#it’s actually fucking freezing outside their asses are not going outside.

[forge-octarian-jacket]

They are discussing what to do outside (It’s freezing outside) (There’s snow on the ground) (Forge is wearing shorts) (They are not going outside)

[elllisaaa]

THINK AABOUT THIS

horny bsfheeseung who can't control himself when he's with you and eventually ends up fucking you on a rainy night

i'm thinking about it yes, because imagine HORNY BSF!HEESEUNG who was only supposed to come spend the afternoon at your place and watch a film with you. it was a cold day, so you were wearing a hoodie three times too big for you, some shorts and your warmest socks. you had already set up the couch - cozy blankets prepared for you, snacks and drinks scattered all over your table. and you were just so excited about finally spending time with him that heeseung felt really guilty about the way he couldn't help feeling hot under the collar when you hugged him and dragged him to the couch, snuggling up against him because you were freezing.

you put on the film, but heeseung cannot focus on it at all. everytime he tries to look at the tv screen, his eyes are drawn back to you - to your pretty face, pretty eyes, and pretty lips that he's dying to kiss. he's not usually this bothered around you, he has self-control, but there's just something about you today and the way your scent intoxicates him more than usual that makes him hard in his sweatpants. but it's okay, heeseung thinks, he just has to go through the movie without being suspicious and then he can go home.

wrong. not even halfway through the film, rain starts pouring outside. and it doesn't seem to stop. its raining so much that when the movie ends, you decide that it's too dangerous for heeseung to take his car to go home now. "but it's okay, you sleep here." and heeseung wants to say no, because he knows that if he stays in your presence one more minute, he's going to lose control. but you're actually right, he cannot drive in this weather.

so heeseung tries to not look at your ass too much as you bend down to get him another pillow so he can sleep on your couch comfortably. and he tries to not get distracted by the way he can still see the outline of your boobs, even under your oversized sweater. it's hard - and he's very hard by now - but he really tries. he's aware you're just being sweet, he's aware that you're not feeling the same as him, he's aware that he's being pathetic, but just cannot stop himself when you bend down again in your tight shorts to pick up a pack of gummies that fell to the floor.

"fuck, y/n, can you stop doing this ?" you turn around, the bag of candies in your hands and a clueless look on your face as you plant your innocent gaze into heeseung's lustful one. "stop doing what hee ?" - "bending over like this, showing me your pretty ass. that is if you don't want me to fuck you, baby." he eats up the way your cheeks immediately grow red, mouth opening and closing without knowing what to say anymore. the smirk on his face widens as he gets closer and you don't back out, dropping back the sweets once he wraps his arms around your waist. "so, what do you say ?" his lips are brushing against yours with how close he is, but you don't mind it, you just him to kiss you now. "yes, please."

heeseung doesn't waste any more time talking before he grabs you by your neck to pull in a kiss that leaves dazed, your mind blank, breath short from how good his tongue alone makes you feel. he chuckles when you chase his lips, fists closing around the fabric of his tee. "you want more ?" - "heeseung, please, don't tease me… i've waited for this long enough." the realization that you had been wanting just as bad is what sends heeseung far away, too far away to have control over himself anymore. "shit, i'm sorry princess, i'm gonna make it up, yeah ?" you nod and the next thing you know is that heeseung has you bend over for him on the couch, your shorts and underwear pulled down just enough so that he can push his cock inside of you.

"feeling so good baby, knew you would, i knew you would be perfect for me." you only moan louder at his words, trying to keep a bit of sanity as heeseung pounds into you like an animal. but in the end you don't mind the way his hand presses against your lower back, under your hoodie that he didn't take the time to throw away, forcing your back to arch even more, his cock hitting even deeper into you. "hee ! i'm close, i'm close please…" - "gonna make you cum all over my dick and then fill you up. everybody's gonna know you're mine this way."

and you don't deny, because in the end that's what you want. as you come down from your high, slowly opening your eyes that fall on the raindrops hitting your windows, you wonder if he really means it. "shit… you're still so tight baby, makes me want to fuck you again." you only whine at his words, letting him grab your hair and yank your head back. and you don't dare ask him what's gonna happen after, you just want to enjoy the way he's making you feel a little longer.

[machveil]

CoD Headcanon: Fashion

let me info dump on how I think the CoD men would dress, pretty puh-lease? Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, Simon “Ghost” Riley, John “Soap” MacTavish, John Price, Gary “Roach” Sanderson, Keegan Russ, and König

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick:

actually wanted to make this post because of him, “Thank you, Kyle.”, we all say in unison

I oh so desperately think he dresses so casually it looks clean as fuck. he’s definitely the best dressed out of the 141, in my opinion. going for groceries? meeting up at a pub? Kyle looks great! also, bottom left photo? holding true to the board, I firmly believe Kyle has totes - different colors, some with logos, a couple well used and loved. totes and caps, Kyle has a nice collection

my fun little headcanon is that Kyle will match his outfits to whatever hat or tote he plans on using for the day. and he has a wardrobe to match - t-shirts, button ups, jumpers, turtlenecks, Kyle has variety. a lot of them are gifts from his family (who have his fashion sense down to a science). his aunts and uncles definitely pay the most attention to what Kyle’s wearing whenever they see him, they never miss when buying him new jeans or shoes

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

as fearsome and intimidating as Ghost is, draped in military gear and holsters, Simon prefers to be comfortable. a majority of his civvies are for his comfort, soft and warm jumpers that bag a little. he keeps it simple, his signature black clothes are really the only thing that carries over from service. that said, I think he’d look good in brown too. still a noticeably darker color compared to most, but it gives a nice contrast to his usual monotone look

it might seem counterintuitive to wear long sleeves when he’s had all this tattoo work done on his arms - fair enough - but I don’t think Simon necessarily cares to show them off. he has his fair share of t-shirts, but he really only wears them when it’s exceptionally warm out. that, or Simon has them on as an undershirt at the gym, hidden beneath his black hoodies. does the 141 poke fun at him for dressing nearly all black every time they see him? yes they do, does Simon care? no, he’s a sucker for a dark aesthetic

John “Soap” MacTavish:

Johnny dresses like he’s ready to go to the gym, but it’s why we love him. I swear, it could be freezing outside and Johnny would be wearing short, he’s definitely one of those people, “Hm? Nah, m’not cold.”, he’s actively trying to not let his teeth chatter. Johnny loves a good hoodie, especially if they have drawstrings - this man has an oral fixation, let him chew on those strings, damnit! oftentimes the drawstrings on his hoodies are fucked up and thready because he’ll absentmindedly nosh on them

I’m not afraid to say he’s the closest on this whole headcanon post to dressing like Adam Sandler - there’s definitely been times he wore the rattiest clothes ever outside and people mistook him for being homeless. the nicest thing he’ll consider wearing out is a t-shirt, zip-up hoodie, and jeans. I think Johnny’s a little nose blind to his own scent, sometimes he’ll think a hoodie is clean but he forgot he sweated his ass off in it two days ago at the gym. puts it on because… well, it just smells like him, surely it doesn’t reek

John Price:

I had such a hard time finding photos that matched my thoughts, but when I found them? oh, these matched. I’d like to call Price’s look “blue collar husband comes home after work” - do we get that vibe? simple man, he likes his blue jeans and a plain shirt. has a wide variety of nice, leather belts though, the only bit of his wardrobe he really splurges on. the simplest out of the 141, but he cleans up nicely with just a shirt and some jeans that hug his thighs just right

he’s a fan of t-shirts, the fact they show off his biceps is purely coincidence. he low-key dresses like a dad, but he rocks the look. he’s definitely the type to have vintage leather jackets, beat up, brown coats that are durable. they’ve seen better days, were new and shiny once, but John likes them a little weathered and worn. he’s not beating the bucket hat allegations

Gary “Roach” Sanderson:

I’d love to say ‘I don’t make the rules’, but I do. I’m putting my foot down and saying Gary dresses like this. he always wears a white t-shirt, is it the same one? does he have dozens? who knows! he’ll causally swap between pants and shorts, whichever is appropriate for the weather. button ups, he owns so many. never buttons them, just wears them open over his t-shirts. it’s casual, but the simplicity of it unironically makes his outfit look super clean

Gary will dress this way until the day he dies. it’s just how he dresses, no variation unless there’s an important event - holidays, an army shindig, I dunno, a wedding (if he could, he’d show up in his usual civvies). you would have to beg Gary to try a different style, he’s silently stubborn about it. he doesn’t make a fuss if you buy him a hoodie or sweater, just know he’ll throw a quiet strike by tucking it into the back of his closet

Keegan Russ:

biblically accurate Keegan Russ is a biker, what can I say. two words: leather jackets. he likes the aesthetic, owns a handful - hand-me-downs, thrifted, vintage, new. a majority of his wardrobe is black, I personally think his favorite color is blue, but he enjoys wearing black more. he likes wearing t-shirts, purposefully showing off his well-trained arms. he really only owns jeans, maybe a pair of nice slacks

you know what? gonna be honest, not much to add on, I just think Keegan is hot and would wear this haha. it’s nothing flashy, but if you’re into bikers it’s definitely eye catching. on another note, I think he’d paint his nails matte black. do I have any reasoning? no, I just think he would, or maybe just a clear coat. that, and he definitely wears silver rings. not all the time, but he does wear them on occasion

König:

if König isn’t in fatigues he still looks blatantly military. now, I didn’t include it in the board, but he has way too many pairs of khaki cargo pants. like an absurd amount - imagine a reasonable number of cargo pants and then add ten more pairs. back to the board, man cannot escape camouflage and green in general. whether it’s pants, shirts, or sweaters, König has it in some shade of green

otherwise, he actually enjoys itchy, scratchy sweaters. you know the kind that makes your skin red after wearing it a little too long? König eats that up, for whatever reason it feels nice to him. course, he does have standard, comfortable sweaters and hoodies. it’s a bit of a hassle to find clothes in his size though, sure they make them big, but König would appreciate if they were more fit to his build than overly baggy. lucky for him, his mama was a seamstress and taught him how to sew - he adjusts his clothing as he sees fit (he’ll still grumble about it though)

manifesting just one CoD man into being so I can play dress up with them🎀✨pretty please, I just wanna make him look so good - Soap and Roach might put up a fight though…

thanks for reading my behemoth of a post<3 hugs and kiss🌸✨

[tofics]

Comfort Has A Name

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Summary: For you, comfort has a name: Joel Miller.

