college days, you were.. promiscuous, some would say. well, you were the biggest slut on campus. if your body count didn't say it all, then the rumours sure did.

you took chemistry, maths, physics and biology. you wanted to be a physics scientist, partially because of the thought of there being lots and lots of different universes, but mostly because the pay was brilliant.

miguel o'hara was your 'pet' back in your college days, per-say.

you used him for your homework, and in exchange you would fuck him, give him head, handjobs, you name it. you took miguel's virginity, and every bit of innocence he had left. he was totally smitten by you. i mean, a pretty, popular girl giving him attention no one ever did? sign him up.

miguel was the biggest loser you knew back then. he wasn't the most muscly, and he had those ridiculous black square glasses, and his outfits were shocking. he had a slight lisp due to his late braces, and his hair was far too long and he clearly struggled to maintain it. to keep it blunt, he wasn't cool at all. he was a loser, a simp, and a goody two-shoes. perfect as your little pet.

it wasn't until after graduation did you stop your little encounters. after leaving college, you blocked his number and left campus on the same day. you thought you'd never have to see that nerdy freak again. well, that's what they all say, right?

that was until you finally got a job at ALCHEMAX. you were a 'technological support scientist', which sounded smart but really all you got to do was watch all the better scientists do tests. you didn't mind, it did more then just pay your bills. hell, with the checks you're bringing in you could probably buy a new car in a few months!

you thought things were all sunshine and rainbows, until the thunder walked in. it's funny though, you didn't realise thunder looked like 6'9 tall and 310 pound of pure muscle and attractiveness. his braces were gone, his hair more clean and cut a little shorter, and his glasses just resting on top of his head, but you knew exactly who he was.

'm-miguel o'hara?!' you said, shocked. he turned around swiftly, looking down at you, before his eyes widened. 'y/n l/n?' he said, surprised. you both had become blushing messes. well, his glow up sure came after only 3 years.

'you.. work here?' you asked, absolutely awe-struck. 'i.. do. i am a technological scientist here. you work here too? why haven't i ever seen you around before?' he asked, intriuged. 'i-it's my first day here. you.. matured.' you said, clearly checking him out.

the man smirked. he actually smirked. the man who would whimper, begging to just get off on your shoe, smirked at you like he was in control. 'and you look as gorgeous as 3 years ago.'

your heart stopped. who was this man? this muscular, defined, confident, completely self aware man.. this wasn't miguel. there was no way.

'you..you're very different, miguel.' you said, a blushing mess. he chuckled, putting some latex gloves on. fuck, even his hands were attractive. 'well alot happens to a guy.' he says smoothly, his voice deeper. god this was going to be hard.

♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎

that very night, you were spread out on the bed, and you didn't recognise the man above you.

3 years ago, a scrawny desperate nerdy little boy was on his knees, as if you were a goddess. and now, that very man was on top of you, kissing your neck so skilfully, as if he's done this for years. his thrusts had rhythm, as he grinded along your g spot with ease, you let out a gasp and a breathy moan, as he shushed you.

'sh, bonita.. you've changed. where's that dominatrix you were back in college days? why are you so.. obedient?~' he whispered in your ear, as you moaned again.

'i-i think i-it's y-you that changed, m-miguel..' you breathily said in response, as he chuckled. 'oh no, sweetheart, i'm still the same loser that was begging on his knees for you. just now, i've learnt how to please you as well as me.' he said in response, his hands moving down from your breasts to your hips, his cock deep inside you as he grinded his hips as you felt every inch.

god, is this heaven?

♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎

[writerunnamed]

note: This is something I've wanted to write for a while but I am well aware that not everyone will be into it. There are a few stories I want to tell that aren't the norm so I decided to start this nameless blog to tell them. I am not tagging anyone, if you find it then you find it. xo Joel(stepdad), significant age gap, female reader. 18+ legal, reader is 20 (warnings: pov sex, Joel spits on the 😸, boobie play, really inappropriate dirty talk, an unused sex toy [will make an appearance in another chapter], female masturbation, daddy kink, unfit parent) 5.6k word count masterlist • series masterlist • part 2

He takes up so much space, and it wasn’t just physically. He took up space emotionally, mentally. Mentally most of all. Your thoughts always drifted back to him. Cyclical. An elliptical pattern making him the top of every list you’d go through in your head. He seemed to know it too, in a stoic, quiet, largely unsettling way. Older, attractive men tended to do that. 

It started during that in-between time, when summer, losing your job, and having to move back home pushed you to figure out what the fuck you actually wanted to do with your life seemed to come together like the planets aligning. The precipice of a turning point, a ticking clock counting down the days until your childhood bedroom would be turned into a gym, or an office, or a guest bedroom. The lukewarm welcome from your mother would ice over and you’d really have to get your shit together. 

Your mother was what people who didn’t know her would call ‘a free spirit’, what you called her, was a fucking mess. 

Your earliest memories consist of having to remind her to buy milk or to pay the bill because the electricity had turned off while watching cartoons in front of the tiny, living room tv. You’d had to remind her, in not so many words, that she was the mother, and you were the child. 

To your friends, she was the cool mom. The party mom. Your house was the place to be because she didn’t ask questions, she left her cigarettes unattended and didn’t mind if a few went missing. She kept the bar cart stocked, even if there was nothing but flies in the cupboard and nothing but half-empty condiment bottles in the fridge. Your friends loved it. 

She flirted with the boys your age, she gave sex tips to the girls. 

You smiled when they congratulated you on having the cool mom, and when they all went home, you retreated and pretended to be happy. 

Joel settled her down. Met her in a bar and moved in quick. He came into the picture when you were fifteen and you were almost sure he’d be just like the rest of the lovers she’d taken over the years. You’d given the whole thing six months. Half a year for him to see what a fucking disaster she was. Six months to be a fucking creep, to cheat or get cheated on. 

The only differences you could clock at first were that he was self-employed, and marginally better looking than his predecessors.

He was firmer though, less malleable than the others she’d brought around, he seemed immune to her charms and that only inflamed her. It made her desperate for his approval and his attention. She would throw a tantrum, or play one of her mind games but he’d never rise to her bait. He was patient for the most part, until he hit his breaking point and his temper reared its head. A temper only she seemed to bring out in him. 

To you, it was pathetic. 

He didn’t try with you though, there was no flattery or strong hand, only a silent respect. In a sense, he treated you as the adult, and her as the child. It worked for you, if he’d expected you to call him dad he would have been laughed at mercilessly and he seemed to know this. 

The disturbing part was his respect and his healthy avoidance of you worked its own kind of magic. It made him an enigma, made you curious as to what he got out of the whole thing. A home, sure. A woman who was obsessed with him, yes. Sex–yes. You heard it enough for it to turn your stomach. By the sounds of it, he knew what he was doing.

The thought sickened the healthy part of your brain. The other part though, the part flooding your body with hormones, making it come to life with curiously intense sexual feelings, that part wanted to know what it was he was so good at. How could he pull those sounds out of anyone? It was easier to imagine him with some faceless woman. 

It was shameful to imagine yourself. 

The thought–although enough to fuel a desperate journey of self-exploration–always filled you with an insurmountable guilt. 

For those first few years you could barely look at him. Your mother took it as a healthy dose of teenage rebellion. That only aggravated you more. She never asked questions, never dug to see what the cause of your obvious distaste for her partner was about and so again, you retreated. He, however, kept to the outs of your path. He followed your lead, he let you control any and every part of all of your interactions. He didn’t ask questions. He kept the lights on. He kept the fridge full. 

He burrowed his way in, whether you liked it or not. 

When you turned eighteen, you moved out. He helped, did his ‘fatherly’ duties and moved you into the apartment, he urged your mother to take you on an extensive grocery trip, spoke to your landlord about the safety of the building. You supposed you should have been grateful, you should have said thank you, given him some sort of acknowledgement that you appreciated his help but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Instead you said your mumbling goodbyes, and promptly closed the door on them. Neither of them complained. 

The euphoria of venturing out on your own had lost its shine depressingly quick. A string of chronically unserious boyfriends came and went, the rent climbed higher than you could keep up with, and while already living paycheck to paycheck, you lost your job. Your cellphone had taken the brunt of your frustration at having to call your mother, begging her to let you come back home while you got back on your feet a little more than two years after you’d left. 

Your teeth gnawed at your lips, your fingernails dug into the skin around your cuticles in the attempt to keep your voice sweet and pleading, in the end it was his voice that you’d heard in the background, telling–no, commanding her to say yes. That he would be your champion twisted at your insides. Maybe a small, healthy part of you hoped he’d put up a fight, tell you that you were too old to be coming back home and that you had to figure it out on your own like an adult. 

A healthy part of you hoped that he’d save you again, only from yourself. Hanging up with a heavy, resigned sigh, you set about starting the trek home, ignoring the swirling mess of annoyance, confusion, and perverse glee in your stomach. 

-

The first few days were spent in a depressive episode, a seemingly inescapable loop of sleeping in late, leaving your room only when the house was empty to raid the kitchen for something to eat, scrolling mindlessly–blindly–on your phone and then staying up way too late only to do it all over again. 

They didn’t bother you, but if the annoyed sighs and narrowed eyes from your mother were anything to go by, the talk was coming soon. After the third day of the cycle, you circumvent it and wake up early-ish to shower and dress in something other than ratty old sweats long forgotten by an ex you couldn’t quite remember. 

You came down to find Joel sitting at the kitchen table. His eyes tracked the lines of you, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. 

Your heart leapt. He should have been at work by now. 

“Good morning.” It came out croaky, your voice almost reluctant to come out. 

“Mornin’.” His hair was slicked back, the gray almost sparkling in the golden light. You fiddled with the hem of your shirt. His eyes were so intense, you found yourself stuck in place, like a deer in headlights and that ever present, deep-seeded anger reared its head. It was irrational that he should frustrate you so much with his calm presence. 

“Coffee’s fresh, if you want some.” He jut his chin out to the pot, lowering his eyes to his paper once more. Once his gaze had shifted, you found you could breathe again. You mumbled a thanks and moved to pour yourself a cup, thankful, if unsure why, to focus on something concrete instead of abstract self-reflection.

“Your mama’s gon’ be late tonight. I thought I could pick up a pizza on the way home.” He says it offhand and again, your heart races. 

“Whatever.” You scrunch your face up in annoyance, it sounded like such a bullshit, teen response. He doesn’t comment on it, and that somehow makes it worse. You beat yourself about it as you root around in the fridge for the milk. The cereal you liked was in the top cupboard, and you’re not quite tall enough to reach it. 

You heard his chair scoot back and then suddenly he’s there, beside you, pressed up tight. You follow the long line of his throat as he stares up, reaching the box with ease while one big, warm hand lands on your lower back. He smells like the laundry detergent your mother insists on buying mixed with something else. Manly, smoky, with coffee laced through. Your cunt clenches nonconsensually as he stands there and stares down at you, his whole front pressed against your side, his hand still holding your lower back. Your mouth hangs open, stupidly, and he raises an eyebrow again forcing something to kickstart deep in your gut. 

“You okay there babygirl?” The endearment feels unwholesome.

It triggers something strange, strengthening the underlying conflict for him. There’s a lilt in his tone you don’t like, maybe because deep down you like it too much. Maybe you don’t want to admit that, or analyze anything about what the fuck is happening in your body. In your psyche. 

“Yeah.” You step out of his bubble, barely managing not to trip over yourself in your haste to get away and put a healthy distance between you. 

“Yes. Thank you.” You take a deep breath, pressing your lips together tight in what you hope to God is a neutral expression. 

He lets out a bemused huff through his nose, a mischief in his eyes shining out at you that you’ve never seen directed at you. You’ve seen it used on your mom. You’ve seen her go giggly and flirty whenever he looked at her like that. A half-formed escape plan starts to form but he saves you from the need, he puts his things in the dishwasher, and nods his head in goodbye. 

You practically hold your breath until you hear his truck rumble out of the driveway, and down the street. 

-

You manage to avoid him for a few days, staying out late catching up with friends, or feigning a need for rest. You’ve convinced your mother that your days are now spent job hunting, and for the most part they are. You leave in the morning, avoiding any and all contact and you get home late, creeping up the stairs much like you did in your teens even though you’d really never needed to. Your mother never enforced a curfew, and when Joel joined the picture, he didn’t pry. 

The luck didn’t last though, you got over-confident. He was sprawled out on the sofa, up uncharacteristically late one night when you padded through the house. 

“You’re up late.” You quickly check the accusatory tone, “Don’t you have to get up early?” Better, it comes out more concerned than annoyed and he nods. He wore a threadbare t-shirt, the fabric of it having been through the wash too many times to keep its shape. Light, gray sweats were stretched almost obscenely tight over his spread thighs, pooling at his crotch from being shoved up by the couch. 

“Couldn’t sleep. Come sit, we can watch some tv.” He pats the seat next to him and despite the deep desire to retreat into the Joel-free haven of your bedroom, you cannot seem to disobey him. 

You settle beside him on the couch, a little further away than was necessary. He chuckles softly. 

“I ain’t gonna bite you, girl. Not unless you ask nicely.” 

You pretend you don’t hear it, choosing instead to compartmentalize whatever game he’s playing and stare at the screen. He flips through the channels, settling on one thing for a few minutes before moving to something else until he finds a movie that’s already close to midway. There’s an electricity in the air, something about him galvanizing the space between you, charging it enough to make the hairs on your arms stand on end. You frown to yourself, barely paying attention while fighting an increasingly confusing mental battle. Why is it so hard to be around him? Why does he inspire such scorn? Is it scorn at all?

You rub at your eyes, scrubbing your hands down your face in a feeble attempt to wipe the slate clean. 

He’s just a man, a man your mother had chosen and for better or worse they seem to work. She is happy with him and he is seemingly happy with her, why then is it so hard to accept him for what he is? Something slithers around in your brain, something that laughs darkly, something pulsing through the network of thoughts and ideas that threatens to crack open your subconscious and throw it right in your face. 

“Well now, ain’t that somethin’?” You pull your hands away from your face to see a very explicit scene playing out on the screen. Heat floods every inch of your body. 

“Almost looks like she’s enjoyin’ herself.” He leaves it on, and you feel stuck, your body betraying you yet again to see the way the woman on screen moans wantonly while under a very handsome man. You let out a non-committal sound, teetering on the edge of madness. You scold yourself, you are an adult, an adult that has had sex before and this isn’t even real. 

“Looks like fake bullshit to me.” The strength in your voice lends credence to the illusion that you aren’t affected. He laughs, calm and completely at ease and that only pulls the anger to the forefront again. 

“They can’t show the real stuff on these channels. If it were real, he’d be doin’ what she needs.” 

“And what’s that?” It comes out before you can stop it. 

“Well,” He smiles to himself, winning a duel you hadn’t even known you were fighting. 

“If it were real, he’d be pressin’ on her clit, he’d be makin’ sure she felt every inch of him and make her take his cock like a good girl.” You let out a heavy breath, half shocked, half grateful it wasn’t a whimper. 

Warning bells go off in your head, just as a heartbeat starts in your cunt because you can see it. You can see him. His face twisted up in pleasure but cocky, his hips moving, his thumb dipped into your mouth and then swirling around your clit. He smiles at catching you looking at his hands and you want to yell at him. You want to smack him across the face and kick him in the balls for saying something like that to you, his partner's daughter, but you don’t. 

Your body almost catapults you out of your seat. Barely unintelligible words come out, something about needing sleep, about being tired and then you hightailed it out of there like a bat out of hell. 

The shower was cold enough to make your teeth chatter, but it did nothing to cool the heat blooming in your core and it was with a terrifying desperation that you ground against your fingers. The slick pooling at the mouth of your pussy was enough to feel even with the water washing everything away except your shame. 

You bit your tongue to keep from moaning out the taboo and entirely inappropriate name you were dying to say out loud. His firm thighs spread on that couch filled your mind, the calloused, work-roughened hands you could practically feel on your hips, on your thighs. You could feel them holding and spreading your legs open so he could make you make those same noises you’d heard over the years. Make you take it like a good girl, his good girl. 

You came with a shudder, sagging against the chilly tile. You warmed the water with a sigh, disappointed and ashamed with yourself, trying, and failing, to put the whole thing out of your mind. 

-

You doubled down on avoiding him after that. 

Your mother worked most of the time but when she was home, things were easier. He reverted to the healthy avoidance, the proverbial disinterest that she didn’t seem to have a problem with. You still heard them some nights, the bed creaking, throaty cries, deep grunts but now they haunted you in a different way. Now you heard his words on that couch and couldn’t help but picture all manner of unsavory things that both disgusted and thrilled you. 

Being unemployed didn’t help. There was nothing to keep you out of the house most of the day, and there were only so many places that would accept you looking for a job in person. 

There was only so much time you could spend with friends too, they had their own lives and jobs and relationships. Too busy to save you from unwanted free time. 

Old habits resurface, and you retreat within yourself while pushing yourself harder. A job would fix things enough to help, you could save up enough money to leave for good and take yourself out of the equation. 

-

The powers that be momentarily take pity on you, and after what seems like a lifetime's worth of job hunting you blessedly get a call back. It’s a part time job, but at this point beggars can’t exactly be choosers. It’s a steady, if insufficient source of income that hadn’t been available to you before. Determined, you buckle down, you channel every guidance counselor you’ve ever had and ace the fuck out of that interview.

It’s not taxing work, but you put your head down and focus with the hope that if you worked hard enough, if you made a good enough impression, made yourself indispensable they’d throw you enough shifts to make up a full time job. 

It helps. Time spent away from the house, from your mothers dried up welcome, from Joel altogether genuinely helps. You feel a bit lighter, less guilty, less prone to imagine the unimaginable. You find comfort in the absence of self-imposed temptation. There is peace in the mindless work, in the life outside of the house that no longer feels like a home. 

It's a double edged sword though, because at the end of every shift, the luck–the peace–runs out. If being at work and out of the house is a respite, returning home only thickens the tension. Time spent outside the house only sharpens the discomfort, clarifies the glaring wrongness of it all when you enter it at the end of the day. What it all is, you won’t name. That way madness lies. Issue is, with every interaction, with every chance encounter in the hallway, or living room, every second spent with him in the kitchen watching his lips touch the rim of his mug the thing inside grows. Parts of him fill the corners of your mind. The curve of his shoulders filling out the flannel shirts he favors. The fullness of his bottom lip when he purses them, something he does while squinting at the paper that you’re almost sure he isn’t aware of. His neck, his hands, the dimple in his cheek when he laughs at something really funny. 

These things jump out, innocent as they may be, but other not so innocent things start to creep in. The bulge in his jeans is a mental mine, it lies in wait and every so often when you think you’ve avoided it, it detonates and you catch yourself staring, both ashamed and so inappropriately curious it eats away at you like acid. 

What you needed was something to fill the emptiness, both emotionally and physically. So you did what any modern, adult woman would do; you bought a sex toy. 

Nothing too crazy, or expensive. After perusing the site for a while you finally settled on a plain, non-threatening dildo. Nothing too big, nothing noisy, just something to be able to focus on, something to use while imagining someone giving you what you need. You ignored that dark thing inside that hissed his name, shooed it away and ordered the package for express delivery. With your mom constantly working, and Joel keeping to himself you figured it wouldn’t be an issue. Neither of them would question a package addressed to you. 

You still aren’t sure whether or not you’d do it all over again had you known the Pandora’s box that little package would open. 

You all but rushed home after work. All day, you’d imagined the relief that toy would bring. You imagined yourself using it in the shower, steam swirling as you took your pleasure. You imagined yourself laying in bed in the safety of the dark, setting a towel down on your chair and riding it to your heart's content. 

Joel’s truck is in the driveway when you pull in, but it’s secondary to the excitement at the chance to sequester yourself with your new best friend and so when you walk into the house, you don’t give him much attention. Until he opens his mouth. 

“You got a package today babygirl. I put it on your bed.” He sits on his spot on the sofa, a funny little smile on his face. A bad feeling swells in your chest, and you look up the stairs before meeting his eyes again. 

“Thanks.” You drop your bag on the little bench near the front door, trying, and failing to keep the nervous feeling out of your voice. He nods, and you make your way up, stopping yourself from taking the stairs two at a time. 

Ice flows through your veins when you see the package is open. 

He’d opened your package, he knew what you’d bought. 

Blood pounds in your ears as you stand there, limbs cold and numb at the realization that he saw it. He saw it. He opened it, and he placed it here, on the very place you fantasized about using it. Sweat beaded on your brow, the bottom of your stomach fell out of your ass as you stood there, barely feeling the soft, worn carpet under your feet. 

“Little small, f’you ask me.” His voice at the mouth of your room made your head twist fast enough to hurt your neck. You hadn’t heard him follow you up the stairs, hadn’t heard him open your door and lean against the frame, arms crossed in haughty amusement. 

“Why would you open my package?” You clutched at it, as though he could forget what he’d seen if you held it tightly enough. 

“I didn’t open it on purpose, I’m expectin’ somethin’ and I didn’t read the name.” He pushes away from the door frame, making his way closer and it’s like the air thins as the space between you shrinks.

“I mean, I could tell you been frustrated, but this doesn’t seem like it’s gon’ help much.” He reaches out, and takes the package from you. You watch him do it, watch him, frozen as he plucks it from your hands and takes the toy out. 

“This all you can take?” He holds it, contemptuously–pityingly. 

You wanted to snatch it out of his hands, the dimming voice of reason urges you to push him out of your room and remind him that he needs to keep a healthy distance but you say nothing, you stand there, and watch him. He puts it all down on your dresser, before stepping a little closer, close enough for you to have to crane your neck up to look into his eyes. 

“No boyfriends around to give you what you want?” His hand comes up, the tips of his fingers sliding across the apple of your cheek, slipping down until his thumb pressed against the cushion of your bottom lip. 

“No one around to give you what you obviously need?” He steps a little closer, until your bodies meet. This is wrong, your mind screams it but your body is frozen under his eyes, under his touch. That part, the frozen part is cheering, it’s running victory laps as it floods your cunt with slick in preparation for something unholy. 

That same, writhing, traitorous thing whispers that this is your chance, the house is empty and your body obeys. You look your fill, you take in the curve of his nose and the furrow in his brow. His eyes are black as a crow's wing, lust-blown and completely focused on your parted lips and your shallow panting. 

Adrenaline spikes and you do something you cannot take back. You rise on your tip-toes and press your mouth to his. 

He hums into it, smiling and once again you get that feeling that you’d made the exact move he’d expected you to. A vague, but fleeting inkling that you were just a pawn on his chessboard. 

At any other time you would have stepped away and repented, ate yourself alive with guilt but his hands pulled you closer, his tongue swiped at the seam of your mouth and you opened up for him. That only made it all the more real, the taste of his tongue in your mouth, feeling his hands lower to hold onto your ass. 

The rational part of you shrinks down to nothing, and that other part, the wrong part–it swells and preens under his hands. He pulls away, and embarrassingly, you chase his mouth in a daze. 

“Oh honey, you’re just dyin’ for it aren’t you?” He herds you towards your tiny bed, the twin mattress that has been the stage for every taboo fantasy about this man, your stepfather. You shoo the word away with a shiver. 

“It’s wrong-” You almost whisper, but you don’t push him away, you let him lay you down in that bed and he laughs. 

“It is, isn't it?” He pulls at the hem of your shirt, you raise your arms for him and the picture of it is wrong, daddy taking off your clothes. The thought, the word,  should disgust you but it only pulls your hands to him. You join in, and pull his shirt up and off, biting your lip at the broadness of him. You take in each freckle, the sprinkling of hair on his chest, the dip of his throat calling out for your tongue like a siren. 

He presses his lips to yours again, licking into your mouth obscenely. Unseemly. 

“You been wantin’ this for a long time, haven’t you babygirl?” He pulls your bra off, and the shock of cold air hardens your nipples. He bites his lip to see it, unable to stop himself from flattening his tongue against a hardened bud. A sound you’ve never let yourself make out loud in this room fills the space between you and that slithering thing luxuriates. 

He moves, languidly, unhurried to the other breast and holds the plump of it in his big hand and sucks at the second bud, sucks as much of the peak as he can into his mouth, breathing through his nose while you slowly spiral into madness.

When he lets go, he presses a kiss to your nipple and his facial hair tickles your skin. 

He pulls your leggings off along with your underwear in one go and the reality of it all hits you when the air hits your soaked core. That’s when the urge to put a stop to it is the clearest, when he kneels between your legs and spreads them wide, stares at the place where he’s already filled a million times in your mind. The place that’s drenched at the mere thought of him. 

“Joel-” You start, but he pushes your legs up, folding you and then he lets a glob of spit fall from his mouth slowly, aiming it, a bullseye right on the lips of your cunt. It’s too much, too filthy and you let out a whimper. 

“I think you wanna call me somethin’ else right now.” He undoes his belt and his jeans, keeping his eyes on where his saliva slides down over the open mouth of your cunt, down towards your asshole. He pulls his cock out and part of you shatters. Your eyes flit to the toy sitting on your dresser, your eyes flit to the open door of your bedroom. 

“Don’t worry, your mama ain’t gonna be home for a while.” He smiles, conspiratorially. It's too real, it’s too hypnotic, seeing him there with his cock in his hand while your legs already ache from holding them up and open. He slides the blunt end of it through the mess he’s caused, through his spit and he groans at the sight of it. 

Your heart races so hard to feel him there, that you see the pulse of it in your vision. 

“Deep breath baby.” he warns before slipping inside the tight fist of your pussy, the size of him making you gasp. This is it, there’s no coming back from this and right now, with him seated deep, his groin pressed up tight and the tip of his cock kissing your womb you cannot even think of why you’d ever care.

This is where he's meant to be. This is where you need him. 

“Oh baby, that’s so good huh?” He thrusts shallowly, pulling out a little more than halfway before shoving his hips forward again. You don’t really know how to form words, you don’t know how to take in what’s happening. This is Joel, your step-dad, fucking you in the bed you grew up in. One hand sits heavy on your shin, holding it, the other slides up and holds onto your breast. 

“Look how fuckin’ wet this little pussy is for me,” he moans the words, “you like daddy fuckin’ you?” He thrusts harder and you moan despite the word hitting you in the stomach like a big drop on a rollercoaster. He shouldn’t say that, shouldn’t call himself that, not now. 

“No-” it doesn’t come out like you mean it to, it sounds wrong, like a caress. 

“No? But I think you do-” He leans forward, keeping his pace while pressing his chest to yours, his mouth all but lining up and despite your bullshit protest, you hitch your knees high on his ribs to make room because if he stopped you’d probably die. 

“I think you want me to be your daddy, don’t you baby, it’s okay, I want to be.” He speeds up and the sounds between your legs are so wet, so filthy. 

“You can say it, I want you to say it.” He holds himself up, his elbows caging in your skull and before you can complain or moan or cry he sticks his tongue down your throat again. Your hands finally join the fray and you wrap your arms around his neck, holding him tight to you. 

“Come on baby, say it for me, tell me how good daddy fucks you.” You moan, closing your eyes while your cunt floods him with wave after wave of slick, enough to drip down your ass and onto your bed, down his balls. Enough for it to soak the curls at the base of him. 

“Look at me when I’m fuckin’ you honey.” His hips speed up and it's hard now, his thrusts making your bounce, hitting a part of you that toy would never touch in a million years. 

You open your eyes, and look at him above you, sweat beading on his hairline. Never has he looked more fucking appealing than he does right then. The word is there, in your mouth and you know it’ll taste sweeter than anything in this world. 

The wrong thing wins.  

“Yes daddy.” You moan it, and the shameful thing sets off fireworks in your being, he smiles, and tucks his head into the damp crook of your neck, feeding his lovely filth right into your ear. 

“That’s my babygirl, that’s it, fuck baby you take it better than your mama.” Something inside recoils at that, but something else, another facet of that fucked up thing inside rejoices.

“Let me hear you say it again, say it when you come.” He licks a hot stripe up your neck. His words are a filthy groan, something to tuck away for later.

He reaches down, pressing his thumb to your clit just like he said on that couch and you keen, the slip and the pressure enough to toss you over the edge with an almost painfully intense orgasm. 

“I’m coming, daddy.” It’s a shuddering whisper as your cunt clenches around him. 

He moves quickly, kneeling between your legs to pull out and then he’s stroking himself over your cunt. It’s still pulsing when he paints it in his come. You catch your breath as he tugs at himself a few more times, milking himself against you with a disturbingly familiar groan. 

The fog clears altogether too quickly. The lights are too bright, you’re naked, and he’s still got his jeans around his thighs while the guilt creeps into your veins, replacing the euphoria. 

What have I done? What have you made me do?

[ddejavvu]

Hiii! Could you write a Spencer Reid x fem reader who are dating & she’s super drunk, he needs to take care of her and she’s all “no I have a boyfriend who I love so much” and goes on a ramble about Spencer, not releasing she’s talking to him & he’s all heart eyes and giggly at her whilst trying to take care of her? Lots of fluff? Thank you!

The minute Spencer tries taking your hand to help you down from the booth you're squeezed into, you push his hand away, "No."

"No," You repeat, shaking your head with all the coordination of a baby deer, "Nooo sir. I am not going to be partaking in anything with you, because I have a boyfriend," You announce, your voice spanning over the entire table, even reaching Rossi who's at the head, "And I love him, and you're- just- fuck off."

Spencer's mouth falls open incredulously at your expletive, though a laugh escapes it rather than one of his own. "Oh, really? You've got a boyfriend?"

"Mhm." You nod proudly, settling back into your seat and burrowing away from his waiting hands into Emily's side, "He's tall, and he has a gun, so don't-" You choke on what Spencer presumes is a hiccup, but could very well be a belch, "Don't mess with me."

"You tell'im," Emily laughs, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and rubbing the chilly skin beneath the cutoff of your sleeves, "Do you want me to call Spencer for you, sweetheart? Have him come pick you up?"

"Yeah," You nod easily, your eyes set greedily on your friend's drink now that yours have been downed, "Can you tell him to bring me a blanket, too? I'm cold."

Unbeknownst to you, Penelope herds Spencer away to the edge of the patio your team is seated on, and there's a lingering smile on his face as he listens to what she whispers in his ear.

"I have a blanket in my car," She tells him, "It might have some cat hair on it, but you can totally take it! Go get it, and you can come back like we called you."

"Okay," Spencer's eager to take Penelope's keys from her when she shoves them into Spencer's hands, "Thanks, Garcia. Just make sure she doesn't drink any more, okay?"

A quick glance back at your table reveals Emily holding her glass to your lips, helping you tilt it backwards to dump the concoction down your throat.

"Uh- any more than that." Spencer clarifies. Penelope nods, rushing off to make sure you don't find Rossi's scotch.

Spencer returns barely two minutes later, discreetly dumping Penelope's keys back into her purse. Hotch and Morgan share a knowing smirk when Spencer pats you on the shoulder, and JJ pinches your side from across Emily to get you to notice the man standing beside you.

"Hi angel," Spencer croons, and your face lights up, shining brighter than the fairy lights strung above you, "Emily called me, she said you wanted me to come get you?"

"Spencer!" You cheer, and Emily shares her strength with you to hoist you into his arms where you cling to him like a koala bear, "Spence, you're here! There was this guy, and he tried holding my hand, and-"

"Oh, no," Spencer scrunches his nose, unable to stop himself from laughing when you take it as an invitation to smear yours against his own, "Not a guy! Are you okay, angel?"

"Mhm," You hum, tucking your face into his shoulder, "You're here now, Spence. And you brought a blanket, just like I asked."

"Of course I did," He beams, wrapping his arm tightly around your back as you settle over him like dead weight, "Uh- guys, can we get a bill?"

"Just go," Rossi waves him off, patting his pocket where you all know his rather thick wallet lies, "Take her home now, so that she can't run up my card with any more drinks, and I'll pay for the ones she already had."

"Thanks Rossi," Spencer grins awkwardly at him, flashing the man a strained thumbs-up before he has to use that hand to support the backs of your thighs once more, "Okay, honey, ready to go?"

You don't answer, and Derek leans sideways to peek at you.

"She's out," He snickers, "Pretty boy, make sure she's still breathing when you get home, alright?"

"Got it," Spencer chuckles breathily, "Okay, uh- bye guys."

There's a chorus of send-offs, and Hotch tilts his glass at Reid with an amused twinkle in his dark eyes, "Make sure you're both on time Monday. Hangovers don't excuse you from duty."