Word count: ~1.1k words

Tags/Warnings: fluff, freezing your ass off, soft!Joel, jokes about saggy balls in hot weather

A/N: Look at that, I actually wrote something. I'm literally drowning in uni work atm so I have no idea when I'll get back to my other fics, but I'm too overwhelmed with my task list tonight so naturally I had to procrastinate and think about a comforting Joel situation. This is literally no more than a drabble, but maybe it can provide some comfort for you too 🥲

Tough and gruff as he may be, Joel Miller is still your comfort person.

Occasionally, people will ask you how the hell you deal with him on a daily basis, and you never know what to reply. Where do you get the patience?

You're not a saint, by no means. Your patience does not exceed the normal amount, but you've never found Joel testing it.

It's more the opposite, really.

Where other people complain that he grinds their gears, you think of him as the drop of oil that smoothes out the kink in your own system.

Like that day him and you got surprised by a thunderstorm and had to take shelter in an abandoned building. Nothing about the complex provided a sense of comfort; bare and crumbling walls, dust and rubble-coated floors, and more broken windows than intact ones to show for. It was a miserable night. You were freezing, drenched from the downpour the two of you had gotten caught in, and the wind wasn't helping either, howling through the cracks and holes in the ceiling and walls like a wailing ghost.

Joel and you had taken cover in one corner of the building. In the dim twilight of the early night, your two cowering figures could've easily passed as two more large pieces of rubble to the untrained eye. Your soaked clothes lay strewn around, hastily discarded and exchanged for dry clothes from your backpacks in an attempt to not lose more body heat than necessary. (Joel hadn't looked, of course, and neither had you. Both of you had turned their backs to each other as you'd quickly stripped off your clothes, as quickly as the soaked garments would allow.) Still, your teeth were chattering relentlessly, adding a rhythmic element to the white noise provided by the downpour outside.

You reached for your backpack to retrieve your sleeping bag, hoping to wrap it around you like a blanket for extra warmth, but you noticed the mishap as soon as your fingers found the side compartment of your bag. The flap hung loose, and your sleeping bag underneath it was drenched.

"Fuck." You muttered under your breath.

The flap must've had come loose sometime during your sprint through the rain, which left your sleeping bag drenched and you without a plan to warm up. With a sigh, you pulled the bunched up material from its tiny compartment and rolled it out over the floor next to your drenched clothes. You were doubtful any of it was going to be dry by morning, but the chances were still higher than if you kept it all bunched up in your backpack.

You'd slept on solid ground enough to know how cold and unwelcoming any stone surface could be, but that night, you truly understood whoever had coined the term 'stone cold'. The hard concrete against your back was drawing out more heat from your limbs than you could conjure, despite your best efforts. You had curled yourself into a ball, knees tucked tightly against your arms which were crossed over your chest. Your hands, formed into tight fists, were buried in your armpits, but it wasn't helping. Frost was settling in your every limb, slowly working its way from the tips of your extremities all the way to the core of your bones.

That's what you got for getting caught in the rain in early November.

"Hey." Joel's voice grumbled next to you, barely distinguishable over the rain splattering outside. You shifted your head and squinted at him through the dark.

He too was curled up into a human ball, but he'd extended an arm to you as if inviting you for a side-hug.

"C'mon," he said and beckoned you over with a flick of his hand.

You didn't need to be told twice. With your backpack in tow, you scooted over to him, dragging both your belongings and your butt over the dusty ice-cold floor.

"Whoa." You breathed out in surprise as you tucked yourself against Joel's side. His arm came down around you instantly, locking you in place and holding you closer to him than you might've allowed yourself. Heat radiated from his center like he secretly harbored a little white dwarf in his abdomen.

Before you could even think about what you were doing, you pushed yourself into Joel's side as much as physically possible. Your arms snaked around his waist and just barely touched on the other side, while your head came to rest below his chin on his chest, your legs all jumbled up into a big knot drawn as close to yourself as possible. It wasn't really a comfortable position, and yet it was as comfortable as you were ever gonna get.

"Are you an oven or something? How the hell are you so hot?"

Joel snorted. You could feel the low rumble of laughter vibrate in his chest that followed. "Guess that's genetics for 'ya," he retorted, and you only then realized the ambiguity of both your remarks. A lazy smile formed on your lips and you softly boxed his rib cage.

"Not what I meant," you said with half a laugh and quickly wrapped your arm back around his torso. His warmth was too delicious to give up for even a second. Already you felt ten times warmer than you'd had on your own, and that was just from a few seconds of being wrapped around Joel's middle like a jacket you had been reluctant to bring and now regretted.

"I know, sweetheart," he replied and you could hear the smile in his words. "Always been warm-blooded. S' a blessing in winter and a curse in summer. Always sweatin' my damn balls off from May to September."

"Hmm." You feigned a sound of delight. "Tell me more."

His chest vibrated once more as another round of laughter rumbled through him. This time, it was him who faintly smacked your head at your jest. "I'm serious. Ain't no fun having your balls basically stick to your knees all damn summer."

Your eyelids fluttered close as you rolled your eyes. What a charming picture he was conjuring up in your brain.

"You know, when I said tell me more? I really didn't mean that." You shook your head at the picture of a sweaty ballsack stretched out all the way to the knees. "Christ."

Joel chuckled under you. "You said I'm hot as a' oven. I didn't start this."

Mobile Masterlist

Feedback is always appreciated! If you have any requests, feel free to send them my way. I'm always happy to practice my writing! :)

[thediaryofaurora]

𖧐Kinktober - Day 3𖧐

Theme: Car sex / stranded

Pairing: Ticci Toby x colleague!reader

CW: NSFW, dry humping, f!reader, riding

Word count: 1.0k

Side note: Sorry this is late, I’ve been caught up in doctor appointments, but good news is I’m off my crutches 🧚 Also I didn’t prepare for Kinktober what so ever, burnout is going CRAZY. I’m gonna spend the weekend preparing more, but day 4 might be a little late also 💔

❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎

“I-I already tried, damn en-engine won’t start.” Toby huffs, putting his hands in his pockets while he leans against the trunk.

“Then what the hell are we supposed to do??”

It’s the middle of winter for fuck’s sake, walking nearly 90 miles back to the mansion would take days, probably even get you both killed in the process. You already notified Tim, but even in a car it’ll take over an hour.

“W-we might as well get back in the car. I-it’s better than standing o-out here with the wind.”

“I guess.” You grumble, opening the driver’s side door and slipping in, Toby following suit.

Being shielded from the wind and light snow is definitely better than waiting outside and getting frostbite, but the temperature in the car had still dropped once the heat was turned off.

“It’s too fucking cold for this, are you sure we didn’t pack any matches?”

“No l-lighter either.”

Sighing, you put the keys back in the ignition, hoping for any chance of it turning on.

Vrrrrr, pufk

“Piece of shit.”

You two had already been out in the cold for half an hour, having to walk back from your mission, and looking down at your hands turning a faint purple makes the situation even more urgent.

“Get in the back.” You gruff, climbing over the center console and into the backseat. Toby doesn’t hesitate to follow, if you have an idea to keep you both from freezing to death he’s open to it.

“A-are we huddling?”

He chuckles, resting against the door while you crawl on top of him. No wonder he’s not as worried about the whole ordeal as you, he’s barely cold. You nestle up against him, draping your arm around his chest with a sigh. Even though you both had known each other for a while, he’s obviously nervous, the way his rapid heart beat is thumping in your ear while you rest your head on his chest making that clear.

Trying to take in any warmth you can get, you drape your leg over his hips, then you feel it: the reason he’s so nervy.

Maybe you can help him out, it doesn’t have to mean anything. Gently you grind down on him, enough for him to not know if you actually are or if he just wishes you were. Slowly but surely you begin to add more weight, and more, and more. After a few minutes it’s noticeable the way you’re perfectly rubbing your clothed cunt against his restrained boner.

His breath starts picking up, his wood only getting harder as you make it obvious what you’re doing. Your head is still rested on his chest, his heart thumping even louder than before.

You had been doing it for a few minutes now, keeping a steady pace of dry humping this poor, desperate boy. A small whimper escaping his lips as he begins bucking his hips up into yours, moving his hands down to your ass and pulling you closer onto him, his fully hard cock now rubbing perfectly against your swollen bud.

Now you’re both grinding into each other, the friction too much to handle. You need him.

Quickly you pull off of him, letting a whine. Your knees are on either side of his hips, hastily undoing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. All he can do is look at you in awe, his eyes big and greedy as he watches you slip his pants down. His dick springs out, the tip already red and shining with precum. You slide off your bottoms, revealing your puffy, wet pussy. His length twitches as you position your hole above his needy cock.

Slowly you begin lower yourself onto him, his tip barely brushing your hole while it pulsates on his most sensitive part.

Toby has always been a beat it and get it over with kind of guy, not bothering to even use lotion while watching porn; so now, you slowly sliding down his girth makes it difficult not to cum immediately.

Your hole clenches around him while you take your time adjusting, his throbbing cock making you want to slam down on it. He stretches you good, but the pain can’t compare to the pure nirvana of him being inside you.

It’s half way in, just almost hitting your cervix. His heavy breaths have turned into pants, sweet little whines in between while you slide down.

“H-mghn… Y-y-y/n- please-“ His voice is a pure whine as he begs for more, his attempts to buck up into you stopped by your hands pushing his hips down to the seat.

The tip finally hit your sweet spot, your hips rolling against his as you adjust to the girth. You start picking up your pace, shamelessly riding him as you feel your high coming to a breaking point. It’s obvious his is too, his mouth agape while he pants and whimpers incoherent pleads.

Your climax comes crashing down over you, riding out your high on his twitching dick, your once freezing face now dripping with sweat. Toby came right after, his cum spilling out of you as you pulled off of him.

The car’s windows were completely unusable, the condensation too thick to see through. Small droplets of water formed and raced down, your body heats immediately filling the streak.

Toby’s dazed panting below you, eyes fluttering open and shut with every breath, his shaky hands still holding onto your hips as you lay back down with him.

A loud knock on the window startled the two of you, Tim’s voice breaking the silence.

“You better be clothed when you come out of there.”

Together you both gather your clothes and redress, stepping out of the humid vehicle into the baby blizzard. Tim’s car is pulled over to the side of the road in the distance, his headlights flashing.

You and Toby stumble behind him, your legs weak and unstable. At least you stayed warm.

❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎

Kinktober Masterlist

Creepypasta Masterlist

[darlingdaisyfarm]

one night, two Pines ⋆˚࿔

tags: nsfw, Stan x fem!reader x Ford, threesome, praise kink, dirty talk, reader deserves a medal for this, rough sex, oral sex, p in v, fingering, pet names

tagging: @cailleachcola <33

a/n: i cant help it i love making Ford jealous even tho he wouldn’t show it so obvious like Stan for example ?? it’s my headcanon idk

for those who wanted second part and love jealous!Ford - click here

The Mystery Shack groans under the weight of another snowfall.

You glance toward the window, its edges crusted with frost, the outside world disappearing into an eerie haze of blue-gray dusk. Shadows stretch long and lazy across the wooden floor, falling on cluttered bookshelves lined with things Ford insists are cursed, but Stan swears they’re just old junk.

The coldness settles into your bones, making your fingertips ache and even the thickest socks don’t seem to help. The mystery Shack is equipped for this kind of weather. . . well, supposedly, but Stan always mutters about “old buildings” and “better insulation next year”. You’d laugh if your teeth weren’t busy chattering.

It got all got worse when the lights blinked once, then died completely. And now you're sitting in the darkness.

“Goddammit!” Stan’s voice barks through the room and it makes you jump from how loud it is. You barely make out his silhouette in the darkness.

Ford is pacing, muttering about fuses and the electrical grid. Stan, meanwhile, is busy cursing up a storm, flashlight gripped tight as he rifles through an ancient toolkit he probably hasn’t touched since 80s.

“Perfect fucking timing,” Stan growls, tossing a wrench over his shoulder. It clatters against the floor. “lights go out the one time we actually need ‘em. Figures.”

Ford, ever the optimist or maybe just too stubborn to agree with his brother, snaps back, “Well, if someone hadn’t overloaded the system with those ridiculous inflatable decorations outside—”

“You wanna run that by me again, sixer?” Stan turns, pointing flashlight to land directly on Ford’s chest. “i’ll have you know those ‘ridiculous decorations’ are what keep this place lookin’ festive, unlike your dusty ass journals stacked all over the damn place.”

You sit back, pulling old, oversized sweater tighter around yourself as you smile. They’re always like this. You can’t help it, the giggle slips out before you can stop yourself. Both of them turn to you.

“What’s so funny, kid?” Stan asks you.

“You two,” you reply, wiping the mirth from your lips with the back of your hand. “you argue like you’re in some bad sitcom.”

But it’s still dark, so dark you can barely make out their faces anymore, just shadows moving around the room and your fingers are already numb because it’s freezing, the temperature drops fast without the heater running. You exhale through your nose and hug yourself tighter, but it’s not helping much, honestly. The cold feels sharper, biting through your sweater and you decide you’ve had enough of waiting for them to figure it out.

“Okay,” you say, pushing up from the couch and ignoring the way their heads both snap toward you again, twin pairs of eyes watching your movements. “i’m getting candles.”

“Candles?” Stan repeats, sounding so bewildered.

“Yep, candles. You know, those things that make light and heat?”

Ford hums softly and smiles at your suggestion. “That’s actually a good idea,” he says and you think you hear Stan mumbling something like “of course he’d say that”, but you’re already moving toward the kitchen.

The candles are old, probably from some forgotten stash Mabel left behind last Christmas, but they’re pretty, short and fat with uneven edges, dusted with glitter and wrapped in little bows. And you carry them back to the living room with an armful of mismatched holders. You light them one by one and they glow softly, beautifully, their tiny flames flickering against the walls and filling the room with the faint scent of cinnamon, as room turns warm and so, so comforting. However, while you’re busy lighting the candles, you again hear two men arguing.

“I'm just saying,” Stanley huffs. “if you’re so damn smart, you could’ve fixed it yourself.”

Stanford pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing “And if you’d actually listen—”

“So, if you two are done arguing. . .” your voice interrupts their squabble. “maybe we should focus on keeping warm instead of trying to win whatever petty contest this is?”

Ford looks sheepish, running a hand through his hair, giving you an awkward smile while Stan grumbles “not petty, just proving a point”.

“But yeah, okay,” Stan waves a hand, brushing off your concern. “got plenty of blankets upstairs, i’ll grab a few.”

“And what, huddle together like we’re on some survival show?” Ford quirks a brow sceptically.

Stan’s reply is immediate. “Unless you’ve got a better idea, genius.”

Ford pauses, he doesn’t seem to have an answer. His gaze falls on you instead as he takes in your curled-up figure in the candlelight.

“Blankets it is, then,” he murmurs finally and Stan smirks a victorious “damn right.”

A few moments later, you’re all sitting closer than you probably should with the scratchy warmth of mismatched blankets draped across the three of you. Stan takes up the space of two people, leaning back with a wide grin, absolutely proud of himself and the way things goes now. Ford is stiff beside you, trying his best not to make contact to not make you uncomfortable, but the limited space forces his arm against yours.

It’s awkward, kind of, the silence. The proximity because you’re hyper-aware of every breath, every move, every accidental brush of skin. The candlelight dances across their faces, painting them in shades of gold and orange and you catch Stan watching you out of the corner of his eye, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Cozy enough for ya, sweetheart?”

Ford clears his throat, visibly bristling at the nickname. “I think she’d be cosier if someone didn’t take up half the blanket, Stanley.”

“Oh, cry me a river. Besides, she looks plenty warm to me. Ain’t that right, doll?”

And damn it, you do feel warm now, but not because of the blankets or the candles.

You sigh and swallow nervously, nodding and preparing for any outcome of the situation, but still, you move slightly, leaning into Ford just to see what happens, just to fucking see. At that, his breath hitches as his eyes widen, Stan catches it immediately.

“Huh,” Stan drawls, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “looks like sixer’s finally found his voice.”

Damn, it’s insane how quickly the room heats, despite the little useless candles you brought. Ford, for all his intelligence, looks at you, frozen in place, every muscle taut as though he’s weighing a hundred different outcomes. Meanwhile you feel the other twin already leaning in, closer and closer because damn, he’s been waiting for this moment for far too long.

“You cold, sweetheart?” Stan’s eyes dart briefly to where Ford’s arm presses against yours. “or maybe you just need a little. . . extra heat?”

Ford tenses beside you. “Stanley,” he fights the urge not to roll his eyes.

“Oh, c’mon, poindexter, you’re tellin’ me you haven’t thought about it? Not once? She’s sittin’ right here, for fuck’s sake.”

You bite your lip nervously, caught between them, their weight, their heat, the very presence of them pressing into you from both sides. Your body betrays you, leaning into Ford’s shoulder again, just to test the waters or maybe because you’re tired of pretending that you don’t notice the way his eyes darken when they meet yours.

Ford’s hand brushes yours, hesitant. Too careful. His fingers curl slightly, catching yours in a loose hold and you already think he’s going to pull away again, but no. His grip tightens and little smile appears on your cold lips.

“It’s, uh, it’s—” Ford begins, stuttering, but the words die on his tongue when your free hand reaches up to touch his face, grazing the edge of his jaw with your thumb. Oh, he’s warmer than you expected, softer, too and then he leans into your touch, what tells you everything you need to know about how much he’s been holding back.

“Don’t be a coward, sixer.”

Ford’s head immediately snaps toward his brother, shouting him a glare, but then your fingers trail lower, brushing along the collar of his sweater and he stops, softens. You don’t miss the way his chest rises and falls too.

You tilt your head, asking quietly in soft voice. “What are you so afraid of, Ford?”

It’s Stan who answers, leaning in close enough that you feel his breath on your neck. “He’s afraid you’ll like me better,” his hand finds your thigh beneath the blanket, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp softly right into Ford’s face. “ain’t that right, genius?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then prove it,” Stanley’s hand slides higher as he touches the bare skin beneath your clothes and you shiver, definitely not from the cold this time. Meanwhile Ford’s grip on your hand tightens as he watches Stan’s movements.