[atrwriting]

more, more, more — carmy x reader

carmen berzatto x coworker!reader

listen to me. this man? this man?? so fucking slutty. so fucking slutty i can’t even think straight. i am absolutely AGHAST at how little writing there is of this man online. absolutely OUTRAGEOUS. he looks like that and none of us have done his character justice?? DISGRACEFUL.

i wrote this in direct response to how angry i am at how little there is.

as always, warnings… SMUT!, alcohol consumption, alcohol consumption with sex, smoking, p in v penetration, work relationships, overstimulation, carmen berzatto being an absolute mind blowing fuck on a table i mean in bed

also, minors fuck RIGHT the fuck off

barely edited we die like men

i stole that joke don’t come for me

anyway....

you didn’t really know how it happened.

you were once an unemployed law student, scared of drowning in bills, and eagerly awaiting a call back from anyone that would hire you — when she called.

natalie berzatto.

her voice was warm and comforting on the phone, and very eager to have you come in. she was relaying important information to you on the phone, and while you grabbed bits and pieces, it was hard to focus on anything else besides the sheer excitement of finally having a job. the job would be stressful, sure — but at least you wouldn’t be broke and stressed.

unfortunately, your first couple of shifts were a mess and a half. you took instructions well, and performed well, but in the hospitality business — that means nothing when an oven burner is out, a dishwasher doesn’t show up for a shift, richie starts barking, or when carmen’s upset.

carmen.

fucking carmen.

while soft spoken, there was nothing that could compare to the look of approval in his eye when you had completed a task to his standard. most people would consider the job of a hostess useless, or not a job at all — something to laugh at, but carmen? no. that man took your job very seriously, as he knew what it meant to provide the full experience to the customer.

however, when something was lacking in the kitchen and that experience was interrupted… carmen took the look of approval, almost gratefulness, away and replaced it with something that everyone felt like they had to walk around shards of glass.

when he was angry? oh, fuck… that could ruin anyone’s night.

the worst of it happened when his sister unexpectedly went into labor. two weeks early.

carmen had left the place screaming, and, in the process, had also left his things at the restaurant, including his jacket, wallet, keys, the lot — so to be nice you went to drop it off at his place. worried that he might be at the hospital, you texted him.

you: hey, going out for a drink. saw you forgot your stuff at the restaurant so i grabbed it because you’re otw. you home?

carmen: oh shit thanks. i’m home

so there you stood. at his front door, his stuff in hand.

you quickly adjusted your long hair, worried about your appearance. it was weird to show up to carmen’s place in your regular attire — seeing as though your regular attire on a night with your friends was black flare jeans, a tight black long sleeve v-neck that showed off your cleavage — you were concerned that he might be concerned with who he exactly employed. however, his niece was just born… he had more important things to worry about.

so you knocked.

and barely waited.

carmen was barely at the door a few seconds later before you came face to face with the man who constantly let exhaustion ride on his back.

“you good?” you immediately asked, handing over his stuff.

he nodded. “yeah, uh — thanks.”

“you look like you could use a drink,” you laughed. “want to come with?”

he shook his head, the corners of his lips somewhat curving upwards. “nah. day was hectic. you want one? come in — for a drink?”

you smiled. “i don’t want to intrude, especially after the berzatto family excitement of the day.”

“i owe you,” he sighed. “but don’t let me hold you up if your friends are waiting.”

you smiled. “one drink won’t hurt.”

one drink definitely did not hurt.

drink two and three definitely didn’t, either.

how much carmen made you laugh definitely made your stomach hurt, though. in a good way.

“you’re killing me,” you cackled. “who knew quiet carmen berzatto was such a good host.”

“you can call me carmy, y’know,” he spoke, saying his cigarette before pouring you another drink. “everyone else does.”

you shrugged. “you’re pretty professional in the kitchen. didn’t want to impose.”

“i don’t think you could impose a day in your life,” he chuckled. “i think you’re the only one that knows boundaries in that fuckin’ place.”

“says the mysterious one,” you giggled. “the only reason any of us know your nicknames is because richie likes to share your baby stories.”

“speaking of babies…” he took a drag. “thank you for helping sugar out so much. she told me to tell you how much she appreciates it.”

you shrugged. “‘s nothing.”

“nothing?” he scoffed. “you keep her sane. definitely keep me sane.”

“always got your back, chef,” you giggled.

he smiled, and ashed his cigarette once more. his long, thick fingers stretched around the circumference of his glass. one fingertip tapped against the glass and a few droplets of condensation fell to his countertop.

you were twisted around in your seat to face carmen, eyeing his attractive hands. in your peripheral vision, you saw him lift his head to cock it towards you and stare at you. the longing look sent shivers up your spine, but you gazed at him through your long lashes as you waited for his response.

“you do,” he spoke. “always have. we were lucky to find you. i - i was, i mean.”

“more like i was lucky get a call from natalie,” you laughed. “it’s so hard to find a well paying job nowadays.”

“heard,” he rasped. “you happy at the bear?”

“very,” you replied. “staff keeping you happy, chef?”

he chuckled. “when i’m not made to scream, yeah.”

“that’s fair. we’re lucky to have you.”

there was only so many things you could think of to say to carmen before you began to consider that you were imposing. you slapped your hands against your thighs — a implicit signal it was time for you to go. he led you to the door, where he reached out for your coat. you smiled at him, thanked him for the drink, and slid your arms through the jacket as he held it out for you.

you don’t know what caused you to, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was you — or maybe it was how good carmen smelled — but you glanced up and over your shoulder at the polite man behind you.

you didn’t have anything to say. frankly, you said something last — it was his turn. however, carmen’s sense of societal expectations started and ended with the door to the kitchen. but there, by his front door? basically holding you by the shoulders, and staring back down at you? he had nothing to say.

however… his eyes could share a thousand things about him. more specifically, emotions. carmen’s eyes showed exhaustion, a bit of dehydration, to keep it a buck, but there was so much intensity in those crystal irises. they were a stunning, clear blue… but with the way carmen was gazing down at you, there appeared to be no clear thought in his head.

and he did nothing.

so you could do nothing.

you found yourself disappointed at his actions, or rather — lack thereof.

you simply smiled, and went to turn away. you reached for his door knob, when you felt the slightest brush of calloused fingers against the skin of your wrist. the feeling shocked you, pricking at your nerves, but you didn’t stop until you felt those fingers enclose around the circumference of your wrist.

like they had with the glass, moments ago.

you turned back, letting your long and thick eyelashes ghost over your line of sight. all you could see was a frozen chef, standing tired, but staring back at you.

when his gaze fell to the floor, you stepped closer. he glanced up.

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you softly asked, “what’s up, carmy?”

“first time i had someone over.” his parted lips closed so he could swallow, and his eyes drifted between your lips and the floor. the words were right there, on his tongue. they were so close you could feel them, taste them. he replied, “i, um… don’t want it to end, uh — i guess.”

you smiled and turned around in place, barely inches from his face. his breaths were pushing past his lips in small, light puffs that hit the tip of your chin. it was like he was conscious of everything he was emitting; his vibe, where he was looking, even his fucking exhales. he was cautious and frozen and all you wanted was for him to be relaxed, or as close to, as he was moments ago.

“already drank you out of house and home, carmy. what else you got in mind?”

his eyes widened, but his voice stayed level. “what else i got in mind?”

you hummed in agreement with a coy smile on your face. you folded your lip between your teeth and stepped backwards. carmy glanced at your hips and feet hesitantly, shifting his weight slightly. while his eyes were trained on you, his parted lips quivered slightly which told you that there was still some nervousness lingering in him. with every step you took, carmy took one as well. you kept stepping backwards, and carmy kept stepping forwards, until your back was pressed against the wall.

carmy’s lips weren’t slightly quivering anymore. there was no hesitation in his figure when he leaned down slightly and rested a flat palm against the drywall above your head. his breath was hitting you on both cheeks — as if they weren’t hot enough already. inside you were screaming. you were screaming, and screaming, and screaming and all you wanted to do was grab both sides of his face and smash your lips to his. you wanted to, but you wouldn’t. you wanted to see if he would.

“you know,” you spoke, raising your back. your cold palm pressed against his cheek. it was burning — almost as bad as yours. “even though you’re the boss… never seen you actually taste anything.”

“no?” he rasped. the gruffness in his voice pricked at your cheeks and went straight to your core. “and what do you want me to taste, sweetheart?”

you released your grip from his cheek and brought your hand down to your face. with a manicured nail, you tapped the plumpness of your bottom lip. you stared into his eyes — a dare.

“fuck.”

with his free hand, carmen wrapped your hand in his own and pressed it to the middle of his chest. he held it there, pressed against his heart, and surprisingly it was the exact spot you wanted to hold him. you wanted to hear — no, feel his heart that was beating slightly faster than normal. when carmen finally pressed his chapped lips against yours… you saw stars.

the alcohol coursing through your veins made you melt into the man before you. his hand on the wall slid down until he was rubbing the side of your neck, and then gripping the base of your skull. his fingers, his beautiful, skillful fingers threaded through your hair like it was one of his pieces of art and he was creating something. he twisted your strands until he had your head bent back, practically supported by the heavy palm of his hand. the motion made you gasp into his mouth. carmen swallowed it whole. every. last. bit.

“y’taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he moaned against your lips.

you hummed with him. the warmth of his body engulfed your body into his until the moment started and ended with carmen anthony berzatto. you could taste the liquor on his tongue that danced with your own. with every breath he took, bits of smoke would linger between the two of you. it went straight to your head, swallowing your senses whole. you didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the cigarettes, or carmen himself, but you felt like you were swimming.

“this okay, sweetheart?” he asked, pulling away for a second. a thumb of his stroked the skin of your cheek as he stared at you, waiting for feelings of regret from you. “d-do you want me to stop?”

“please don’t stop, carmy,” you gasped, pulling him back into. “you’re perfect.”

you didn’t expect that would make carmen slide his hands down your body and grasp the back of your thighs. his fingertips pressed into your skin, pulling your legs up and around his waist. you squealed against his teeth and couldn’t believe you had found yourself in this situation.

it’s not that carmen wasn’t handsome, no. the man was drop dead gorgeous in a tortured artist way, and you always had a thing for men that looked like they needed a hug but wouldn’t admit it. but… he was your boss.

what could you do about that? it’s not like you could stop now. even if you had told him to stop, got your shit and left — the damage was done. you both had crossed the boundaries, and you were going to reap what you sewed.

in that case… might as well have a little fun with it.

he had placed you on a neighboring table. his large hands gripped the flesh of your thighs and you couldn’t help but whine into his embrace. his tongue glided over your lips and teeth and with your tongue in the messiest way possible and all you could chant in your head was more, more, more.

and that’s when you found yourself pulling at the bottom of his t-shirt.

he stepped back slightly, throwing his shirt over his head. his swollen lips were parted, and his eyes searched your face. you found your chest rising and falling with anticipation, and realized you should’ve been more concerned with how he was dealing with all of this.

“you okay, carmy?” you whispered.

he nodded, letting a few fingertips of his ghost over the skin of your cheek. his crystal eyes glanced down to your lips.

“we can stop, you know,” you whispered again. “it’s okay.”

he nodded again before dipping his head down to the side of your neck. his plump lips left wet kisses on the sensitive skin and you moaned into the open air. you widened the space between your knees, allowing for carmen to wedge himself between your thighs.

“you’re always talking such good care of me, sweetheart, so good to me,” he rasped against your throat, sucking on the skin. “but all i want to do right now is have my fingers inside you. y’gonna let me?”

“yes, carmy,” you whined. “yes please.”

“such a polite girl f’me.” carmy’s mouth was attacking your throat. moans escaped passed your lips like carmy was squeezing them from you, claiming them. his fingers traveled down the front of your clothes and stopped at the button of your jeans. sliding it open, carmen berzatto slipped his perfect hands into your jeans.

“right there, please,” you gasped once his fingers found your bundle of nerves.

his fingers dipped into your core and spread it all over where you needed him most. warmth began to spread through your hips and your knees widened for him. his drew circles different ways until he noticed that when he drew counterclockwise circles, you bit your lip and your eyes appeared to involuntarily flutter shut. you felt carmy smirk against the skin of your neck.

“what made you this wet, baby?” he hummed, sucking at the base of your throat.

“you, carmy,” you whined. “felt it as soon as i saw you when i first walked in. needed you so badly.”

he smirked again. “so bringing my things wasn’t of the purest intentions?”

heat rose to your cheeks with the sensual actions that were taking place below the belt and carmy’s accusation. you grew worried at what he would say if you said no, that you honestly just wanted to help him out… but if carmy wanted to play like that, you could play.

“n-no,” you whined as the pleasure began to spread throughout your whole body.

carmy was holding you so close to him. it was like he was your support — supporting you through such a physically vulnerable moment. your legs were practically shaking at this point, trying to take everything he was giving you and not start sobbing. you were grabbing at any piece of him you, wanting to kiss him — but he wouldn’t let you. fucking bastard.

“good,” he stated, staring you dead in the eyes. your mouth fell open at his response, a pant pushing passed your lips. “i don’t have the purest of intentions when i do this.”

carmen berzatto slid two long, thick fingers inside you ever so slowly. the motion pulled small moans out of you like you were a pathetic mess of a puddle and the sun rose and set with him. you felt his fingertips press against the upper wall inside you, while another finger worked at your clit, and all you could do was hold onto him tighter.

“it feels so good, carmy,” you whined. “i love your fingers so, so much.”

“yeah, baby?” he breathed against your ear. “you wanna cum f’me?”

“faster, please, i will,” you sobbed. you fucking sobbed as the tapping motion inside you hastened. “oh god — oh my fucking god —“

“that’s it, sweetheart? that’s what you needed?”

“yes, yes — fucking — fuck — yes.”

“f-fuck —“ he groaned broken, incoherent phrases against your throat. his breath was hot and heavy on your skin and all you could think about was how good he felt inside of you, and also how badly you wanted all of him inside you. interrupting your thoughts, he spoke, “show me how good it feels, baby. finish all over my fingers f’me.”

that broke you.

that fucking broke you.

it was like a shock of lightning hit you straight in your core and the power from the strike spread throughout your entire body. every muscle of yours went taut as you arched your chest into carmy’s.

with his expert hands, he fucked you through the orgasm. “that’s it, baby. that’s it. keep cumming for me.”

it was like carmen berzatto knew everything to say to make you shatter. you couldn’t even breathe — all you could do was give into the spreading feeling of bliss and hold your breath while it washed over you. it was wave, after wave, after wave of mind-numbing orgasm and carmen held you through all of it.

“pretty girl.”

“i know, baby. you’re such a sweet girl f’me.”

“that’s it, sweetheart. take it.”

once the waves finished hitting you, your chest was rising and falling heavily. carmen peppered light kisses along your neck, being gentle as to your state, but you were having none of it. you reached for his belt.

“greedy.”

you smiled lazily at him. “any objections, chef?”

he smirked at you, letting his fingers ghost over your sensitive core. a shiver ran up and down your spine at the almost painful action. “be careful — or i’ll make you cum again.”

you knew he wasn’t joking. you let out a slight giggle before you dragged the zipper and his boxers down. freeing his cock, you pumped his shaft.

carmy was once dominantly kissing your neck and whispering mean things in your ear, but now he was using the crook of your neck to support his forehead.

“you have such a pretty cock, carmy,” you whispered in his ear. there was something so comforting about being intimate with a man where you both could be vulnerable, and you weren’t sure if you would ever let it go. you want him everywhere he would let you have him. “i don’t know if i want it in my mouth or inside me more.”

he chuckled at that, crooning back into your embrace when you would touch a very sensitive part of him. “dirty girl — you’re so fuckin’ evil.”

you were worried the friction was becoming too much for him, but you didn’t want to raise your hand to your own lips, so you swiped some of the juices from your core and used it to lubricate the skin of carmy’s cock. it was a quick motion — you didn’t think he’d notice, and plus his eyes were most likely closed.

but when he spoke, you froze.

“do-do that again.” his voice was rough with lust. “do that again for me.”

you were hesitant at first, but you decided to make a show of it. you slowly dragged two fingers up the length of your slit and rubbed a very slow circle around the circumference of your clit. you gasped at the sensitivity, slightly jumping at the touch.

“fuck, that’s hot,” he groaned, breath humid on your neck.

you smirked at his response and reached for his cock. your hand slipped along the smooth skin of his cock, drawing a deep groan from carmen. the poor man was so sensitive — almost aching from what giving everything he had to you previously felt like.

“so big, carmy,” you breathed. “so big and pretty.”

“y’know what would be prettier?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your jaw line. “watching you put it inside you. can you do that, baby?

you smiled at him devilishly. carmy’s hands shoved the rest of your jeans down your legs and flung them somewhere in the room. your pussy was aching — dripping for the man before you. the sensitivity had left you, no longer prickling at your nerve endings. all that was left was the want for more — anything carmy had to give you.

“please,” you whined, rubbing the head of his cock against your glistening folds.