“She’s yours too, isn’t she? Or are you just gonna let me—”

Whatever Stan’s about to say dies in his throat because Ford moves faster than you’ve ever seen, his free hand grabbing Stan’s wrist and pulling it away from your thigh.

“Enough,” Ford commands, his hand slides to your cheek, tilting your face toward his and surprisingly for three of you, his lips are on yours. But you don’t even get time to enjoy the kiss.

“So she tastes as good as you imagined, Ford?”

Ford pulls back to glare at his brother, but his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, dragging it down slightly and when good answer appears in his smart head, he smiles.

“Better,” his eyes stay locked on yours, searching, needing.

Stan watches this for a moment, his grin softening, turning less cocky, since when his brother got so romantic? “Well, great,” he leans back in, his hand returning to your thigh, caressing your skin. Ford finally pulls away, unable to take his eyes off your pretty lips now. Before you can say something, you feel Stan's mouth on your neck, so warm as he nibbles on your skin while Ford’s hands slide lower, pulling you closer.

And you’re not cold anymore. Not even a little.

Your breath tangles in your throat when Stan squeezes your thigh while Ford kisses you again. It’s everything you thought it’d be and nothing you could’ve prepared for, a tension that’s been threading through the air for weeks, months and now it’s finally snapping. You think you might drown in the intensity of it, feeling Stan’s hand dragging higher, his fingers teasing the edge of your panties as his teeth graze the shell of your ear.

“You’ve been playin’ coy for weeks, sweetheart,” you hear Stan muttering behind you, his other arm loops around your middle, pulling you back against the solid weight of him and your head falls against his chest. “makin’ us work for it, huh? You got no idea what that’s been doin’ to us.” his mouth is rough on your neck, trying to mark every inch of you and when he nips at your pulse, you can’t stop the sound that escapes you, it’s half a gasp, half a moan and you feel Ford’s hand twitching against your hip.

“You sound so fuckin’ pretty like that,” Stan’s hands are big and rough like the rest of him, so when he slides them under the blanket, slipping between your legs, you gasp louder.

The heat in the room doesn’t come from the candles or blanket anymore, it’s from their bodies pressing closer, crowding you against the sofa’s cushions. Ford is still in front of you, his eyes locked onto yours as if he’s trying to solve the most complicated equation of his life, but his trembling hands betray him, desperate to touch you. Stan’s behind you, his chest solid against your back, arms bracketing you in like a warm cage, and when his lips find the shell of your ear, you feel his grin.

“Tell him, sweetheart, tell sixer what you want.”

You don’t answer right away, you look at Ford, noticing his pupils blown wide and his breath uneven. He’s waiting, waiting for permission, waiting for you to say the words he clearly doesn’t have the courage to ask for himself.

Stan’s hand is skimming along your stomach, fingers curling over the hem of your sweater. “Or maybe you don’t want him to touch you,” he adds, teasing. “is that it? you’d rather just let me have all the fun?”

You shake your head, making the most needy face ever, giving Ford puppy eyes. “no. . . no, I want him to.”

“Hear that, Ford? our pretty little thing is giving you the green light.” Ford is still silent, his eyes are glued to where Stan’s fingers have disappeared beneath the hem of your sweater.

You shift slightly, arching your back as Stan’s hand slides higher, dragging the fabric of your sweater with it, inch by slow excruciating inch. The air feels cooler against your skin now. Ford’s hand freezing just short of touching your bare waist.

“Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” Stan purrs, his hand finally stopping just beneath your chest. He pauses, though, his thumb stroking a line along your chest as he waits.

You realise what Stan hints at, your eyes meet Ford’s gaze again and you give him a little coquettish smile. “Do you want to see?”

Not waiting for his brother’s slow and awkward response, Stan’s fingers curl under the fabric of your sweater, lifting it higher, exposing your skin painfully slow until the candlelight catches the soft curve of your beautiful breasts. The room is dim, the fire casting flickering shadows across the walls and you swear you can feel Ford’s gaze burning into you, hotter than the flames.

“Fuck, would you look at her. . .”

You should feel exposed, vulnerable, but hungry gaze of two men make your head spin.

“Touch her, dumbass,” Stan prompts as he tilts your chin back against his shoulder. “don’t just sit there looking, she’s right here, beggin’ for it.”

Stanford hesitates, the effort of restraint is physically painful for him. But then you breath out needy “yes, please” and his hand finally moves, he trails his fingers to cup your breast, brushing his thumb over your nipple in a touch that’s far too gentle for how much you’ve been aching for this.

His breathing quickens, blood rushing to his lower body and you watch his throat bob as he swallows nervously, his gaze fixed on the soft peaks of your breasts, bare now in the cold air. Your pretty nipples pebble, whether from the chill or their eyes drinking you in. His touch feels so warm and when his fingers catch on the sensitive peaks, you sigh, your hips jerking slightly against Stan’s thighs.

Stan chuckles, letting his hand go lower your stomach now. “there you go, see? not so hard, is it?”

Ford doesn’t answer, too focused on studying your beautiful face every time he tweaks or rolls the delicate skin beneath his six fingers. You whimper softly and the sound seems to spur him on, his movements becoming firmer, more confident, and oh god, you’re melting between them.

“You’re just so beautiful,” Ford glances at you, his eyes searching yours to make sure you believe him. “do you know that?”

You don’t get the chance to answer because Stan chooses that moment to push his hand lower, slipping his fingers beneath the fabric of your panties and brushing between your wet folds. You let out a gasp, reaching to grip his arms, but Stan just laughs.

“Looks at that, she’s dripping, all for us. ain’t that right, sweetheart?” his fingers circle slowly, teasingly and you let out a choked moan, your hips bucking against his hand.

Ford’s gaze drops as he takes in the way Stan’s hand moves, your body responds to every touch as you move your hips to chase the pleasure. “Stan, don’t—”

“Don’t what?” his twin interrupts, grinning. “don’t touch her? don’t make her feel good? or is it that you don’t wanna watch?” he presses his fingers on your needy clit. “because if that’s the case, you might wanna look away now, sixer.”

Oh, you’re trembling, your whole body is shaking apart under the weight of their hands and their voices. Stan’s thick fingers already teasing your little hole, penetrating just a little, but enough to make you moan, the obscene wet sounds filling the room now, slickness coating his fingertips. It’s shameless, loud and you should feel embarrassed for being this fucking wet, mortified even, but all you can focus on is Ford watching.

He’s staring at where Stan’s hand disappears between your legs, his own six fingers twitching, can’t decide where to go next.

“Go ahead.” Stan slides his fingers deeper into your pussy, earning another helpless moan from your lips. “she’s fucking soaked for you.” he turns his head, brushing his lips against your ear, and murmurs, “tell him, baby, tell him you want it.”

Your lips part, but no words come out at first, your brain too fogged up with heat and touch while Stan scissors his fingers inside you, spreading your wet folds, exposing your needy pussy to Ford. When Stan’s thick finger brushes against that tender sweet spot your vision goes white and you finally manage to whine. “Ford, Ford! please,” you reach your hand out blindly to grab his wrist, guiding him to you. “please, touch me.”

Ford settles his hands on your thighs and you immediately notice how his touch is so different from Stan’s, soft, tentative, awkward, trembling, scared to move too fast, but then you make this soft, pleading noise and it flips a switch in him. His hands slide up and he finally pushes Stan’s hand away, sliding his fingers into your dripping cunt with an eagerness that makes your head spin.

“Holy moses,” Ford groans as he presses his fingers deeper. “You’re— you’re so warm, so wet.” he moves slowly, exploring, testing and it’s clumsy, because you can feel how hard he’s trying to do it right.

“Woah, didn’t know you had it in you.” Stan’s hands move up your stomach until they find your breasts again, cupping them with a roughness that makes you arch into him. “don’t forget about these, though. They’re just as perfect as everything else.”

You moan when Stan’s thumbs circle your sensitive hard nipples, squeezing a little bit, meanwhile Ford’s fingers find a rhythm inside you that has your hips rolling forward, chasing the friction. “Oh, Stan, Ford,” you breathe, your head falling back against Stan’s shoulder, “pleasee. . .”

“Please, what? please touch you more? please fuck you right here in front of sixer? or is it sixer you want to—”

“Stanley, don’t, ugh, don’t talk like that!” Ford glares at his brother, but his long fingers never stop thrusting and moving, curling and twisting inside you, making you cry out while he scolds Stan for being “too dirty”.

Your thighs tighten around Ford’s wrist and you can’t stop the sound you make, you couldn’t even if you tried. You sound so high and broken, so loud, a trembling little wail that falls into the air and hangs there, suspended between the flickering candlelight and sound of Stan’s chuckle.

“That’s it, doll. Go on, let him see it, let that nerd see how pretty you are when you cum. Isn’t that right, Ford? Isn’t she the prettiest damn thing you’ve ever seen?”

And damn it, Stan can talk so well that his voice and words alone are enough to get you close. You whine again, taking everything they both give you like the goddamn obedient thing you are. Fuck, you're so ready to let Stan or Ford finally fuck you, feel that cock stretch you open, but you are so horny that even being stuffed full, you'll still be begging for more. And all you can do for now is cumming on Ford's fingers before you'll get the real thing.

Ford doesn’t answer, not in words, at least. He drops his gaze back to where his fingers disappear into you, his movements growing faster, more confident as he rubs your sensitive bundle of nerves that has you keening.