“i love when you beg f’me,” he groaned. “such a good fuckin’ girl.”

both of your lines of sight drifted down to the view of your hips. you both watched in awe as you lined carmy up with your entrance as he pushed his hips towards you.

the throws of passion and want for carmy were intense, sure — but so was the want to enjoy this while he could. he pushed in the tip of his cock, groaning slightly as your tight hole encased him. you whines at the barely filled feeling — so empty, needing more. carmy, however? carmy didn’t care. he wanted to feel every push and pull of your muscles between your hips.

carmy kept his eyes turned down at your pussy and you swallowed more and more of him inside you. he gripped the flesh of your waist, fingertips digging into you. your own hands were splayed our flat against the cool countertop of the table — a direct juxtaposition of the boiling feeling that electrified the top of every inch of your skin. you whined as carmy took his time with his thrusts, pulling back every so often when he felt resistance, and then pushing back in ever so slightly, yet slightly farther, each time.

“please, more,” you gasped, folding your lip between your teeth. “i want all of you.”

“baby isn’t patient, huh?” he asked, continuing with his motions. “gotta have it all, when you want it?”

“i can’t be teased right now,” you sobbed. it was pathetic how needy you were, but fucking christ did it turn carmy on.

“this what you want, baby?” he asked, pushing into you deeper.

your walls were squeezing him like he was the only thing that existed to you. the burn at your entrance was something so bittersweet, something so delicious — you didn’t know how you were going to keep control and make this special for him as well, let alone how you weren’t going to cum right then. but you didn’t care — you didn’t have the strength to care.

“yes, carmy — please,” you begged, bucking your hips into him weakly. “fuck — your cock feels so good.”

“yeah, baby?” he pressed into deeper. “so impatient you can’t handle it slow?”

“i want you to fuck me, carm,” you bit with lust dripping from every word. “fuck me — use me however you want — please.”

fuck.

that set him off.

carmy was a patient and low maintenance man, sure, out of necessity and convenience mostly. however, when he had the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, with a dirty mouth to match, talking back to him, and begging him to be selfish?

fuck patience. fuck ease. and fuck being selfless.

carmen’s grip tightened on your waist, and he pushed the last parts of his cock inside you.

it immediately hit you right where you needed him — that soft, sensitive spot so deep that barely anyone before him could dream of reaching. your walls gripped the smooth skin of his cock and you screamed. you fucking wailed when he finally pounded into you painfully, but so fucking sweetly.

“dirty — fucking — girl,” he grunted, thrusting upwards into your pussy.

there was nothing like the sight of carmy finally taking what he wanted. no expression of shame, or guilt, or hesitation on his face — just a man, slightly bent over before you, inside of you, holding you so close to him because, in that moment, you could give him what he wanted — needed. and, in that moment, all he needed was you.

the side of his face was pressed against yours, breathing heavily into your ear. the few groans he let escape his throat were guttural — almost animalistic. they went straight to your core, practically flooding around his cock. your whines of pleasure forced his hips forward and back faster and harder with each motion. balancing your weight and carmy’s with a firm hand of yours behind you on the table, you clamped your free hand on the back of his neck. you twisted a few stray strands of his hair around your fingers, tugging at them. every thrust caused you to pull his hair, him, closer and harder into you.

“laythefuckdown,” he spat, to your surprise.

the command startled you, sure — but it also made you bite your lip in anticipation. he pressed a wet, heavy kiss to your cheek, throwing butterflies in your lower stomach, as you released him. before you could lay down, he stopped you.

“you want to give me what i want, baby?” he whispered against your lips.

you nodded, gazing at him with dark, lust filled eyes.

“then i want your pussy to finish around my cock,” he stated. “think you can do that f’me?”

“y-yeah,” you replied, shakily, but full of trust.

you laid down and carmy regained his footing at the end of the table, keeping his cock pressed firmly inside you as he stood above you. his cock twitched against your most sensitive spot inside you, and you whined at the new angle. he gripped one of your hips firmly, but let his other hand ghost up your glistening lips.

“such a pretty fucking pussy,” he rasped, gazing at it. “takes my cock so well. but right here…”

he pressed his thumb against your clit.

you would’ve jumped if his hand wasn’t keeping you locked to the table.

“this is what i want,” he spat. “so fucking pretty.”

he began rubbing rough, fast circles on your clit. your legs were shaking from the overstimulation, and you thought you could cry from the sensation. your back arched off the table, and your hands struggled to find something to grip — to balance you as carmy tortured you.

but then his cock started working itself back into you again, hitting that spot that needed him so badly.

“think you can cum like this, baby?” he asked, taunting you. “be a good girl for me, yeah?”

“yes — !” you groaned, reaching for the end of the table with one hand. grabbing it, you tried to steady yourself, but it was no use. not with carmy. “fuck — it’s so much — it’s too much carmy —“

“gonna cum for me, sweetheart?”

you threw your head up to stare at the man. he was rocking into you like that was the only thing he knew, fucking you like it was the only thing he wanted, but there was so much focus on his eyes. so much focus on you.

“gonna give me what i want?”

“yes, yes,” you were nodding your head so pathetically, so sweetly for him. tears were practically threatening to spill over the corners of your eyes, but they glistened at him, and only him, and god did it fuck with him. “please, carmy — let me cum for you.”

“do it,” he ordered. “fuck, baby — cum for me.”

your hips were bucking against his pelvis and his hand, too erratic for him to be precise like he wanted to. you were chasing his fingertips, chasing the orgasm that even in his selfish state he was so generous to give. whines left your throat involuntarily as the intensity in your lower abdomen grew, and grew, and grew. your eyes were screwed shut as you pushed yourself to your elbows, holding yourself up as you couldn’t help but curl into yourself. carmen may have been looking at you, or something else — it didn’t matter. all you saw was the black of your eyelids, until is was white.

white. pure white.

your finger nails dug into the meat of your palms as the heat spread from your womb to the entirety of your body. every nerve ending and hair rose to the highest point of height they could, and you held your breath. the feeling of immense pleasured you washed over you — wave after wave, after wave, after wave. it hit you, it crashed into you, it fucking drowned you — it swallowed you whole until you were gasping for air. your orgasm was violent — practically mine splitting. you were shaking. you were sensitive beyond belief, beyond repair — and the prickling feeling wouldn’t stop. you were gasping for air as you looked down, only to find carmy’s hand still working between your thigh.

still rubbing those fucking circles.

“c-carmy,” you sputtered, tears wet in the corner of your eye. “please — i c-can’t.”

“shhh,” he whispered. “just keep cumming, baby. just keep cumming for me.”

your chest split open at that, throwing you back against the table top. shivers went up and down your spine as you took carmy’s torture.

“that’s it, baby. that’s it.”

his words were music to your ears as you screamed for him.

“ohh, fucking shit — that’s it —“ he hissed. “just like that. take it all for me — oh, fuck.”

you were dazed and confused on carmy’s table, basically seeing stars. absolutely useless, fucked out beyond words. you felt the weight and warmth of carmy’s body lean over, and rest against yours, as his hips sloppily rocked into you.

you wrapped your legs around the middle of carmy’s back, locking him in place. one hand went to clamp on the back of his head, and the other pressed against the side of his cheek.

against his lips, you whispered, “cum for me, carmy, please. i want to feel you inside of me.”

“good — fucking —“ he grunted, pressing his lips to yours in a farm, hard kiss as he shook. carmy’s tongue shoved itself into your mouth, and down your throat. carmy was everywhere — so deep in every part of you. you hummed with each moan of his you swallowed, rocking your hips against his and rocking him through his orgasm. gasps left his lips as he gripped any part of you he could, doing anything he could to hold onto you and keep you in place.

“holy f-fucking shit,” he gasped against your cheek, pressing kisses to your cheek and the length of your neck. “that — that was — it was so —“

“i know,” you spoke, giggling slightly.

carmy laid his head against your collarbone and you weaved his wet curls around your fingers. he rested fully against you, completely relaxed.

“fuck your friends,” he mumbled. “stay here tonight — as long as, um — you want to, that is.”

your giggle hummed in your chest. carmy’s confidence leaving him in the middle of the sentence surprised you slightly, but not enough to leave you unamused. “‘m not imposin’?”

he chuckled at that, and pulled you up from the table and into his arms. "fuck off."

-----

lmk what you think :) love yall -L

[bi-writes]

more childhood-bestfriend!roommate!simon x fem!reader because im a mess inside and he can fix me

more bestfriend!roommate!simon (part 2/?)

cw: unwanted suggestive advances (verbal only), protective!simon

he wont leave. he's been sitting at the counter all night, nursing a mug of coffee that he keeps sneaking splashes from his flask into. he's gotten progressively drunker as the hours passed, but you paid him no mind, continuing to serve other customers. you said nothing to him, just kept refilling his mug when he held it out to you and ignoring him.

"what a pretty dress, love...look at ya."

"got somewhere to be after this? wanna grab a drink?"

"ya look so nice, got the eyes of a kitten...hope ya don't bite..."

the patrons that passed by him glared and told him to shut up, but he just kept whispering to you as you went by him. you shrugged it off gracefully, keeping the smile on your face as you poured someone more coffee. words were harmless, and even though he came off as a creep, he was drunk--and drunk people were stupid people.

you smoothed out the skirt of your dress. it was short, riding up every time you reached up on a high shelf. you tried not to snap at the man every time he whistled when you did.

when you made your way to the back to pick up a few plates, one of the cooks asked if you were okay.

"fine," was how you answered. "besides, if he makes a move, i dont think he'll like it when i pour hot coffee down his pants."

but he wont leave. he has been sitting there, and the clock read two in the morning, and your shift was ending.

he wont leave. he was in your way, blocking the door to the counter. he stumbled a little on his feet, and you raised your brow.

"you gonna move? youre in my way," you said finally, sighing.

"whoa, whoa...no need to get all bent out of shape. i need another coffee."

"my shift is over. get your own damn coffee."

you moved to go around him, and he stepped to the side, blocking you again.

"whoa, whoa! all fiery all of the sudden? cmon, darling, let's go get a drink, yeah?"

"listen, i've been patient and kind all night," you laughed bitterly. "but you're starting to get on my last nerve. so why don't you sit down, pay your bill, and go home, huh?"

he didn't like that. he frowned, puffing out his chest a little, narrowing his eyes.

"hey, you got a mouth on ya, pretty lady, and i don't like it."

"oh yeah? look how much i care," you snapped. "now get out of my way, or ill make you."

the bell chimed above the door, ringing and filling the tension in the room. you sneered at the man who tried to intimidate you, clenching your jaw.

"oi," a familiar voice spoke up. "do we have a problem here?"

"yeah, mate, this fuckin' waitress thinks she can say whatever she wants to customers and still get a tip."

"i would watch your tone if i were you," you spoke lowly. "he doesn't like it when you're rude."

"listen, here--"

the man raised his hand, and suddenly a gloved hand shot out and gripped his wrist, tugging him backwards.

"oh, mate, what are y'thinkin', huh?" simon towered over him. taller, broader, the black of his outfit making him that much more intimidating and that much more frightening. his hood was up, his eyes the only visible part of him, but they were angry. hard and dry and angry, narrowed as he used one arm to yank the man backwards, putting himself between you. "you raise a hand, y'raise it to me, yeah? ohhh...what's the matter? lost your voice all of a sudden?"

"i-i...i--"

"this man givin' you a problem, luv?" simon asked. he turned his body to face him, tightening his grip on the man's wrist. the man hissed, his knees buckling a little as he grabbed a nearby table for support.

"it's fine, simon," you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. "he's just...drunk."

"i don't believe that for a second."

simon shoved him away, watching as the man's back slammed into the window behind him. he shook, terrified, covering his face with his arms.

"i think you knew exactly what you were doin'," simon accused. "y'like preying on pretty women, mate? well, unfortunately for you, i taught this one a nasty right hook, and i might just let her have some practice, would you like to practice, luv?"

"hey, i think he gets the point," you put a hand on simon's arm, soothing the tense muscle there with gentle circles. "let's go home."

"i dunno, does he get the point?"

the man nodded furiously, sinking to the ground as he kept his hands up for protection.

"right, if you get the point, why are you still fuckin' in here?!"

simon slammed the window next to him with the palm of his hand, and the man scrambled to his feet ungracefully, the bell dinging as he scurried out into the dark. you raised a brow as simon turned around, rolling out his neck as he narrowed his eyes at you.

"you happy now?" you asked, shaking your head. "who am i kidding? youre not happy unless you put the fear of god in men, huh?"

simon held the door open for you, a hand on the small of your back as he guided you outside.

"not god, luv."

you smiled. "ohhh, thats right...fear of you."

he grunted in response, and you slipped your arm around his, watching your feet as you walked.

"you're not scary, simon. sorry to tell you."

he chuckled lowly. "not to you, maybe."

"no..." you looked back up and him, and he met your eyes. he couldn't tell that it was love in your eyes. perhaps because maybe he'd never seen it before; he wouldn't know what it really looked like. "never to me, simon."

[piratefishmama]

Just ONE chance

Stephanie Harrington never intended to be a whole presence online.

She hadn’t even really understood the whole thing at first, it didn’t exist when she was a kid! An if it did it sure as hell wasn’t in every nook and cranny of the globe like it now seemed to be. Kids with iPads, hands glued to phones, six year olds who simply had to have the latest Apple thing.

It was all Dustin’s idea. King of the Gadget. Overseer of all things technology. Gargantuan nerd. Stevie’s little brother.

Not biologically, Claudia, Dustin’s mother had basically adopted Stevie when her own parents had tragically lost control of the wheel during a storm and wrapped their car around a tree back when Stevie was still a teenager. Back when Stevie was still Dustin’s regular babysitter and very suddenly found herself alone having been babysitting when the news reached her.

They’d been coming back from a business trip that she hadn’t been able to go with them on because of school. They’d been so close to home. She’d heard the sirens. They’d been that close.

It was fine though, in one fell swoop, yes she lost her parents, but she gained Claudia, and Dustin, and that was enough, because she sure as hell didn’t get anything else from them. It was all swallowed up, snatched away by her parents business partners because people are sharks and she just… wasn’t prepared to fight them on any of it, especially not when her parents had stupidly left her without a will.

Apparently they believed they’d live forever! The money vanished, the house was sold, she was left with nothing.

With growing up in the Henderson house, came choices, some great, some really stupid, and some that’d led to the very happy accident of Rosie.

To be fair to herself, she’d been in quite a long term relationship at that point! It was a happy one too! She’d thought he’d be it. Sure he’d been a lot rough around the edges, at the start, it’d been a shame cycle at the beginning since he was in fact, a colossal prick, but he was also the hottest guy she’d ever seen. Like, unfairly attractive considering his personality, and he knew exactly how to touch her to melt her icy resolve into a watery mess.

But once he’d gotten away from his dipshit of a father, his step mother dragging him with her when she escaped the man too, once Stevie had laid down the law of how little of the bullshit he’d learned from said father she’d personally tolerate before he’d get a boot out the door, he’d come around.

The racism had stopped immediately. The attitude had ebbed bit by bit as feelings set in, and he’d become a regular ol handsome teddy bear, he’d allowed himself to soften after he’d escaped the only reason he’d had to protect himself.

He’d even started getting along with his step sister, one of Dustin’s friends.

Then stupidity happened when they ran out of condoms, her cycles stopped, and three months in, two drunk idiots in a pickup ran a stoplight while he was getting her some ice cream. Doctors said he probably hadn’t felt a thing.

Rosie came along, a beautiful little thing, had her dad’s soft cheeks, his stormy eyes, thick dark lashes and soft curls, but she took after Stevie in everything else.

Stevie didn’t date after that. A personal choice really. She’d lost her parents, lost her love, and now she had a little girl to focus on, she was done. She felt herself complete! So what if she was still in her mid-twenties. Life had dealt her a hand, she was going to run with it.

Rosie would always come first, and she didn’t like explaining where Rosies father was, she didn’t like the look of pity on people’s faces, the apologies, the rinse and repeat cycle, and so she just. Didn’t bother!

It was easier! She had Rosie, she had her adoptive mother, she had Dustin, she had Billy’s sister Max and her other half Lucas, she had Susan, she had Robin, her co-worker and platonic soulmate from that dumb job at the mall she’d picked up to help Claudia with the bills, she had a whole support network, and she was fine.

Soon Rosie was in preschool, and then middle school, and the internet became a household thing, houses had computers, kids had phones, then smartphones, laptops, tablets, and suddenly the internet was everywhere and everyone had to be on it.

So there she was now. Mid-thirties, with a little girl, and a house paid for by her little brother.