“Yes, fuck, yes, just like that,” you whine, close. “please, i’m— gonna cum!”

“Good girl.” you’re so lost in pleasure you can’t recognise who even says that. Ford’s fingers press deeper, until he finds that spot again, that perfect, maddening spot as his thumb circles your little clit. “just let go, sweetheart, i’ve got you. We’ve got you.”

Just like that, your hips jerk as the coil inside you tightens to the point of snapping. You bury your face in the crook of Stan’s neck, your soft cries muffled against his hot skin as you cum, shuddering in release while Ford’s fingers still working you through every last wave of it.

“Fucking hell,” Stan mutters behind you. “all fucked out and dripping down your hand, bet you’ve never seen anything so damn beautiful, huh?”

Ford just stares at your pretty face and the mess your pussy made, his fingers still buried deep inside you as he glances down at his own hand, glistening in the low candlelight. “Yes, shes just incredible. I don’t think i’ve ever—” but his response is too slow.

“Yeah, yeah, we get it,” Stan shuts his brother up, his tone edging on impatient as his hands move down, grabbing your thighs and pulling you back against him. “but i’m fucking done waiting.”

You whimper softly when Stan pulls you away from Ford, manhandling you like you’re nothing more than a toy in his grip. “Stan—” you start, but your words are cut off when he spins you around and lays you back against the couch, towering over you.

“It’s okay, baby.” his hands are already at his belt, yanking it loose. “you’re mine now.”

Ford looks up, finally waking up from his fantasies, still kneeling by the couch, his hand hovering like he doesn’t know what to do with it anymore. “Wait, what? But we—”

“Tsk, you’ve had your turn, sixer.” Stan glances at him with a smirk, pushing your legs apart with his hand. “but this pussy is mine.”

Then he tears open the foil packet with his teeth and you swear you never saw anything this sexy. Stan’s hands working fast and you can’t help the soft, needy sound that escapes you as you watch him rolling the condom on. You just wish to be filled now. “Been waiting too long for this,” Stan positions himself at your wet entrance, the head of his cock rubbing through your sensitive folds, coating his length in your wetness.

Fuck, the stretch burns, but it’s good, so good and that guttural groan Stan lets out as he sinks into your pussy deeper fills your stomach with butterflies.

“Fuuuuck,” he hisses as he bottoms out, feeling your soft walls around his cock. “tight little cunt’s squeezin’ me like a fuckin’ vice. How the hell are you this perfect?”

“Stanley!” your voice sounds so breathy, your hands reaching for him, clutching at his shoulders as your thighs tremble on either side of him.

Ford’s breath catches he watches the way you arch beneath his brother, the way your gorgeous body trembles with every thrust, every touch. His hand moves unconsciously toward the bulge straining against his trousers.

“Shh, sweetie,” Stan coos and presses forward, sinking into your cunt slowly, until he’s buried to the hilt. “fuck, you’re perfect.”

Stanford watches, wrapping his hand around his own cock, stroking himself in slow pulls as he takes in the sight of you, so flushed, trembling, undone as you let his brother fuck you. He can't really believe that this is happening right in front of his eyes, he didn't even have time to protest, his eyes flicker between your face and where Stan’s hips meet yours, his jaw clenching as he watches the way your little pussy stretch around him, taking him in so easily, so beautifully.

“You’re missing out, Ford,” Stan pulls his hips back before thrusting forward again slowly, his cock penetrates you deeper. “she’s so fucking tight, so warm, guess you’re wishing you’d been a little greedier, huh?”

Your lashes flutter, damp with tears you didn’t realise had spilled, your lips parted, all swollen, trembling and your voice is slurred now, pouring out in little whimpers that are hardly words at all, just fragments of syllables that tumble over each other.

“S-Stan, oh! oh god, it’s s-so big,” your nails digging into the couch as your hips stutter against his, helpless to the rhythm he sets.

“Just like that, honey.” Stan growls, gripping you hard to hold you still. “you’re taking it, sweetheart, all of it. Fuck, being such a good girl for me.”

“Good girl,” you echo back in the sweetest, dreamiest tone, your words spilling out soft as silk, trembling with every breath you take. Your head falls back against the cushions, strands of hair clinging to your hot flushed cheeks and you can barely manage another gasp before Stan presses his cock into your pussy again, harder this time. “m’good, right? f-fuck, fuck!” the question slips out, a broken little thing, barely there as your fingers claw helplessly at the cushions. You’re drowning, drunk on the way his dick drags against every sweet sensitive spot inside you, pushing you further and further into some heavenly haze.

Ford’s hand moves in slow strokes over his hard cock, every now and then stopping to squeeze at the base, his knuckles pale with the effort of holding himself back. He watches you, only you, his sacred vision meant to be cherished, wishing it was him filling you up instead.

His gaze devours every delicate part of you: how your lips tremble as you moan Stan’s name, the soft arch of your spine when his brother thrusts deeper, the way your body, so soft, so sweet, melts against every rough movement. Ford’s chest rises and falls as he breathes shallowly and uneven, his jaw tight.

“She’s stunning, isn’t she?” you hear Stan’s proud voice, every thrust making you cry out, your body jolting forward only to be pulled back by the iron grip he has on your waist. “look at her, sixer. Look at this perfect little pussy takin’ me so fuckin’ well. But eh, what a shame you’re not brave enough to handle her like this, are you?”

Ford’s lips press into a thin line, he tries to ignore his brother’s mockery, tries to avoid conflict, narrowing his eyes, but his cock twitches in his hand at the sound of your soft begging voice. “Foord,” you whimper, reaching for him with trembling fingers.

“Go on. Let him see how much you love it. Let him hear how good this thick fuckin’ cock feels inside you.”

“You’re insufferable,” Ford finally snaps in serious voice. His hand tightens on his cock as he uses his thumb to smear the slick of precum over the swollen tip while he kneels beside you. “you think brute force is all it takes to please her? Amateur.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Stan spits back, though there’s a slight falter in his thrusts, more sensual and slow, bringing you more pleasure, making you whine. Your pussy clenches around him and the sound of your soft cries only makes him groan.

“Stan, oh fuck!”

“There you go, doll.” his grin widens as he watches you come undone beneath him. “You don’t even know how pretty you look right now, do you? All spread out for me, crying on my cock.”

“Yes, yes! it’s, oh god, it’s too good—”

“Oh, you’re just drunk on it, aren’t you?” he teases, his hips snapping forward again, drawing another broken cry from your lips. “Go on, sweetie, tell me how good it feels, tell me how much you love it.”

Your words are a jumbled mess, tumbling out in a rush of breathless babble: “so good, so big, can’t! oh, can’t think, Stan, i— i love it, i love you so much!”

“Take it, baby. Keep talking, let me hear that pretty voice.”

“S’too much, too deep,” your head is shaking, your cheeks flushed, your eyes glassy as you stare up at him, your lips trembling with every word. “c-can feel deep, so deep, feels so good. . . oh, please, please don’t stop—”

“Damn it, damn it,” Ford mutters from where he’s still kneeling by the couch, his eyes are locked on the spot where Stan’s hips meet yours, watching the way you take him, the way you stretch around him, the wet, messy sounds filling the room. “you’re going to fucking kill her.”

“Nah, she’s tougher than she looks, aren’t you, pretty?” Stan glances down at you, brushing his thumb over your swollen lower lip, then wiping your sweet tears off your cute face. “c’mon, sweetheart, show sixer how strong you are. Tell him you can take it.”

“C-Can take it,” you echo again as your lashes flutter. “wan’ more, need more, please, don’t stop, don’t ever stop—”

Stan laughs at how desperate you sound, so dumb and drunk on his cock sliding in and out of you, his hand moves down between your thighs, finding your swollen clit as he starts toying with it, and the sound you make is pure music, a beautiful cry that makes his cock twitch inside you.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking, hhnngh, perfect, could fuck you forever. Might just do it. . . keep you here, all pretty and fucked out and crying for me.” his thrusts grow harsher, dragging against your cervix in a way that has your toes curling. It’s too much, too good and the only sound you can make is a sweet, broken hum, your lips parted as drool threatens to escape.

And through it all, Ford is still there, his gaze devouring you. His six-fingered hand, so deft and steady in every other setting, now trembles as it pumps his leaking cock, betraying the tension rippling through him. His flushed dick twitches in his hand, as he tries to match the pace of Stan’s thrusts.

“Hah, you really wanna join in that bad? Go ahead, help yourself. I’m sure our doll here wouldn’t mind, right?”

Your head turns weakly, tears slipping down your cheeks as you nod, your lips quivering with your next plea. “Ford, please, please, wan’ you too. . . need you, need both of you. Can take it, promise, promise i can.” your brain turn to mush.

He exhales sharply through his nose, his broad shoulders heaving as he tries to control himself, tries to fight the pull of your voice, soft and begging and oh so sweet. But that bastard thrusts harder into you, making you forget about everything at once, especially about that worried look on Ford’s face. Stan fucks you even faster and your lips part. “Stan, Ford, wanna be good, wanna be so good for you, im. . . i’m your good girl, yes? wanna be good, please, let me—”

Stan uses his thumb to touch your flushed, tear-streaked cheek. “Oh, you’re more than good, sweetheart. You’re fucking perfect, our perfect little doll, huh?”

Ford’s brows furrow as he leans closer. “she’s. . . she’s really out of it. Stan, are you sure—”

“Cmon, sixer, you’re tellin’ me you wouldn’t do the same if you were in my shoes? she’s so fuckin wet, bet you’re wishin’ you’d been the one to break her in, or am I wrong?”