Dustin had struck gold with a job at NASA, he’d put the downpayment on a little two bed house with a cute picket fence lined garden for her when Rosie was born without consulting her, just did it and “SURPRISE STEVIE, now get the hell out of mom’s basement, Jesus Christ.” Kept paying until it was all hers, and that was that… until he came round with computers and gadgets and then she had the internet because Rosie would need it for school because while libraries were awesome he’d had to suffer the five books at a time, Dustin rule one too many times and the internet had UNLIMITED books.

And now Stevie had a smart phone, and apps, and Instagram was fun! Doomscrolling the FYP took up chunks of her days off work while Rosie was at school! She never intended to be a name on there. She’d heard that people could become known for stuff, go viral or whatever.

She never intended to do that. She was a mother. Not even a hot young mom either. She was in her thirties! She remembered when the world didn’t have internet, she was there.

She posted work out videos, never having lost the competitive streak she’d always had as a teenager, sports were her thing back in high school, Gymnastics specifically, which led into cheering. She’d done some competition once with the team but nothing huge, she was fit, healthy, and the subject of many a thirst comment that she pointedly ignored.

She’d posted the occasional rant about Sally the PTA bitch with the self-proclaimed “best potato salad in the State” while doing her morning makeup, still never paying much mind to the comments section, the little rapidly climbing number that signalled followers, or the occasional DM from brands wanting to ‘collab’.

She didn’t care for that, she just wanted to post her little videos in peace. In retrospect, if peace was what she wanted, the lunch trend… probably wasn’t the best one to pick up. It was just a trend though! She’d seen a few moms doing it! Just posting little harmless videos online of what they’d pack their kids for lunch every day!

Harmless, fun! She loved making Rosies lunches, she saw no harm in sharing the fun!

They were always affordable, packed with healthy options, and creative too! She tried her hand at sushi, Rosie hated it, Robin loved it, so Robin got the sushi rolls in her lunches instead, picked up every morning when she grabbed Rosie on the way into work, they were both going to the same place after all, Robin taking on the music teacher role at the Middle school Rosie attended.

She tried noodle jars, cool wraps, made shapes and fun little animals out of fruit, she got creative, but they were all very cookie cutter videos, they all had the same vibe, similar content, it was something to fill her free time that she enjoyed so never in a million years would she have ever predicted that ONE of them, would cause so much chaos.

It started with the beeping.

The incessant pings sometime in the early hours of the morning. Notifications on her phone going off one after the other until she was forced to sit up, bleary eyed, and stare with squinted eyes at the far too bright screen of her phone, then she silenced it and went back to sleep.

With the chaos of the morning routines, getting Rosie up, washed, dressed, packed up for school, and out the door, she didn’t think about the incessant little beeping she’d silenced. It was a distant memory buried under the fog of a heavy sleep and continued to be a distant memory right up until Dustin appeared at her doorstep at around one in the afternoon midway through her afternoon workout, ruffled, stressed, flustered, and frankly just a little too sweaty.

He bypassed all niceties, as usual, bulldozing straight to the point, he pinpointed her phone, which sat comfortably on the countertop, seemingly oh so innocent, grabbed it, brandished it up as if to highlight its very existence and just “Woman, do you LOOK, AT YOUR PHONE?!”

Now, Stevie was not in the business of accepting a tone like that, especially not from her little brother. No matter how much he’d shelled out for the house, the attitude had to go. “Tone problem you little shit, fix it now or get the fuck out of this house and try again later.”

To his credit, he took a breath, and fixed it “Sorry, I’m sorry, but—look! Look at it, please, for the love of Christ, the internet is freaking out.”

“What?”

“Your video yesterday! The one with the like… teddy bear thing you did? With the rice an the—”

“Rosies lunch?”

“Yeah! Have you seen the comments on it?” Stevie rolled her eyes and went about picking up her things, workout sufficiently disrupted, she wouldn’t be able to pick that pace back up now. “Stevie?”

“You know I don’t look at those, people get weird on the internet, it’s like it gives weirdos the perfect place to be their weirdest selves and not in a good way.” She’d looked at them once, curiosity had gotten the better of her once upon a time and wound up having to ask Max what ‘OF?’ meant. She’d taken the win, let it momentarily boost her self-confidence, and decided to never look again. She was done with all that.

“Stevie, this time… one of those weirdos, is famous.” Since it was the age of the internet, Stevie regarded him with a look of disinterest, ‘famous’ could be anything, it could be some dweeb behind a computer screaming obscenities at a mic hooked up to some ridiculously overpriced gaming PC for likes. It could be a podcast bro with half a brain cell kicking its long since dead other half, it could be—“rockstar famous.” Dustin clarified. “One of the guys from that band I like? Corroded Coffin, they just—” he swiped the phone, letting out a soft scoff as the screen just flicked to life, no security pin to be seen of course, no matter, he’d probably berate later, he had a video to find and—“Ah-hah! Look!” and a phone to once again shove into his big sister’s face.

“That’s not even my video!”

“I know! They took the comment down already, but it’s EVERYWHERE, look!” Someone had screenshots. It wasn’t just one video covering it, Dustin scrolled, another popped up soon after, someone getting a little too excited about what was probably the most unfortunate of accidents.

“Don’t they have like… I dunno, people running their accounts? A person? Maybe their internet person just forgot to log out of that account?”

“No! Eddie runs it! The guitarist? Eddie Munson, he usually runs it all himself so everyone thinks it’s him, AND—AND LOOK!” Dustin clicked on the Corroded Coffin’s account, then tapped on the most recent post. Just a big black square, with the word ‘Whoops’ in big bold white lettering, captioned ‘I regret nothing. Just ONE chance, sweetheart, just one.’ With a little prayer hands emoji. “He’s ASKING you out!”

“He’s being a freak on the internet” hands found her hips, the classic mom pose. Immovable, stubborn.

“He’s always a freak! But he’s really cool! He does like, Make A Wish stuff, and—and visits children’s hospitals dressed up like fantasy characters, and he runs DnD things on the account every few months an he’s just REALLY cool, I mean they’re all really cool but Eddie is really cool maybe—maybe you could—”

“Upend my life, Rosie’s life, for a guy I don’t know, who has a job that takes him all over the world, who probably has his pick of whoever the hell he wants so what exactly could I bring to the table to keep him around? I’m done with all that shit, Dusty… I had my time, I have Rosie, I have everything I need. What makes you think I’d even like him?”

“You liked Billy.”

“Get out.”

“No, wait, not like that, I mean, they’re the same! Well, okay, not the same, Eddie didn’t start out a giant prick an he’s never been racist, but they’re sorta similar, similar music tastes, shit fathers, he’s rough round the edges, lil scary looking sometimes but he’s just a big softie when you get past the whole, scary dog thing. Eddie’s like… if Billy never had a shit dad. I just think that maybe… if you looked him up, maybe you’d… I dunno, you’d like him… maybe he’d be your kind of guy… maybe you could finally find someone who appreciates you… you’re not supposed to be on your own, Stevie.”

“Yeah well, I’m not. I have Rosie, and Robin, an you guys… an y’know. Bob.”

“Bob?” One of her patented looks told him all he needed to know, he jerked back in revulsion “ew! God! Fine, could you just! I dunno, look him up or something? Just think about it, I swear he’s really cool an I’d—”

“You’d love free tickets to their next concert.”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Alright then, nice to see you Dustin. Always a pleasure to have you round, please get the hell out of my house.” 

“UggGGGGGHHHHH, STEVIIIIEEE!!!”

“Uggghh, DUSTIIIIN! You interrupted my work out for internet pervert nonsense.” She began shooing him toward the door “Shoo, shoo. I have a family sized bar of chocolate to work off my hips before it gets stuck there.”

“He’d love your hips! With the addition of chocolate bars or not!”

“Weird! Out!” Out the door he went, it closed behind him.

That of course didn’t stop him from yelling through the door, “Just look him up!! I promise you won’t regret it!” But she mostly ignored him, until he went away.

Mostly because… Dustin never spoke up in favour of men before. He’d even gone through a period of hinting at maybe just switching sides and dating Robin when he found out Robin was a lesbian, but both women had promptly shut that down every single time he tried bringing it up.

He wasn’t a huge fan of men.

He’d been raised by a strong independent woman, he’d had a strong female role model in Stevie who’d pushed through every trauma life had thrown at her, he had Robin, he had Max, Jane, Erica, he had Nancy his friend Mike’s older sister, one of his friends had also been raised by a strong independent woman, he’d been surrounded by strong women his entire life with only one real solid male figure.

And that was his middle school science teacher, Scott Clarke. Which was kind of sad when you thought about it.

For him to really vouch for a man, it meant something! It wasn’t something to ignore, even if every instinct Stevie had told her to just. Leave it. What kind of man could a rockstar lifestyle have created. What kind of red flags could Eddie Munson be hiding that Dustin couldn’t (or didn’t want to) see.

Did he really even mean it?

Was it actually Eddie, and not someone else from the band? Would she be seen as foolish for even entertaining the thought? It wasn’t like she’d ever paid attention to the bands Dustin liked, so surely nobody would see her as a weird fan for thinking about it, right? She didn’t even approach him!

He approached her!

Shit like that didn’t just happen though. Or did it? Could it? Was she stupid to even entertain the thought?

Before she knew it, it was time to pick Rosie up, and she hadn’t even finished her work out. it was fine, her hips could handle a chocolate bar. For now. Its days were numbered.

[xvysarene]

𝔽𝕒𝕥𝕒𝕝 𝔸𝕥𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

Pairing: Sylus x Fem!Reader Prompt: “Why do you always have to get under my skin?” Words: ~2k Genre: Suggestive Notice: Mentions of wound, profanities

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

Halting at the top of the stairs leading to your flat, your hands tightened around the pocket knife you had begun to carry.

Your eyes scanned the swaying tree nearby, certain that you had caught sight of that damn crow once again.

Since waking up on the white sheets of the hospital two weeks ago, after being rescued from a kidnapping by a certain someone who seemed to vanish into thin air (again), you often caught the mechanical black bird at the corner of your eye.

Locking the front door behind you with a click, the familiar surroundings of your home offered a brief moment of comfort.

Until your eyes landed upon the man sitting on your couch. He sat there as if he belonged.

“To what do I owe this displeasure?” You sighed, not even questioning how he got in, though your door was accessible only with your fingerprint.

A small smirk played at the corner of Sylus’s lips. “It’s good to see your feistiness returning.”

“If you saved me and paid my hospital bills in hopes to gather more information, you’ll be disappointed. I have none.”

One eyebrow, a shade darker than his hair, arched at the unexpected accusation. “Is it so hard to believe that was purely my good intention?”

“I became a puppet in whatever beef you had with my kidnappers. It would be stupid of me to assume that you’d do a goodwill for someone you claim not to care about,” you said bitterly, the memory of the event happening a couple of weeks ago flooding back vividly.

“The great man Sylus can’t take it when someone touches his whore. We were just about to have fun, weren't we, darling?”

Sylus remained unfazed by your capturer’s mockery. One of the lifeless goons was still dangling from his grip, and he casually chucked it to the ground as though it weighed nothing.

If you hadn’t been watching his eyes closely that day, you would have missed the quick flick of his gaze taking the blossoming bruise on your cheek, the half-ripped blouse, and the cold blade pressed against your neck, biting into the tender skin.

“I don’t care about her,” he drawled. 

And not once did his eyes lock with yours. It was stupid to feel hurt by his indifference. You wouldn’t be there in the first place if it weren't for this heartless prick.

Yet his words stung deeply.

The feeling of the wooden door flushed against your back grounded you to the present, trapping you in as he silently closed the distance.

Struggling to remain undaunted, you continued, “You completely ignored me after manipulating me to gain information on the hunters who had begun meddling in your business—”

“I ignored you so those hunters wouldn’t trace you back to me,” he cut you off.

It took a few seconds to let his words sink in. “What?” You gaped.

“Your kidnappers were among the hunters you mentioned to me. They were not UNICORNS’, they were rogue hunters whose leader I killed. That’s why they were after me.”

He ran a hand through his face. “When I realised how unknowingly deep you were in this mess, I had to divert their attention away from you.”

His towering height prompted you to tilt your head upward. The ghost of his fingertips tracing from your cheek, down to the side of your neck, caused you to flinch in surprise.

“What do you think those lowlifes would do if I show even an ounce of care towards you?”

While the bruises had subsided, the scar from where the blade had grazed you remained.

A muscle ticked in his jaw seeing the jagged line. “You weren’t supposed to be involved at all.”

“A bit too late now isn’t it?”

His eyes darkened, an ember of fury passing through them. “I ensured they suffered tenfold for what they did to you, and only then did I end them.”

The sound of breaking bones and desperate noises from that day rang in your head. It was a blessing in disguise that your eyes screwed instinctively as the captor callously tossed you aside.

You didn’t even want to witness the horrors Sylus had done to them.

Your silence drew his eyes down to the pocket knife still clutched in your hand, now looking so harmless. Wouldn’t it be nice to be born with the Evol gene? Maybe then you could’ve protected yourself better.

“Are you still planning to stab me with that?”

“Depends.” Your chin lifted defiantly.

A glint of amusement danced in his eyes as he chuckled lowly, sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

You hated your body for reacting that way. It was infuriating how effortlessly he could affect you.

“Why are you here then? What more do you want from me?”

“You,” he said without a heartbeat’s pause, “I want you.”

It felt as if the air had been stolen from your lungs, leaving you breathless.

Sylus was a big, red warning sign. Much like his eyes. And yet, when he locked you in that magnetic gaze, your brain short-circuited.

He’s got you spellbound ever since you first met him at The Nest, acting like a gentleman by saving you from the overly handsy drunk patrons, before worming his way into your life with calculated charm.

Every colleague had warned you about him, yet you still chose to dance with danger.

“You think you can just walk in here and take whatever you want?”

A slow smile curved the corner of his lips, leaving you torn between wanting to slap it off his face or kiss it away.

Maybe both.

“I can try, right?” His confidence was maddening, and yet, it drew you in like a moth to a flame.

Your mind screamed to push him away, to run, but your body betrayed you, entranced by the undeniable tension that always seemed to exude whenever the two of you were near each other.

“Why do you always have to get under my skin?” you were too breathless, too vulnerable for your liking.

He dipped his head closer, his voice a low, intimate murmur by your ear, “Figuratively or literally?”

The feel of his rough, masculine fingers at the nape of your neck sent your heart racing. 

Haunting reminders of them tightening around your throat, the pressure mirroring his relentless thrusts, would forever be burned in the back of your mind.

Oh, and how could you forget how those fingers always managed to find your sensitive spots, teasing and exploring with an expertise that was both exhilarating and overwhelming?

His hands knew your body as if it were an instrument crafted just for him, every caress producing a harmony of sensations that only he knew how to play.

As he repeated his question, daring you to answer him, you punched his firm chest. “Don't fucking play games with me, Sylus.”

“Who said I'm playing?” His other hand enclosed over your pocket knife, tossing it somewhere behind him. The clattering sound should’ve cleared your head, yet it didn’t. “I know what I’ve always wanted. You don’t know how hard it is to ignore you and not send every guy who eye-fucks you six feet under whenever I visit the bar.”

Underneath the surface of physical attraction and fleeting desires, there was always a complex connection between the two of you that couldn't be easily dismissed.

Those eyes, a deep, passionate red, always glowed with intensity when they fixed upon you, as if nothing else in this world could divert his attention.

As if he wanted to make you his, to protect and treasure with every fibre of his being.

“You're impossible,” you whispered, though it lacked conviction.

With a slight lift of one eyebrow, he asked you a question. So, what's it going to be?

He was a confident man. Direct. In no rush.

You should've felt ashamed when your hands moved of their own accord and tugged at his lapel roughly, but you couldn't care less when your lips met his with equal passion.

The familiar, distinct notes of leather melding with cedarwood enfolded you. As his big palms rested on your bottom, lifting you to ease the strain on your neck, your legs naturally encircled his taut form.

Feeling his thick arousal pressing firmly against your clothed, damp core was an exquisite torture, ripping a deep moan out of you.

Sylus devoured the sound like a starved man finally savouring a long-awaited meal.

His long legs carried you swiftly to the bedroom in less than ten strides, lowering your body onto the mattress with a surprising gentleness, though his lips revealed a contrasting intensity.

Exploring. Consuming. Desiring.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer as he drew a map of sloppy kisses along the curve of your neck.

Until he stopped short at the spot where you knew the slightly raised scar from the blade was.

“I am sorry, I should’ve kept you close.”

The crack of emotion seeping from his voice startled you, forcing your eyes open to meet his crimson orbs already focusing on you.

A vulnerability he hardly revealed to the world softened the stern lines of his face. Swirls of yearning and fury were a turbulent mix in his pupils.

“I won’t let anyone else hurt you again.”

How could this man be so full of contradictions?

He was rough and tender.

Brutal and compassionate.

“Just because I don’t possess any Evol, doesn’t mean that I’m fragile.” 

The caress of your palm cradling his cheek prompted his eyes to drift shut. His lips grazed your wrist, where the skin, once raw and marred red from being bound, had now healed up nicely.

“But if you get hurt because of me, then I will never be able to forgive myself, amore.”

If hearing the familiar pet name tumbling out of his lips didn’t turn you into mush, the sensation of his big palm sliding beneath your shirt certainly would.

His warm and protective touch on your bare flesh sent tingles racing along your skin.

“Come stay with me.”

You weren’t even able to let out a gasp of surprise as Sylus discarded your clothes at such an admirable speed.

“For the night? In the N109 zone?” your voice was embarrassingly high-pitched as his silver hair tickled your sensitive skin. Each kiss trailed lower down your chest like gentle raindrops.

“Do you really think I would let you go after tonight?” A small bite was the punishment you received for asking such a ridiculous question. “Everyone knows how important you are to me by now, and I'm not taking any chances with your security. Everywhere, anywhere—I don’t care, as long as I can keep you safe.”

One of his strong thighs settled in between your legs. The fabric of his pants felt so amazing against your throbbing centre, heightening your desire with each agonisingly slow friction.

It was not fair how he had you under his mercy while asking such a serious question. Perhaps this was his cunning way of ensuring you would say yes.

And you were a lost cause, head bobbing up and down the slightest as you surrendered to his control.

“I need your words, amore.”

His hair was dishevelled, sharp features were accentuated by the city lights as he leaned closer to your face again. Ever so subtle, he pressed his thigh more unforgivingly into your core, driving you crazy.

Red eyes twinkled with mischief as Sylus enjoyed watching you squirm underneath him, delighting in the unfiltered lust flushing your face with each teasing contact.

Ever the insufferable tease, he slid his hand underneath your pants, fingers millimetres away from where you needed him the most.

“Yes, I’ll stay with you! God, you’re the worst,” you almost screamed in frustration as your hips bucked. Gasping, you felt those wicked fingers finally descend lower. “Now, talk less and do more.”

A deep hum of satisfaction rumbled from his chest as you felt his grin on your lips, complying with your request. 

“I am no God, but I’ll make sure you chant my name.”

He would damn well make sure that you two would be christening every corner of his living space—now yours—starting from the sleek granite kitchen countertops, to the plush rug in the living room, all the way to the balcony beneath the moonlit sky.

⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST

[sugawhaaa]

HONGJOONG ONE-SHOT

🌙Jumping through rings🌙

Warnings::SMUT, mentions of pregnancy (?)

Pairing:: dom!Hongjoong x sub!fem!reader

Genre::BREEDING KINK, oral (fem rec) creampie, praise, spit play, crying, multiple rounds, wedding night, shower sex??, aftercare, reader mentions being on BC

A/N:: first of all, sorry this took 69 million years to write. Second of all I have mentioned on here b4 that I rlly rlly rlly don't like the thought of being pregnant and I'm basically infertile irl but ughh when I ovulate I always just think of Hongjoong impregnating me 😩 Tmi sorry not sorry

🎧::

You and hongjoong talked a lot about your wedding. From decorations to guests to food to photography. All of it was planned out to a T…including your wedding night.

A few days after Hongjoong proposed to you the two of you were getting ready for a night of fun but Hongjoong shyly brought up the ring around your finger. “I was wondering if you would like to have sex on the night of our wedding. I know it's kind of weird but I think it's somehow romantic…” he explains as he sits on the edge of the bed with you.

“Of course baby,” you smile and take his hand in yours. “If it's something you'd like to do on your wedding then I'm down,”

“And I was wondering if we could make it���extra special?” His offer seemed normal at first but when you asked him to go on he explained that he wanted to potentially have unprotected sex and openly explore our deepest desires. The two of you communicated a lot about it and finally got everything set in stone.

After your wedding you had a fun after party that was more relaxed. You were wearing your big wedding dress and Hongjoong was just wearing a black button up and dress pants that undoubtedly looked delectable on his ass. You were slightly worried about getting tired for your romantic night but it ended up being okay. Towards the end of the after party you and Hongjoong got back together again. Most of the day you spent apart being so busy with taking photos and meeting up with relatives and so on. At the end of the party it was mainly the best friends and of course Hongjoongs members.

They were all done up and presentable for their big bros big day. They all showered you in compliments as well and congratulated the two of you about a hundred times.

“Do you two have any plans for the rest of the night?” Mingi asked innocently and the rest tried to signal him not to bring it up. Hongjoong wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him, standing hip to hip.

“We have a few things in mind,” Hongjoong smiles at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Oh I did not need to know that,” Jongho makes a pained expression and the others make fun of him.

“Really though, I'm happy for you guys,” Seonghwa puts a hand on Hongjoongs shoulder. “Enjoy yourselves,” seonghwas smile was oddly sincere but you didn't mind. You thanked him and he handed the two of you a red envelope. The two of you knew exactly what that meant and instantly opened it. As you saw the amount of bills, the “cha ching” sound could be heard in your head.

“Jeez Seonghwa's spoiling us,” Hongjoong blushes from the great offer you guys were given.

“You deserve it,” he nods and gives Hongjoong a big hug and you a more gentle one.

Then the night came to an end. You said your goodbyes to the last few guests and as you and hongjoong began to clean up the wedding planners told the two of you to just go home and they'll handle the mess. Hongjoong picked you up bridal style as he walked you out to your car. He set you down before opening the car door for you.

“Ladies first,” he smirked as he held it open. You giggle softly as you hop in. Hongjoong closes the door before going over to his side. As the two of you drive home you look out the window as the street lights pass by. “You still…up for our plans?” He asks as his eyes fixate on the road. You turn to him quickly as you hear his voice.

“Of course. Are you?” You ask slightly worried.

“Of course baby. I was the one who brought it up afterall,” he smiles and as you come up to a very familiar intersection you notice he pulls to the side, going into the turning lane. You furrow your brows in confusion but let him do his thing. Though as he keeps driving you realize you're going in the opposite direction of your house.

“Um hongjoong, where are we going?” You look up at him and he smirks.

“I have one more surprise for you,”

When he pulls up to a love hotel your jaw drops.

“Hongjoong. Are you serious?” You laugh softly and he laughs at your reaction.

“Dead serious,” he turns the car off and the two of you open the doors simultaneously. “Five star rating and the rooms look real nice,” Hongjoong holds your hand as you walk up to the hotel. When you get inside you're greeted by the woman at the front desk and Hongjoong tells her about his reservation. The lady hands him a keycard with the room number on it and the two of you head up to your room. “I'm so excited to show you the room,” Hongjoong smiles, basically beaming with excitement. “It's gorgeous,”

The elevator stops on the top floor and you and hongjoong begin to search for your room. 771. You eventually find it and Hongjoong swipes the card before opening the door for you to get the first look at the room. Your jaw drops as you walk in. There was a massive bed in the center of the room with tall poles that held up red silky curtains, the blankets of the bed were red and gold with a beautiful trim along the bottom. There were two nightstands beside the bed that were a deep brown color with bright and warm lamps resting on top of them. Underneath the bed was a black and red carpet with swirly designs on it.

“Hongjoong, this is…” you were at a loss for words as you examined the room. The bathroom was black as well to match the theme and the nightstands had lots of items in there.

“Oh and here's the best part,” Hongjoong goes over to the bedside and draws back one of the curtains and rose petals covering the bed. “Real rose petals,” he smiled as he presented them to you and you rushed over to hug him.

“Thank you baby, this is more than I could ask for,” you say as you nuzzle into his neck. He pats your back with a warm smile before kissing your forehead.

“I'm glad you like it babe,” he pulls back from the hug and caresses your face. “Are you still wearing makeup?” He tilts his head slightly.

“Yeah only a little bit,” you blush softly and he grins.

“Good. I was hoping I could see it streaming down your face,” his words made your face heat up and he was only more amused by your reaction. He caresses your bottom lip softly before kissing you. “Why don't we get started hm?” Hongjoong runs his hands down the side of your body, and you hum softly, agreeing with him. He brings his hands around to the back of your dress and pulls down the zipper. As the faint zip echoes in the room you can feel the excitement rush through your body. All of this build up. You've been waiting for this night for months and you knew Hongjoong had even more in store for you.

Hongjoong gently pulls the dress off your shoulders and let's it pool at your ankles. You step out of the dress and set it aside. You stood before him in only your panties which made him smirk softly. He reached out to cup one of your breasts in his hands as he went to kids your neck softly. “Baby,” he says in a tone that makes your skin crawl with nerves.

══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══

“Yes?”

“I wanna breed you tonight.” He states with a hint of desperation and promise that makes your jaw drop. You go speechless for a moment. “Fill up that warm and wet little pussy that belongs to me,” he growls in your ear as his hands go down to your ass, gripping the flesh. “Tonight, I want you to be the dirtiest little slut; don't hold anything back. Be messy, be loud, be mean, be a kinky slut. Tonight, nothing else matters besides our kinks and undying love, alright?” He nuzzles his face against your shoulder before gently grinding his boner against your panties. “So, I revealed my secret kink, now what's yours?” He said with a seductive tone that made your cunt throb.

“I um…I'm not sure,” you look down softly. “Maybe…spit play? I honestly haven't explored my fantasies that deeply,” you admit before Hongjoong steps back, undoing his blouse.

“That's okay darling, that's why we'll explore tonight. Maybe some of our kinks align,” he smiles as he takes off his button up shirt. Your jaw drops as you see his muscles; he was ten times buffer than the last time you saw him shirtless.

“Oh my babe, have you been working out more?” Your eyes are locked on his chest as you feel yourself drooling over him. He blushes softly with a smile before nodding.

“Yeah…I wanted to impress you,” he begins to take off his pants before throwing them aside as well.

The two of you climb into the bed and pretty much as soon as your body makes contact with the bed and rose petals you begin to make out. Your hands tangle into his hair as your tongues dance rhythmically and your bodies are pulled together like magnets. The sound of wet lips and tongues twirling echo in the room along with moans and the sound of your skin rubbing against each other. The two of you breathe heavily as you make out and you feel Hongjoongs boner twitching and throbbing against your panties. “Baby…I don't know if I can do foreplay. I need my cock inside you,” he groans as you gasp for air after your heated kiss.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” You tease and Hongjoong instantly leans back and pulls off his boxers, his cock springing to life. As he takes off his boxers you pull off your panties, the middle of them are now a darker shade due to your arousal. Hongjoong runs a finger up your folds; his finger glides along with ease due to your slick.

"You're so hot baby, you gotta let me a have a taste," he leans down and runs his tongue along your slit; he moans as the tangy slick dances along his tongue. He then slurps your folds into his mouth suckling on the sensitive flesh. He moans as he sucks the juices out of your pussy as he buries his face in your cunt. "Such a pretty pussy," he moans against your folds as you buck your hips into his face. He then pulls back, his face wet with your arousal, and aligns his tip to your entrance.

He slowly pushes forward and your folds envelop his cock. The two of you moan simultaneously as the warmth courses through your bodies, and the long-awaited desire that had built up threatens to spill over. You both took a moment to catch your breath and soak up the pleasure of being joined once again. It had been at the very least a month since the two of you engaged in sex which made the pleasure even more exaggerated than usual.

"You're so hot baby," Hongjoong growls as he leans his body down closer to you. "Can't wait to fill you with my cum," he breathes heavily as he struggles to hold himself back. Your hands creep up to his back, clawing at his shoulder blades as he looms over you. He slowly moves his hips back and then forward again. Your moans sync again as you grip onto his cock.

"Please baby, I can't wait. Just fuck me," you whine as you throw your head back and a devilish grin spreads across his face.

"I know baby, but trust me; just wait a little longer," he whispers as his hips continue their slow and strategic pace. You whine as your body craves more of this addictive pleasure. "Good girl, deep breaths, show daddy how good you are," he says in a low and creamy voice that makes your walls clench around his cock. His hips begin to move faster and you find yourself able to control your reactions; your legs jerk up, toes curled, nails digging into his back, and your jaw hung open as moans spill over. "Hold it in baby, c'mon," Hongjoong encourages as his hips move faster and faster until your mind goes blank.

"I-I can't," your voice shakes as you speak and your body curls forward as you bury your face in his shoulder. "Please, fuck, I'm gonna cum!" You cry out but Hongjoong doesn't stop. His hips snap against yours furiously and you feel yourself coming undone as your moans echo in the room. "Hongjoong!" You cry out as your body shakes and Hongjoong tilts over the edge; spilling his seed inside you.

The two of you pant in harmony as Hongjoong gently thrusts to drag out the pleasure. You felt the warmth of his cum creeping up your body and you felt an unexpected euphoria at the fact he had cum inside you; something was so romantic and erotic about it.

"How do you feel my love?" Hongjoong rubs your cheek as he feels sweat building along his hairline and neck.

"Amazing," you chuckle and Hongjoong smiles before kissing you softly.

"Wanna try a new position?" He asks out of the blue and you nod. Hongjoong explains how to get into the position as he slips out of you. You'd bring your legs up against your body until your ankles reach near your head and hold your legs up with your arms. Hongjoong would then enter you and lean forward, basically squishing your bodies together, but it's supposedly really pleasurable, especially for the woman.

The two of you get into position and Hongjoong slips into you again; a symphony of moans escapes your throat as you feel his cock stretch you out again. You whimper as you claw at the backs of your thighs and hongjoong grins. "You like that?" He growls and all you can do is nod.

"'Feels so-so good," you whimper, slightly incoherently, and Hongjoong smiles; his hips moving faster thanks to your moans. The pleasure was overwhelming at this point, you couldn't even function, because this position made it so that every time Hongjoong thrusted back into you he'd hit your G-spot and A-spot basically at the same time.

Suddenly Hongjoong leans over and tosses the curtain out of the way to reach the desk. He grabs a vibrator and turns it on, startling you. "H-Hongjoong are you-?" And before you can speak you feel the vibrations on your clit buzzing through your body. "O-Oh shit!" You cry out as you bite your lip, your lip gloss potent on your tongue. You feel your eyes begin to water as your mind goes blank again and not even moans can slip through your lips.

Your legs shake aggressively as you tighten around his cock, so hard that he felt like you were cutting off the blood circulation, and it all came undone in a split second. A cry of pleasure tore through your throat as fluids gushed out of you onto Hongjoongs abs; he was stunned at first but quickly got turned on. He pulled out to watch the fountain of fluids spray from your body, thanks to his skills, before cumming onto your stomach.

"Oh yeah baby, good girl," he praises as he rubs your thighs. Your body falls limp as you pant and Hongjoong leans down to kiss your chest. "You did so good," he pulls back to look at the pure bliss written across your face but he finds your makeup smudged around your eyes. Hongjoong bites his lip as his cock springs up again. He blushes in embarrassment at how quickly he got hard again. He rubs your cheek softly, feeling the sweat and tears coat his finger as he admires your beauty.

"Thank you Hongjoong," you sigh as Hongjoong turns off the vibrator and sets it back on the nightstand. He smiles softly and kisses you.

"Thank you, Y/N" Hongjoong smiles as he helps you sit up. "You should drink some water after losing all that fluid," he gets up and retrieves two bottles of water from the mini fridge. He hands you one before chugging his own.

You watch as his Adam's apple bobs as the liquid goes down his throat; his neck shining with sweat. As he parts his lips from the bottle he sighs before turning over to look at you; you were frozen from his ethereal beauty. Your palm was still on the cap of the bottle as you looked at him slacked jawed and wide eyed. "Everything okay?" He chuckles softly as he slicks his hair back.

"Yeah I guess I just forgot how fucking hot you are," you laugh and Hongjoong blushes with a laugh as well.

"Thank you," he chuckles. "I think you're feeling the euphoria of those really intense orgasms. You're probably getting a rush of feel-good hormones which is exactly what I want," he smiles as sneaks a kiss. "Now drink up," he pats your leg to snap you back to reality, and you open up the water before chugging it. "Good girl," he smiles before you screw the cap back on and set it on the nightstand. "What do you wanna do next baby?" He tilts his head softly and you think for a moment.