You can’t even think anymore, not a coherent thought left in that pretty, spinning head of yours. You sob out his name again, your hips bucking up against his, your head tilting back as the pleasure builds, until it’s too much while you moan “faster” and “please” as you fall apart all over again, babbling incoherent nonsense. But what comes out of your mouth next is definitely something Ford didn't expect.

“Ford, you’re s’good, so handsome. . . not fair, hnngh, you’re both so pretty. . . you, with all your. . . your smartness an’-an’—” your brows knit as you lose the thread of your sentence, but the pout that takes over your mouth is enough to make Ford combust on the spot.

Stan chuckles at your words, moving his fingers in slow, unrelenting circles that have you squirming. “Don’t try to flatter him too much, pretty. His ego’s big enough as it is.”

“She’s completely gone, Stan, is she even coherent anymore?”

Stan snorts, leaning back to admire the way you look beneath him, your tear-streaked cheeks, your glossy eyes and parted lips with drops of saliva running down your chin. “Oh, coherent enough,” he uses his hand to cup your jaw and tilt your pretty face to his brother. “tell that nerd how good you’re doing.”

“S-So good,” you sob. “so good, m’your good girl, promise, jus’ need you both so bad, so bad it hurts—”

“She’s. . . she’s not making any sense. She’s—”

“She’s good,” Stan cuts him off, sliding his hand down to rest against your lower belly, pressing lightly to feel the way his cock moves inside you.

“M’fine, m’really good, s’good. . . love you, Stan, love Ford, too! wanna—” your words break off into breathy giggle as you reach for Ford with trembling hands. “wanna kiss you, Ford, please, please, lemme—”

And just like that, Ford’s resolve shatters like glass. “Damn it,” he kisses you. It’s hesitant at first, his lips brushing yours so lightly it feels like a dream, but the soft, desperate moan that spills from your mouth pulls him in deeper.

“S’pretty,” you murmur against his mouth dreamily, your fingers curling around the collar of his sweater. “Ford, you’re so pretty, so smart, so perfect. . . wanna make you feel good, please, can i? please?”

“She’s gonna eat you alive, sixer,” Stan grins, slipping his large hand beneath your sweater to cup one of your breasts, brushing his thumb over the stiffened peak. “better give her what she wants before she drives herself crazy.”

“Y-You can take me too, can’t you?” Ford’s voice sounds like he’s barely keeping himself together.

“She’s made for it,” his twin answers for you, slowing his rough thrusts to a roll of his hips that grinds into just the right spot. “aren’t you, sweetheart? made to take every fuckin’ thing we give you. Tell him. Tell sixer how bad you want your pretty mouth full.”

“Please, wanna make you both feel so good, please, Ford, wan’ your cock, just wanna taste you— ah!” your moans are interrupted when Stan pushes roughly into your warmth again.

So Ford’s restraint doesn’t last. He lets out a broken groan, cradling your jaw with one hand while the other ghosts over your lips. “Open for me, darling,” you obey without hesitation, your tongue peeking out as he slips two long fingers into your mouth. The warmth of you makes his cock twitch again, his face flushed and torn with guilt. “Good girl,” he breathes, brushing his thumb against your cheek as you suck, your pretty lips glistening with spit.

“Fuckin’ adorable,” Stan slams his cock into you hard enough to make the couch creak. “think she loves you talkin’ to her like that, sixer. Makes her even wetter, fuck.”

“Can you take me here, darling? You're already so full, but i know you can take more. You’re extraordinary, after all.” you babble nonsense in response around Ford’s fingers, tears and spit mingling on your face as your gaze locks onto his. When his fingers leave your mouth, a string of saliva connects them to your lips, and Ford swallows thickly before leaning forward.

“Hear that, baby? you’re so goddamn perfect, even sixer here can’t help himself. Go on, open that pretty mouth for him.”

You don’t know if it’s that crazy desperation you have for both twins or Stan’s tone or that needy look on Ford’s face, but your lips part without hesitation again, and Ford exhales, his cock presses against your tongue, the weight of him dizzying as you wrap your lips around him, taking him as deep as you can. He whimpers and that noise makes your pussy throb once again around Stan’s length.

Six-fingered hand moves to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, not forcing, just guiding, as he starts to move, slow thrusts that press against the back of your throat. “Perfect, love, you’re. . . a-ah, perfect. Look at you, taking both of us like this. . . such a good little thing for us. . .”

You’re too far gone to answer, too consumed by the overwhelming fullness, Stanley is relentless, thrusting into your pussy, dragging against your cervix, making you sob around Ford’s length. It’s filthy, the wet sounds of your mouth and cunt harmonizing in this dirty symphony, echoing off the walls.

“Look at her,” Stan growls, gripping your hips to keep you in place as he grinds deeper. “bet you’re jealous as hell, huh? wishing it was you stretching her out like this?”

Ford’s response is a fractured groan as your throat tightens around him. “Don’t— don’t say shit like that, Stan.” even though Ford seems to be more gentle than his brother, his hold on you is firm as he guides your pretty swollen lips down and you let him. You let them, because that’s all you’ve ever wanted, to be theirs, to be good for them, to be their fleshlight they can use whenever they want.

Your body trembling from the overwhelming fullness, Stan splitting you open below while Ford’s cock steals the breath from your lungs. Tears streak your cheeks, glittering like gemstones in the candlelight, and Stan leans forward, his rough thumb smearing them away. “cryin’ so pretty for us, baby.”

Your warm mouth stretches as you take Ford in and he moans, moans and moans again, low-key turning into same mess as you when your tongue curls and presses against him. He accidentally thrusts too deep, making you gag lightly, tears spilling anew, but you keep going, keep sucking him off like the good girl you are. Because you’re their good girl, their sweet, obedient little thing who gives and gives until there’s nothing left. You hum around his length and the vibration making his knees buckle.

“Mmmph,” you manage, pulling back briefly to gasp for air before diving back down on Ford’s cock, hollowing your cheeks, your throat tightening as you try to take him deeper. “s’good, so full, love you both, love being yours. . . love being your good girl. . .”

Ford’s brows knit, his stormy eyes softening as he cups your cheek with one hand. “Careful, darling,” he caresses your spit-slicked lips with his thumb. “don’t push yourself too hard.” but his body betrays him, his cock twitching against your tongue, desperate for more of your warmth, your wetness, your everything.

“Careful? Sixer, you really think she’s not begging for more?”

You are. God, you are. Your body arches as Stan’s thick cock drags against that devastating spot inside you, your mind blanking with every sharp snap of his hips. “Please,” you gasp, pulling off Ford with a wet pop. “More, need more, please, Ford, want you both.”

Stan chuckles darkly, gripping your waist as he ruts into you, watching your beautiful nipples in the candlelight while he ruins your little pussy with every deep thrust, making you cry out around Ford’s cock. “Ugh, bet she’d beg to have us both at once if she could talk right now.”

“D-Dont—” Ford’s response falter as his head tilts back. “she’s, oh fuck, she’s doing enough.”

Your eyes flutter shut, your mind blank and when you pull back to breathe your voice is swallowed immediately when Ford presses his cock back into your mouth, your hands clinging to his thighs as your body shudders between them. Too rough.

Ford regrets his action immediately, his gaze softening as he watches you. “S-sorry, love, i didn’t m—“ he cant even finish his sentence as you take him deeper again. “Ahh, there. . . there's my good girl,” he strokes your cheek gently.

Stan’s growl sounds through the room as his grip tightens on your hips, burying himself deeper, his balls tighten as he pulses inside you. “fuck, angel, you take me so good, tight lil’ thing, this perfect pussy was made for me, wasn’t it? hell, im gonna cum. . .”

You’re trembling under him, eyes heavy-lidded and watery, your nails scraping helplessly against Ford’s thighs as your mouth hangs open, while he nudges his cock on your cheek now, rubbing it against your skin, giving his beautiful girl time to breathe and rest. But god, Stan’s cock makes you cry out so pretty it could’ve brought a man to his knees.

Ford’s gaze flicks to his brother, the irritation obvious in his eyes. “Stanley, she’s already so overstimulated. Can’t you slow down?”

“Slow down? Ford, look at her, she’s fuckin’ drunk on it.”

“Can’t you— damn, at least touch her properly?”

“What the fuck do you think i’m doing?” Stan drops his hand low, and when those thick fingers starts teasing that tender little pearl of yours, you cant stop the pitiful, muffled sob that leave your throat. “Happy now, professor? she’s got my cock buried in her and my fuckin’ fingers making her melt. Nothin’ to complain about.”

Ford falters, his brows furrowing as his eyes dart to yours, searching for any sign of discomfort on his beloved girl's face. Instead, he found you gazing up at him, adoring, your lips parting around his tip with a soft, wet sound. “I. . . still, Stanley, you could—”

“Don’t you ‘Stanley’ me. You’re not exactly mr. gentle here yourself, sixer. You practically fucked her throat.”

Ford flushes, holding your hair as his composure slips another notch. “I’m not, she’s just so—” he groans as you use opportunity and take his cock in your mouth again. “I just—! I don’t mean to—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Stan’s rhythm falters when the tension in his body finally reaches its peak as his head drops back with a deep moan of your name. Fuck, the condom is the only thing stopping him from flooding you completely, but its hardly enough to dull the intense, claiming press of him inside you.

“Fuck— fuck, angel,” he pants. “gonna fill you up so bad if this wasn’t in the way— goddammit! wanna see it dripping out of you, doll.”