"Well I have a position in mind..." you put a finger to your chin before smiling at him. You lay on your stomach and lift your ass up just enough for him to slip inside you. "Then you lean down until your chest is against my back and then, fuck me," you smile innocently and Hongjoong laughs.

"You really are a naughty girl aren't you?" He grins as he situates himself on top of you before slipping inside with ease due to all the cum and liquid from earlier. He lets out a soft sigh as he sinks into your warmth. "Is this okay?" Hongjoong asks, making sure you are comfortable and happy. You nod with a little hum and Hongjoong leans down a bit further, his chin resting on your shoulder. He brings his hands up to the backs of yours, your wedding rings rubbing up against each other.

As Hongjoong's hips begin to move the two of you stay relaxed and calm during this round. Soft praise and kisses filled the air along with soft gasps and whimpers. Hongjoongs fingers gripped tighter onto your hand as your rings pushed into each other. "I love you Hongjoong," you breathe out between moans. Hongjoong smiles before kissing the back of your shoulder.

"I love you too Y/N," he moans as he slides his cock in and out of you in such a rhythmic way. "I love...feeling my cock hit so deep inside you baby. I could fuck your pussy every day and night," he moans before burying his face in your shoulder, his thrusts becoming more urgent and harsh; his fingers tighten around yours as well. "I think I'm gonna cum again," he whimpers softly and the sound of his voice laced with lust is enough for your pussy to clench around him.

"Let it out baby," you say warmly as you rest your head against the pillow.

"'M gonna fill you up my cum," he moans softly as his eyes flutter shut and his lips part, his brows furrow slightly as the pleasure swallows him whole. "You're gonna take it all baby, yes, f-fuck-agh!" He moans with short, soft gasps as his warm seed begins to drizzle inside of you. You moan at the sensation, feeling pure bliss and excitement.

Hongjoongs hands tremble slightly as his orgasm subsides and his body relaxes. The two of you rest in silence for a moment, basking in the afterglow. Hongjoong buries his face in your back as he takes deep breaths. He wanted to ask you again how you were feeling but he was suddenly shy after his performance. "Why don't we...head to the shower?" He says partially out of breath. You smile softly as he sits up and pulls out.

"Yeah, good plan," you chuckle before lying on the bed, catching your breath for a moment. You look over at Hongjoong, who is currently doing the same as you, and you can't help but appreciate how he looks right now. His hairline sweaty, his cheeks flushed, his lips parted as his chest heaves with each breath. He then sits up and offers you a hand.

"Let's go shower," he helps you to the bathroom and turns on the water before hopping in with you. He closes the glass door as you begin to hose down your bodies. "So...did you like trying no protection? Or do you feel indifferent?" He chuckles as he grabs some soap to wash his hair.

"I loved it," you smile as you grab your own shampoo.

"Are you concerned about..." Hongjoong seems a little shy or flustered about this topic but you knew what he was entailing.

"I am still on the pill and even if something does happen we'll be prepared," you nod and Hongjoong sighs in relief as he washes out the shampoo.

"I'm glad," he sighs. "I feel like...well I kinda have a thing for...I guess people call it a breeding kink and I can't deny that I have it. Afterwards though I just get a little worried about the consequences of my fantasies," he admits as he rinses the soap out of your hair for you.

"I wouldn't worry about it baby," you shrug as you involuntarily put a hand to your lower stomach. "I do have to admit the feeling is intoxicating...the warmth and fullness sensation is undescribably amazing," you explain to him and a little smile creeps on your face.

"Is that so?" As he finishes rinsing your hair he creeps a hand down to your core again, swiftly fingering your clit causing you to gasp. You rest your head back against his shoulder as your hair clings to his wet body; soft moans escape your lips. "Wanna feel it again? My warmth inside you, my seed filling you up~?"

[munsonsmixtapes]

Just a Taste

cabana boy!Buck x rich!Eddie x bartender!fem!reader

summary: You and Buck compete for Eddie's attention until he offers up a key to his hotel room to the both of you.

word count: 6.8k

cw: MDNI (18+) fingering, smut (p in v) masturbation, voyeurism, anal, oral (both f and m receiving) nipple play, finger sucking, brief mention of struggle with sexuality

The California sun beat down on the pool on the very hot July day as Eddie sat in his lounge chair, sipping on the drink that had just been served to him. A pair of black sunglasses were sitting on his face and even though his eyes were closed, he could feel practically everyone staring at him. He knew he had that effect on people and would often use it to his advantage. Maybe that was why he was receiving such great service during his stay. Well, that plus the very hefty tips he was handing out like candy. 

After he felt like his sunscreen was fully dry, he stood up from his chair and slowly pulled his shirt off to reveal his very muscular, very hairy chest. You turned your attention to him and felt like you were being hypnotized as he lifted his arms in a stretch, giving you a very nice view of his happy trail. It should have been illegal to be able to walk around looking that hot. 

“Y/n, jesus christ!” Buck called out to you and you looked back to what you were doing, realizing that the cup you had been pouring into had been overflowing. You had completely forgotten that you had been pouring a drink for a customer that Buck was supposed to be serving, the man across the pool completely pulling you in, distracting you. 

“Sorry!” You apologized as you set the bottle back down on the bar and Buck just shook his head before turning to where you had been looking and his eyes locked on the man who you had been looking at. 

Eddie was still stretching and Buck pulled his sunglasses down to get a better look without the black tint. That man was easily the most beautiful one he had ever seen and suddenly, he didn’t blame you for your actions. Shit, if he had been in your position, he probably would have done so much worse. 

As soon as Eddie was in the water, Buck turned back to you, pushing his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. You could tell that he could see the appeal and you just let out a laugh as you handed him the cup that was sitting in front of you and he turned to bring it to the proper customer while you cleaned up the mess you had made.

Buck took the drink and made his way over to the woman who was lounging by the pool. He had been flirting with her all afternoon in the hope of getting a nice tip and it was working like a charm. He could see a crisp twenty dollar bill in her hand that she was holding out to him and that had to be one of the bigger tips he had received in the time that he had worked at the hotel. He would have thought that a bunch of rich people would have wanted to give more than five dollars for Buck’s hard work, but he supposed that small tips were how the rich stayed rich. 

“Here you are, one sex on the beach,” he offered the drink to her and she took it. The woman could have easily been the same age as his mother, but to Buck, a tip was a tip and he’d flirt with whoever he could if it meant he’d get a little extra cash.

“Thank you so much, Evan,” she smiled as she took a sip from the straw, making eye contact with him as she did so. He would flirt with customers all day long, but he made a vow that he’d never sleep with them. That was a line he’d never cross because it would always get blurry and he knew better than to mix business with pleasure.

“Of course, ma’am,” he nodded. “Enjoy.” With that, he turned on his heel and made his way back to the bar. Just as he turned, he ran into a very wet body, causing the platter that he was carrying to clatter to the pavement. He looked up at who he had run into and let his eyes rake over the very wet, very hairy chest that he found himself wanting to run his hands over.

The stranger picked up the platter and held it out to him and all Buck could do was stare, feeling his mouth become dry as he looked into the beautiful honey eyes that were staring back at him. Sure, he had come across men that he had been attracted to and had even dated a few, but never immediately wondered what they looked like naked. He could feel his cheeks getting red at the thought and the stranger just smiled at his shyness. 

“Th-thanks,” Buck replied, his brain suddenly forgetting every single word in the English language as he made eye contact with the very beautiful man in front of him. 

“No problem,” Eddie replied. “Can I get a towel when you get a chance?” Buck suddenly wished that a towel would have materialized right there, not wanting to keep him waiting. 

“Yeah, s-sure,” he nodded, still standing there and neither of the men minded how the other was stalling. 

“Well, thank you, Evan,” Eddie let his gaze fall on the name tag that was attached to Buck’s polo. He then lifted his head to look him in the eyes one more time and Buck didn’t miss the subtle wink he gave before turning to head back to his chair. 

“What the fuck,” Buck mouthed to himself, trying to shake the embarrassing moment from his head. He had become very confident in his bisexuality over the years, but his conversation with Eddie definitely made it seem like he didn’t know how to speak to a man properly. Usually, he was the one to have the other man become a weak-kneed, stuttering mess, now it seemed like the roles were reversed. And somehow he had made that work for him considering the wink after the stranger left. 

You had worked on your drinks and assisted customers while occasionally letting your gaze move to Eddie to see what he was doing. The two of you had been flirting throughout the week and you were sure that you were close to finally getting a date with him, hoping that he would have taken you up to his room afterwards and had his way with you.

Buck set the platter with the rest on the counter that was behind you then hurried to fetch a towel for the pretty customer. You watched him move as you served the people at the bar, wondering what had him in a hurry. He never rushed like that for anyone. Not even you, his supposed best friend. Just as Buck went to get the towel, the man he was getting it for stepped up to the bar and you felt your mouth go dry as his honey brown eyes focused on you. 

“Can I get a whiskey on the rocks?” He asked, bringing the end of one of the arms of his sunglasses between his lips. An action like that shouldn’t have been so hot, but it was because he was doing it. And he knew exactly what he was doing too. He knew the effect he had on people and was willing to use it to his advantage. A little flirting never hurt anyone.

“Of course!” You nodded and you could feel his eyes on you as you prepared his drink. Eddie had seen you every single day of his stay at the hotel and it was bothering him that he didn’t know your name. There was something about you that was intriguing to him, but he wasn’t sure what. 

“Here you are,” you handed him his drink and watched him put a very generous tip into your jar. 

“Thank you,” he winked as he took a sip from his drink and just when you thought he was going to leave, he took a seat on the only empty stool. “Y/n.” When he said your name, it filled your stomach with butterflies. The way it rolled off his tongue made it sound so poetic and you wanted to hear it over and over, knowing that you would never get tired of it.

“Anything for my best customer,” you winked and Eddie didn’t care if that was a line, he was eating it up.

“Here’s your towel, sir.” Buck held the towel out to him and Eddie took it, not missing how their fingers brushed as he did so. 

“Thanks, Evan,” Eddie put on his megawatt smile and Buck swore that his legs were going to give out just from seeing it. Someone being that attractive wasn’t even fair. 

“S-sure. Is there anything else I can get you?” Buck was always trying to go above and beyond at his job, but especially when it came to a crush. A few years ago, he would have pushed down his attraction to Eddie, but not anymore. He had struggled with his sexuality for a long time, but you had really helped him through it. At the very beginning of your friendship, you told him that you were bisexual and hearing that was like a revelation to him. He had known he was interested in boys from a young age, but pushed it down, not wanting to give his parents yet another reason to be disappointed in him, though. 

Over time, he had gotten a little more confident using the specific label as you guided him through it. You had introduced him to one of your guy friends and after the date, he had cried in your arms, so grateful that you had convinced him to do it. For the first time in his life, he finally felt free and he felt like had you to thank for that even though you kept trying to tell him that it was all him and that you had only helped him a little. 

“I’m okay for right now, but thank you.” With that, Eddie turned back to you and Buck ran off to take care of his other customers while you did the same. Eddie couldn’t help but watch as you worked, admiring how you moved so smoothly and quickly while making conversation with the other customers as if it was second nature. 

Buck didn’t like that you were taking Eddie’s attention from him. He really thought he had it in the bag, but he clearly couldn’t compete with you and your tight shirt that showed off your cleavage.

He had never envied you before, but here he was, wanting to be you so bad that it hurt. He wanted to be the one who Eddie was flirting with, but he was beginning to think that he wasn’t interested. Maybe he was reading too much into it. Maybe he was the only one that was able to see the connection between the two of them. 

He watched Eddie lean over the counter to get even closer to you and he could feel his blood boil. This had never happened to him. He had been jealous before, just not of you. Not in that way. You were his best friend, but at that moment, he was starting to hate you. He knew exactly what Eddie saw in you, you were the greatest person he had ever met. But in that moment, you were his competition.

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” Was he asking you out? There was no way you were passing that up even though you had a shift. Maybe you could have gotten someone to cover it. Buck was always looking for extra hours.

“I don’t, why?” You served Eddie yet another glass of whiskey. “You gonna take me out?” You asked, leaning on the bar, a flirty look making its way upon your face. 

“Depends, is that something you’d be interested in?” How could you not be when he was talking to you like that? He was hot and flirting with you to no end so you felt like the obvious choice was to say yes.

“Very interested,” you replied, grabbing a pen from beside your register and grabbing a slip of receipt paper before scribbling down your number. You then turned to assist the customer that had just walked up to the bar. Since you were occupied, Eddie took his drink and headed back to his chair and you watched him dreamily before turning back to your duties that had been completed before you left and Sophie, the other bartender, took over. 

Buck quickly approached you while he set another tray behind the bar and you turned around, almost bumping into him. He looked angry and you wondered if a guest had been rude to him. That wasn’t uncommon since a lot of people would complain about silly things because they felt entitled. 

“Who’s bothering you now, Ev?”

“You!” he pointed in your direction and you turned around to make sure that he wasn’t talking to someone else. But why would he have been talking about you? You hadn’t done anything wrong. At least, you didn’t think so. 

“Me?” You pointed a finger at yourself. “What did I do?”

“You know exactly what you did,” he glared, stepping towards you. “You were flirting with Eddie and throwing it in my face.” You had no idea what the fuck he was talking about. Yes, you were definitely flirting with Eddie, but you weren’t trying to throw it in Buck's face. In fact, you had no fucking clue he even liked Eddie in the first place.

“Now you’re just making things up, Buck,” you laughed, giving his shoulder a pat as you stepped out from behind the bar after you had clocked out and Buck followed you. “Eddie was doing most of the flirting so if you want to be mad, be mad at him.”

“This isn’t over.” That made you stop in your tracks. You didn’t think he was being serious until then. You never thought you’d see him that angry, especially not over something as silly as a little crush. Buck didn’t crush on many people, but when he did, it was fast and hard, allconsuming to the point where it took up every single part of his brain.

“What’s not?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Why don’t we have a competition to win his affection?” That made you laugh. Imagining doing something like that, and with Buck, made you chuckle. 

“That’s really good,” You nodded, then turned back around to head to the parking lot where your car was. “For a second, I thought you were serious.” You paused when you saw the look on his face. “Buck, be for real.”

“I am,” Buck’s eyes bored into yours and you resisted the urge to laugh again. But then again, it could have been fun. Not to toot your own horn, but you thought you were a far better flirt than Buck and could have easily had the competition in the bag.

“You’re on, Buckley. And I guess I’m already ahead because I have a date with him tomorrow.”

“Y/n, what-”

"Sorry, Ev, I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a hot outfit to pick out for Eddie,” You winked then made a beeline for your car and Buck watched you, anger bubbling up inside him. Oh, it was so on.

-

You and Eddie had texted all night about your plans and the two of you decided to meet at the hotel pool the next morning. You showed up in your hottest bikini and Eddie couldn’t keep his eyes off of you when you showed up at his chair. The sun was shining down on you and for a second, he could have sworn that he had died and gone to heaven. 

He was wearing the tightest fucking swim trunks you had ever seen and they were short too, barely covering his ass and you had to stop yourself from imagining what he looked like underneath them. He sat up and moved his legs so you could sit on the edge of his lounge chair and you set your pool bag on the ground, purposely bending over when you grabbed your sunscreen to give him a view of your ass, your cheeks practically spilling out of your bottoms. 

You turned to look at him and had him right where you wanted him as you had caught him staring exactly where you wanted him to look. He had even pulled his sunglasses down so he could see it without the dark filter over his eyes. You sat down on the edge of the chair with your sunscreen and squeezed some of the stuff into your hands before extending one of your legs and applying it there. How was it that you made something so innocent look so fucking dirty? Eddie didn’t think it was very fair. 

You continued to apply the sunscreen to all of the places you could reach then turned your back to Eddie, passing the bottle to him. 

“Can you get my back?” You asked and Eddie was trying to not look so eager to say yes. 

“Sure,” he nodded even though you couldn’t see him and squeezed some of the stuff into his hand before rubbing it and you closed your eyes as his rough hands moved along your back. They were slow, as if he was doing it on purpose, and maybe he was, finding any excuse to touch you. 

Buck happened to be passing by the two of you as Eddie was finishing up and he stopped right in front of you, but you couldn’t see him since you had your eyes closed, partially because of the sun, and partially because of how good it felt to have Eddie’s hands on you. 

“Can I get you anything?” He asked and you rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what he was doing. You looked up at him and he had a smirk on his face that to anyone, would look normal, but to you, it was filled with mischief. But he wasn’t going to get to you, not this time. 

“And may I just say, Eddie, your hair looks really nice today. Did you do something different?” 