“S-Stan,” you whimper, trying to form a coherent thought. “so good, so good, i—”

Ford feels a mix of frustration and worry, watching the way his twin manhandles you. “Ugh, you’re going to break her at this rate. Do you even care that she’s—”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, sixer. Tell the man yourself, baby, you’re loving this, right?”

You manage a soft, breathless “yes, wan’ more, wan’ all of you—” before your words dissolve into a string of muffled moans and nonsensical sounds, your thoughts too hazy to form anything coherent because the way Stan fucks you feels unyielding.

Stan’s fingers flex against your clit one last time and then he’s gripping your hips like a man possessed, his teeth bared as his cock twitches one last time inside you, it pulses against the grip of your velvet walls. He holds you in place as he empties himself into the condom, muttering a string of incoherent curses. Your breath hitches, your body still oversensitive, needing and when his thumb circles your clit lazily, but deliberate, you shiver hard enough that you nearly collapse.

“Take it, baby,” Stanley tortures your sensitive pearl over and over, feeling your pussy flattering around him and he grins when you whimper. “such a mess, doll. S’pose we’ll have to fix that, huh? Fill you up proper next time. No damn rubber in the way.

Ford, meanwhile, is so ruined. His face is flushed and he’s pulling out of your mouth with a wet, sticky sound that sends a shiver down your spine. His cock twitches, shiny with your spit, he chokes out something that sounds suspiciously like a protest to his brother's words, but his voice falters when your hand wraps around the base of his cock, your tongue darting out to catch a bead of precum dripping from the flushed tip.

“I'm close, I'm so cl-close. . . Wait, wait, love, need tissues, dont want. . . don't want to make a mess.”

But you disagree. “Ford,” your gaze hazy but full of affection as you press your lips against his palm. “you don’t have to worry. I want to taste you. Please?”

Ford’s eyes going wide as his cock twitches in your grip. He looks at you like you’ve just said the most scandalous, sinful thing imaginable and you have.

“Go on, sixer, you heard the lady.”

Ford still has doubts, but he's not in a position to think and analyze for a long time. That's why when you taste the head of his cock, his resolve crumbles. You give his tip another gentle kiss, humming softly at the salty taste of him. Your hands cradle his hips as you move slowly, your tongue swirling around him, savoring every drop like it’s the sweetest treat.

He guides you back to him, his cock throbbing against your lips as you take him in, inch by inch. “Yeah, feels so good. . . ” his voice breaks, his fingers threading through your hair again.

You moan softly in response, your eyes closing as you focus on Ford, taking him deeper, letting him feel the full warmth of your mouth as your tongue presses against him. His hips jerk, setting the rhythm that lets him fuck your throat slowly, he mutters something that sounds like an apology, though it’s swallowed by a desperate groan.

“Darling, please, so good. . . You're so good for us.”

You can't help but get turned on by his voice again, even though you're not sure you can handle the second round right now, you still need to catch your breath.

Ford's gaze locks with yours and he nods as a warning that he’s close, watching your shiny lips, swollen around his length. The sound he makes sends a spark of heat straight to your core. Its messy, and noisy, and when Ford finally spills into your mouth with a sharp cry of your name, you swallow it down to the last drop, wishing he'd fill your pussy too, but it can wait. For now.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re somethin’ else, doll.”

Ford pulls you into his arms the moment you release him, his hands cradling your face, checking if his precious girl he’s terrified to lose is okay. “Thank you, love, you were such a good girl for me.”

“For us, Sixer, for us.”

The room falls silent after the last of your trembling fades, and the three of you, sweaty and exhausted, lie on the couch.

Somewhere in the background, the storm outside rumbles one last time before finally giving way to quiet.

Then. . . click.

The lights flicker on, suddenly, obnoxiously bright, washing the room in unforgiving fluorescence. You squint, blinking against the glare as you lift your head from Stan’s chest, a groggy, borderline-irritated groan slipping from your lips.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” your voice sounds so weak from all the. . . well, everything.

Stan grunts, throwing an arm over his eyes as if to block out the light. “As i said, goddamn timing.”

Ford sits up a little, rubbing at his neck with a wince. His glasses are crooked on his face, and his hair is a mess, though not nearly as bad as Stan’s.

You can’t help it, you snort, slapping your hand against Stan’s big chest playfully. “You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

“Yeah? Well, you don’t look much better, sweetheart,” Stan retorts with a tired smirk. “besides, i’m too old for this shit. Don’t expect me to move for at least an hour.”

“Make it two,” his twin adds, leaning back with a tired sigh. “i think i’ve pulled something.”

You roll your eyes, pushing yourself up on wobbly legs. “Oh, you two are pathetic.”

“Says the girl who can't even walk straight now.”

You stick your tongue out at Stan, though you know he can’t see it because poor man already closed his eyes.

“Whatever, i’m taking a shower, try not to die of old age while i’m gone.”

Ford smiles softly at your behaviour, but Stan just groans, waving a hand at you dismissively. “Have fun. Don’t expect me to move a fuckin’ inch.”

You roll your eyes again, muttering something about men as you disappear into the bathroom.

But what you don’t see and what Stan doesn’t see too is how Ford’s gaze lingers on you as you go.

The door clicks shut, and Stan sighs heavily, already half-asleep. “Wake me up in a week.”

Ford glances at him, smirking faintly. “Sure, Stanley. A week.”

The bathroom.

You’re standing under the spray of hot water, letting it wash away the stickiness and sweat, when the door creaks open behind you.

“Stan, i swear to god, if you’ve suddenly decided you can—” you start, turning to glance over your shoulder only to freeze when you see Ford stepping inside.

“Not Stan,” he answers as he locks the door behind him.

Your brows shoot up. “Ford? what are you—?”

“He’s out cold,” Ford says simply as he steps closer. “and besides,” his fingers brush over your hip, and you shiver from wild contrast of his cool touch against your heated skin. “i didn’t get nearly enough of you earlier.” he presses you back against the cool tile, cupping your face, tilting it to capture your lips in a kiss which now feels more possessive than gentle.

“Ford,” you whisper, half-scolding but mostly breathless. “he’ll—”

“He won’t,” he interrupts. “and even if he does. . . well, perhaps it’s time Stanley learned to share properly.”

Before you can respond, his hand is slipping between your thighs, using his fingers to part you.

“Now, let’s see if you can stay quiet, darling. Don’t want to wake him, do we?”

[the-fluff-piece]

Sexy Headcanon -

How they like to go down on you

Law, Sanji, Zoro all have different techniques licking pussy

This is an 18+ headcanon, so minors don't read, don't interact

Like this one? Check out my headcanon masterlist and my Story masterlist

Law

He's fully (for his standard) clothed and stays that way

Beforehand he studied the clitoris intensively, he knows where all the sensitive parts are

He doesn't like it as foreplay. He likes leading you away to some corner in the middle of the day to yank your pants down or push your skirt up, get on his knees in front of you and lick you through your panties before moving them aside

He likes his hands under your shirt, massaging and pinching your breasts as his tongue gets to work on your pussy

He's methodical and mindblowingly slow, he knows he gets you there and likes to make to you ask for more, faster and harder

When he decides that you've begged enough, he gives it to you with all of his ability. His mouth sucking on your clitoris, stroking with his tongue and fucking you with his fingers. He also likes to remind you that there's people nearby and you should keep quiet

He loves to look you in the eyes when you cum

When you're finished and exhausted, he gives you a hot, wet kiss before returning to whatever he's been doing. He'll be looking at your reddened face with a knowing grin.

Zoro

He's a man of carnal tastes and high intensity, it's not enough for him to just pleasure you with his mouth, he likes to get his cock sucked simultaneously - so you'll have to straddle his face and get down on him, too

The man also has no sense of pacing, he starts how he feels like and if that's full force, you'll have to deal with it

Beware! The bastard bites, nibbles and sucks so hard you will definitely get marks

His wicked tongue is practically everywhere, inside and outside you. His mouth is always hot

He's grunting louder than you

He allows himself to cum only after satisfying you

Once is never enough, when he's finished with mouth stuff, he's immediately hard again and ready to fuck

Sanji

First, he always freezes and stares ar your pussy. He never gets enough of your sight. Your most tender and sensitive part, there for him to please and enjoy

He begins slowly and cautiously, he doesn't want to hurt you. His tongue is exploring every fold with slow curiosity while his blue eyes are fixed on your face to asses what brings you the most pleasure

When he found the way that makes you moan loudly, he won't stop until you come, enjoying your moans and your taste, stroking himself because it's so hot to him. It really gets him going to bring you pleasure, he moans against your flesh as he sucks and licks you with increasing intensity

Actually, he finishes first, whimpering as he comes on the sheets, but he doesn't stop, he takes your thighs into his hands to lift your hips up and becomes a wild slumbering mess. His face is pressed so closely to your pussy that you feel his beard tickling you.

When you cum for him, he's happy and exhausted and cuddles your chest to be praised

[nisuna]

Need more yuuji smut!!

So hear me out-

bestfriend!yuuji finding your depressed ass in the park while it's raining and you're soaked. So he takes you home and take care of you and puts you to sleep in jis clothes.