“I did, actually. I didn’t put gel in it. And can I get a whiskey on the rocks?” Eddie asked, turning his attention to Buck, his hands moving up to your shoulders, giving them a squeeze. 

“Of course, and it looks really nice. Much better than the gel,” Buck nodded. “And for you?” He turned his direction towards you and you could see that he was not happy to ask that question. 

“I’ll have an espresso martini.” 

“I’ll have those right out for you,” Buck replied before hurrying off to get your drinks. God, how fucking horrible was his luck that his best friend was on a date with his crush and that said crush seemed to be more into you. Clearly he had to have been to have asked you on a date instead of Buck. 

Buck eyed you and Eddie the whole time, muttering to himself as he waited for your drinks. Once he had them on his tray, he plastered on a smile and headed back over to the two of you just in time to see Eddie press a kiss to your cheek. 

“Here are your drinks,” Buck announced as he held out the tray for the two of you to take the beverages from them. “Enjoy,” he nodded with a wink at Eddie but Eddie stopped him before he could get away. 

“Wait,” Eddie grabbed onto Buck’s wrist and the man turned to look at him. “Look,” he said and the two of you gave him his attention. “I can see that you’re both interested with all of our flirting over the past week and the tension and I don’t want this to be a competition.” He reached into the pocket of his swim trunks and pulled out his keycard before holding it out to the both of you. 

“If you’re up for it, I think that the three of us could have a lot of fun. I’ll be waiting upstairs and if you don’t come, I understand. But I’d really like you to.” 

With that, he fled the pool and headed back up to his room, leaving you and Buck to make a decision. You turned to him and eyed the card in your hand, the words that just left Eddie’s mouth absolutely not being on your bingo card. 

You had never been proposed with a threesome, but the thought of it sounded hot. And you’d be with Buck, someone you trusted with your life, so if something went wrong, at least he’d be there too. You were honestly into the idea the more you thought about it. 

“What do you think?” You asked him and he looked deep in thought. Buck had never had a threesome either, so he wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. But it sounded enticing, the thought of getting with two people at once was definitely something he was into. 

“Fuck it,” he shrugged. “I’m down if you are.” 

“It won’t be weird?” You and Buck had slept together a few times, but that was just with each other. Adding another person will definitely be different, but you were willing to try and apparently, so was Buck. 

“I don’t think so. Do you think it will be?”

“Maybe not. Let’s go,” you held out your hand and he took it before helping you up from the lounge chair, and lucky for him, it was just in time for him to clock out.  

-

Your heart thudded in your chest as you and Buck stood in the elevator. You were about to be on Eddie’s floor and you couldn’t believe that you were about to have a threesome with your best friend and the hot stranger that you were just on a date with. There must have been something you had done in a past life to have been so lucky as to have been wanted by two of the hottest men you had ever seen.

Buck pulled you to Eddie’s room and he gingerly unlocked the door with the key he had been given. He pushed the door open and there Eddie was, sitting in the chair that was by the window, a pleased smile on his face. 

“I was beginning to think that you weren’t going to come.” Buck almost wanted to tell him that he was very close to actually doing so. He could feel his cock tightening in his jeans as the sight of Eddie in his very tight,very short swim trunks. Eddie’s eyes moved from Buck to you and he grabbed you by the back of the neck, pressing his lips to yours in a hot, rough kiss, taking no time to stick his tongue in your mouth. 

Buck wasn’t even feeling jealous anymore, because watching his best friend making out with his crush was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. His cock was full-on tenting in his pants and he didn’t even mind just standing there and watching. He moaned as he stuck his hand down his pants, desperate to take care of himself when Eddie pulled his hand away. 

“Let me,” he said and went to unbutton Buck’s pants, looking up at him for approval. Buck nodded furiously and Eddie pressed a rough kiss to his lips before pulling down his pants and boxers, his very hard, very leaky cock. Eddie spit into his hand and grabbed hold of the base, giving it a few slow pumps to get him started then began to move faster, Buck moaning loudly as the sensation. 

You watched the two of them and felt a puddle forming in your swimsuit as you watched them, suddenly feeling the urge to clean Buck up, not wanting all of that cum to go to waste. You felt drool pooling in your mouth as you thought about having it in your mouth, sucking him off as he let out screams of euphoria. 

“Yeah, you like that?” Eddie asks. “You look so hot when you cum.” His voice was so rough and sexy that Buck swore he was going to cum right there. And he did, letting out his loudest moan as he reached his climax, throwing his head back as he did so. 

Eddie pulled away and Buck swore he was going to come undone as Eddie licked the cum from his hand, getting every last drop. As he did so, you got onto your knees in front of him with every intention of licking him clean, desperate to have him in your mouth. 

“Can I clean you up?” You asked, batting your eyelashes and Buck nodded furiously. 

“Fuck yes,” he moaned and without hesitation, you wrapped your hand around the base and took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip as he grabbed fistfuls of your hair, giving it a yank as you gave him a hard suck. 

“Oh my god,” he moaned. “So good, you have no idea.” Sure, Buck had thought about what it would have been like to have you suck him off every once in a while, but if he had known that it would have been that good, he would have asked you to do it a long time ago.

You moved your tongue to wherever you could get it then eventually removed your hand and forced him further into your mouth. Your eyes were watering as it hit the back of your throat. But you didn’t mind. You continued to suck, even harder this time and Buck gave your hair a yank as he threw his head back, feeling his knees buckle as you licked and sucked up every last drop of his cum. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie rasped. “Can I be next?” He was going to cum right there watching how much Buck was enjoying himself. 

“Fucking shit,” Buck moaned again. “Think I’m gonna-” Just as the words left his mouth, a wad of cum hit the back of your throat. You pulled him out of your mouth and you stood, grabbed Buck by his face, forcing him to look you in the eye as you swallowed and he fell onto the bed behind him in reaction as he tried his best to pull his underwear back up.

“Fuck,” he said in between breaths. “Think I need a break.”

You pressed a kiss to his lips, taking no time to stick your tongue inside his mouth and he moaned as it scraped against his and just as he was about to moan again, you pulled away. 

“You take a break, baby,” you told him, turning to Eddie. “It’s Eddie's turn.” He watched your eyes fill with lust as you grabbed onto him, pressing a messy kiss to his lips. You then pushed him onto the bed and he fell, landing right next to Buck who moved to sit on his knees, desperate to see the action even if he wasn’t in it.

You straddled Eddie’s waist and reached behind you, slowly untying it and letting it fall to the side of Eddie before pushing it into the floor. Both Buck and Eddie eyed your tits and you were eating up the way they were staring at them, looking like they wanted to devour you. 

“Can’t believe you hid these from us for so long,” Buck reached up and touched your hard nipple with the pad of his thumb. “From me.”

“Yeah? You wanna suck on them?” You turned to him, moved from side to side, making them move with you. 

“Please,” he begged and hearing the whine in his voice was making you even more wet than before. 

“What about me?” Eddie asked as he sat up. He had put on a pout and you couldn’t believe that he actually thought that you would leave him out. 

“I have two, don’t I?” You bat your eyelashes as you climbed off Eddie and slowly laid down with your back against the mattress. “Go on,” you urged. “You know you wanna. 

Buck was the first to dive in, pressing kisses to your collarbone before going in for a light suck. He kissed his way all the way down to your left tit, bringing your entire nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. He then gave it a rough suck and seeing the way you were coming undone, Eddie dove in for the other one. You gripped the comforter as they did their work, licking and sucking, making absolute pleasure roll through you as you moaned and moaned again. 

“Holy shit,” you whined. “How do you both do it so well?” Just when you thought you were reaching your climax, Buck brought your nipple between his teeth and gave it a little nipple, causing your back to arch as you orgasmed, a loud moan escaping your lips. 

“Do that again,” you said between breaths and Buck did as you asked and Eddie mimicked it, seeing what was being done out of the corner of his eye, causing your hands to move to the back of their heads, grabbing fistfulls of their hair and giving it a hard yank. 

“I’m coming,” you told them as your back arched once again and they pulled away, turning to each other with smirks as you laid there, your tits shining with their spit and the area around nipples turning a reddish purple. 

“We can clean you up,” Eddie said as devilish smirks made their way upon their faces. 

“Yeah,” Buck agreed. “Bet you taste heavenly.” 

The three of you were overstimulated, but that didn’t mean that either of you wanted to stop. Eddie pushed you against the bed and both Buck and Eddie took one of your ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed as they got onto their knees. Buck was the one to remove your swimsuit bottoms and once they were off, he tossed them to the side and spread your legs wide, both of them letting out dramatic whistles as they caught sight of your sopping wet cunt. 

“Why didn’t you tell us you were so soaked?” Eddie asked. 

“Yeah, we could have taken care of you much earlier,” Buck added. 

“I think this might be the wettest pussy I’ve ever seen, wouldn’t you agree, Evan?” Eddie smirked at the man to his right and Buck smirked right back. 

“Oh yeah,” Buck nodded, then they each threw a leg over one of their shoulders and shoved their faces into your cunt. Buck went for it and buried his tongue inside of you while 

Eddie suckled on your clit, both of them working as a team to bring you as much pleasure as possible. 

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you whimpered through breaths, your hands gripping the bedding again, feeling sweat collecting in your hands. 

They both lapped up your slick as Buck swirled his tongue inside of your cunt, hitting just the right spot, causing you to let out a scream. You could feel your vision go hazy as you reached your climax just as Eddie grazed your clit with his teeth, driving you absolutely wild. His tongue swiped to the right and touched Bucks just as the two of them were pulling away, having gotten just about every last drop of your delicious slick as soon they pulled out of your cunt, they turned to each other, pressing their lips together, desperate for the taste of you on each other’s tongues. 

“Fuck,” Eddie groaned. “She tastes even better on your tongue.”

Their tongues tangled together and they both moaned at the sensation. Before they could stop themselves, Eddie’s swim trunks and Buck’s underwear were discarded in a messy pile on the floor. Buck helped Eddie from the bed and grabbed a condom, rolling it onto his cock. He then bent Eddie over the end of the bed, slamming his dick into him. 

Eddie let out a loud moan as Buck grabbed onto his hips, roughly thrusting in and out of him. Eddie gripped onto the bedding so hard that his knuckles were turning white as another moan escaped his mouth. 

“Yeah? You like that? Wish I could see your face so I could watched you come undone,” Buck said and you sat up, the look on Eddie’s face, looking just as hot as you ever could have imagined. 

“He looks so fucking hot, Evan,” you told him and that made Buck thrust the fastest and hardest he could. You were quick to grab your purse and pull out your compact mirror. You opened it and quickly climbed back onto the bed, turning it around so Evan could see exactly what Eddie looked like. 

“Shit, she was right. You look so fucking hot. Taking me so well, Edmundo.” He then took hold of Eddie’s face, forcing him to look at his own reflection. “See how hot you look, babe?” He asked. 

Eddie let out another moan as he watched himself in the small mirror, not thinking much about what he looked like during sex, but now that he was seeing it, he finally understood all of the compliments he got about how he looked when he came. 

“I look hot,” Eddie replied and Buck gave his ass a slap, causing Eddie to let out a yelp. 

“Yeah, you do. Got one more in you?”

“Yes,” Eddie sighed and Buck continued to thrust the fastest and hardest he could and Eddie finally reached his orgasm, Buck not long after him. As soon as they both came down from the high, Buck pulled out and disposed of the condom. 

“Do you maybe want to take this to the shower? I really need to clean up.” You asked, biting down on your bottom and they turned to each other, nodding furiously at each other. 

“And I need to be fucked too. Seeing you two together made me jealous.” You grabbed onto each of their hands and pulled them to the bathroom. You decided the shower seemed plenty big enough for the three of you as Buck turned on the water and adjusted the temperature. 

While he did that, you pulled Eddie into a kiss, your hands moving to his waist, pulling him as close to your as possible. One hand rested at your back while the other trailed down to your cunt, his fingers moving back and forth across it, but not actually entering you. 

“Eddie, please,” you whined and he just chuckled, wanting to hear you whine for him some more.

“Gonna need for you to beg for it. C’mon, honey. You can do it,” he urged, his fingers moving even slower and it was driving you crazy not having his fingers inside of you yet. 

“Evan, need your fingers, please.” That seemed to be enough because as soon as the words left your mouth, he shoved his fingers up your cunt, causing you to come undone. 

“Need me to take care of your pussy, huh?” He asked as he pumped his fingers in and out of your still sopping wet cunt. “I can fuck you so good.”

“God, yes please.”

Eddie removed his fingers from you and pushed you into the shower, Buck following behind and closing the door. Eddie shoved you against the wall and pounded into you. He pumped in and out while Buck stood to the side, perfectly content with getting off by watching you. Eddie continued to pound into you, grabbing the backs of your thighs and lifted you off your feet. You wrapped your legs around his waist, Eddie fitting all of himself inside of you as he moved the fastest he could. 

Buck swore he was going to lose as he watched Eddie fuck into you, entirely unsure whether he wanted to be you or Eddie, but either way, he thought it was fucking hot. He watched you come completely undone and had never been so attracted to you in his entire life. Now he was wanting to be the one who made you feel absolutely euphoric as he pounded into you again and again until you could barely walk. 

“Look so fucking good wrapped around me, goddamn,” Eddie groaned as he pressed his lips to yours, the kiss sloppy and sloven. 

“And you feel so good, Eddie. I could let you do this all night.” That was just what he needed to hear to encourage him to move harder and faster, your back continuously hitting the wall as he did so. His cock hit just the right spot and you swore you could see stars as you hit another orgasm, the feeling tearing through your body as you let out a loud moan. 

Your body collapsed onto Eddie’s and he pulled out, before setting you back on your feet. His lips attached to yours again and his tongue slid into your mouth before he pulled away from you completely. 

“You want a turn, Ev?” You asked, beckoning him forward and he stepped over to you, feeling a bit hesitant. 

“You sure?” Eddie had just pulled out of you and he just wanted to make sure that it was what you wanted. 

“I can always just take care of it myself if you’d rather,” you joked, but Buck clearly didn’t get it. 

“Please do,” he nodded. “Wanna see your fingers fuck you. Don’t you Eddie?” 

“Fuck yes,” Eddie nodded enthusiastically. You moved underneath the water and slowly moved your hand down to your body slowly, heading straight for your cunt. You shoved your fingers inside you and let out a moan at the sensation. 

You pushed your fingers in and out of your pussy and both men could feel themselves getting hard as they watched you pleasure yourself. Your other hand held onto the wall for support as you threw your head back, your eyes shutting tight as your fingers hit just the right spot, making you moan. 

Your eyes opened and you looked at both men in front of you, slowly moving your fingers towards your mouth and giving them a suck and they both moaned loudly as they watched you lick the slick clean from your fingers. 

“Holy shit,” Buck whined. 

“Goddamn,” Eddie rasped. “That’s hot.” 

You pulled your fingers out of your mouth then grabbed onto Buck’s shoulder’s pressing your lips to his, pushing your tongue into his mouth before swirling it around. His hands moved down and grabbed your ass, giving it a squeeze and you gasped into his mouth. 

He then pushed you against the wall, fucking into roughly and you both moaned as he entered you. He fucked into you much rougher than Eddie but that was how you liked it. Your legs wrapped around his waist just like you did with Eddie’s and Buck pinned your arms to the wall as he inserted all of himself into you. 

“Evan, oh my god. More.” Eddie moved to the side so he could watch the two of you, his dick getting hard at the sight of Buck fucking you. 

“Look at you,” he said. “Taking him so well, baby.” 

“You really are. You like it when I fuck you like this, huh?”  He began to thrust so hard that his balls were slapping against you and you were already on the verge of cumming for the final time. 

“Fuck yes,” you moaned as you reached your climax and Buck was quick to pull out before setting you back on the floor. Your legs felt like jello and you were so blissed out that you felt like you could fall asleep right there. 

“Alright, time to get out,” he held onto you and helped you out of the shower while Eddie turned off the water before grabbing towels for all three of you. 

“We didn’t even shower,” you slurred and they both just chuckled. 

“Next time,” Eddie assured as he wrapped you up in a towel as you held onto Buck’s shoulder so you wouldn’t fall to the floor. The two of them helped you dry off then dried off themselves. 

“Next time?” You asked, confused. 

“Oh, honey,” Eddie laughed, pulling you into a kiss. He then gave one to Buck, making sure to not leave him out. “That was just a taste.” With that, he grabbed both of you by the hand and led you back out to his room to give you each something to wear before you all climbed into bed together, the three of you already looking forward your next threesome together.