Then wakes you up by eating you out and then .. you know.. the rest of the stuff

Holy shit am I in my angst era? 😭 Yuji is 100% my comfort character, so this was very nice to write. He's so boyfriend oml I love him so much<3 I don't even care if this does well or not. I really needed this, tysm for the idea!!<3

⚠️ If you or anyone you know struggles with their mental health or has thoughts like these, please look up your local s*uic*de prevention hotlines. Everybody deserves to get help, and everyone deserves to live. It might not always be as easy as in my little story, but please look after yourselves, I love you all so much and thank you all for all of the love and support🫶🏻 As someone who's been struggling with their mental health ever since their early teens I can say that I definitely can't speak for everyone on this matter, but maybe some will find comfort and familiarity in this

TW: angst, s*icid*l ideation, mentions of declining mental health, hurt and comfort, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, body worship, nipple play, body appreciation, mating press, confession, a lot of crying, this is so dear to my heart, supportive!bff!yuji

~2,8k words~

<3masterlist<3

--------mature themes ;strictly 18+ MDNI-----------

Everything has been fucked lately. Your job sucks, school isn't going great, your social life is almost nonexistent, your family is a mess and you just want some peace and calm. You've been home constantly, but you just can't stand it anymore, which is exactly why you went outside for some fresh air. And as if the universe was giving you the middle finger as well, it started raining. But you just couldn't be bothered anymore. Life sucks and your mental health is declining. So you don't even flinch at the rain hitting your lowered head. You don't care that your clothes are soaked at this point. You just sit there and take it. You've been sitting here for what feels like hours. There has been multiple nosy on lookers that passed by mumbling. Some of them showed concern, but some of them were threw disgusted looks at you and assumed you're some kind of junkie that's loitering around in their peaceful park. You couldn't care less, nobody was actually brave enough to approach you anyway, so you let them talk.

It's getting cold, but you can't bring yourself to move. You're soaked and it's getting dark, but you feel like you have nowhere to go. You're starting to feel numb, your hands and feet are cold and you almost can't feel them anymore. This is actually quite nice, you're neither sad nor mad, you feel empty, but it's not uncomfortable like it usually is. You feel calm, you're not worried. You think that freezing to d*ath might actually be a good way to go. It would be like falling asleep without having to ever wake up again. For the first time in weeks you felt yourself smile. You've made up your mind, nobody will miss you anyway so why bother. But as you were about to lie down, you heard a familiar voice screaming your name.

"What the hell-", you thought to yourself as you sat back up and looked around. You didn't have to wait long before seeing a familiar figure run towards you.

"Y/N!!! Where are-? Oh my god there you are. I looked everywhere for you. What are you doing?", he reached out to grab your shoulders, only for you to flinch away.

"Yuji, what are you doing here?"

"Well, you weren't picking up my calls and I got worried." When you didn't give him an answer, he continued, "Are you alright? Whoa you're soaked and my god you're ice cold c'mon let's get you home. I don't want you to get sick.", he grabbed your hand, trying to get you off that bench. But you didn't budge.

"Y/N? What's wrong c'mon let's go-"

"No, I'm fine, really. Just leave me be."

"What are you even saying? How could I? You are in no condition to be left alone. It's freezing and you're soaked c'mon let's go home-"

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE GODDAMN IT!", you screamed and felt tears leave your eyes. Shit. When you reached up to wipe away at your eyes, Yuji stopped you and wiped your tears with his sleeve instead.

"Y/N I don't know what's going on, but please let me help.", he knelt down, squeezing your trembling hands and giving you a warm smile.

"Why do you care so much?", that came out way too wobbly for your liking.

"Why do I care? Y/N, you're my best friend of course I care. How could I not? Look at you."

You were at a loss of words, so he continued. "Is it okay if I touch you more?" Nod. As soon as you gave him the okay he pulled you into a tight hug. It took you a bit to relax, but you eventually gave in and let your emotions run wild. You were shaking, crying loudly in his embrace. All the built-up tension of the past weeks came flooding out, but he was there to catch you. He held you close as you let go. He didn't say a word until you calmed down a bit.

He pulled away to take a look at your puffy face. "Let's go over to mine, hm? What do you say?"

"Fuck it.", you thought as you nodded and got up.

"Want me to carry you?"

"No, that's embarassing. I can walk alright.", you huffed.

"Don't worry, it's late. Nobody will see."

"Okay."

After he wrapped you up in his jacket, you got on his back and let him carry you to his apartment. He's so warm and smells really good. You subconsciously nuzzled your face closer to him. Falling asleep like this would be way nicer than alone. You thought of that as you closed your eyes and hugged him tighter.

Luckily, he only lived a couple blocks away from the park. He was gentle when he set you down as soon as you arrived.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it.", there it was again, his sweet smile. "You should go take a bath before you get sick. I'll lend you some of my clothes." Nod.

------

You felt like a new human being after the warm bath. His clothes were also warm and smelled like him. It was oddly comforting. Has he always smelled this good? Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice.

"Oh wow, you look better already.", he grinned.

"Yeah", you cracked a smile back at him, "I do feel a lot better. Thanks a lot."

"Of course! Now, what do you want to eat, you must be starving? How long were you out there anyway?"

"All day actually...", you confessed.

His shocked expression made you giggle as he pushed you into his kitchen.

After a good meal he said you could go sleep in his bed. He'd sleep on the couch tonight. But you stopped him. "I don't want to be alone. Can you sleep with me tonight."

"Sure, I thought you needed some space and didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Can we cuddle too?"

"We can do whatever you need."

That's how you found yourself back in his arms for the nth time today. The atmosphere was calm, as you were exchanging occasional remarks while watching something. You don't know what overcame you, but you just felt so safe and taken care of that you leaned in for a kiss. However, you quickly pulled away when you felt him stiffen up and not kiss you back.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. God, I'm so stupid. You probably hated that. Shit, please don't hate me-"

"No, please calm down, it's alright. It's not that I don't like this. It's just..."

"Just what?"

"You're in a very fragile state right now. I don't want you to do something you might regret."

"But I'm sure, I really want this-"

"Sleep it over. Just one night and if you still feel like it tomorrow I'm down. I'm here for you. We can cuddle all you want, though. I just don't want to take advantage of you."

You shot him your biggest pity pout and when that didn't work you gave in. "Alright, alright, I guessss.", you huffed and fell into his embrace. Both of you didn't talk much after that, there was a bit of tension, but you didn't act on it. When you finally drifted off to sleep it was enveloped in his warmth and smell.

You haven't slept this well in a long time. And you definitely haven't been woken up this nicely in a long time, either.

After such a good night's sleep you didn't expect to wake up to your best friend between your thighs, lapping away at your pussy.

"Hi, good morning", he rasped, morning voice heavy. "You just looked so cute wiggling around in my arms and when I checked you were already so wet down there. Sorry, I couldn't resist.", he said while softly kissing up your thigh.

"It's alright, let me wake up first, though ah-", you couldn't finish your sentence, because your head snapped back with a moan, as he dove back between your legs.

"Sorry, but I need this just as bad as you do. You taste so good. God, I've been missing out on this this whole time? Just lay back and let me take care of you."

You couldn't say no. Not that you were able to say anything at all with his skillful tongue and fingers working your cunt open. He made you a whimpering and sensitive mess in a matter of a few seconds.

"Shit, how are you so good?", you let out a drawn-out moan, but didn't get an answer from him. His actions spoke instead of him, as he had you cumming on his tongue soon after. Once he licked you clean he slotted his body between your legs and kissed you nice and deep.

"Mmh", you moaned against his lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.

"Tastes good, right?", he grinned.

"Shut up", you playfully hit his chest, grinnig right back at him.

"Alright, my turn.", you smiled, trying to get him to lie down only to be pushed back, as he got on top of you again.

"Nope."

"Hey! Not fair, I wanna taste you, too.", you pouted at him.

"Maybe next time. Today's all about you, I don't want you to lift a single finger. As I said, lay back and let me take care of you."

That was an offer you definitely couldn't refuse. So you gave him a nod and waited for his next move. His next move was a very welcome one, as he finally rid him himself of his shirt. You always knew he was well built from years in the gym and other sports. But seeing him like that up close made you gush. His front was mouth watering, and his arms were to die for. He was huge. You would've rubbed your legs together to ease your pain if he wasn't keeping your legs open with his body between them. You didn't even notice you were staring until he spoke up.

"You're practically drooling."

"Fuck, sorry.", you shrieked looking away.

"Don't sweat it. Oogle me all you want, I dig it.", he smiled, pulling your face back in his direction.

"Can I touch you?"

"What kind of question is that? Go for it!"

His skin's so soft, but the ripples of his abs and chest are brick hard. He let you explore his body before grabbing your hand and giving it a gentle kiss.

"My turn.", he whispered against your fingers before pulling your shirt up and exposing your tits. Your nipples were already hard from all of the stimulation earlier.

"Fuck, they're so pretty.", he whispered, grabbing one in each hand and giving them a hard squeeze.

"Shit.", you moaned, back arching off the bed and pussy rubbing against his hard cock. To make matters worse, he leaned down, licking a thick stripe up your neck and pinching your aching nipples between his fingers.

"Off. Now.", he demanded, already helping you pull the shirt over your head. You were finally fully exposed and he ate it right up. He leaned back down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and massaging your other breast. He made sure to pay equal attention to both. It felt really good, but you were getting impatient, already grinding against his hard crotch.

"Yuuji~~", you moaned at a particularly hard suck. "Don't tease. Pleasee, I need you.", you whined.

"Shit, sorry I got distracted. Wait here, I'm gonna go get the condoms."

Before he could leave you, you stopped him.

"No, wait, please don't. I want to feel you.", you said, already digging your nails in his arms at the mere thought of doing it raw.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive.", you smiled reassuringly.

"Fuck, alright. Got it.", he swore and rid himself of his boxers.

Once again you were staring. He was bigger than you thought. You definitely couldn't wait any longer. You needed him inside of you immediately.

He didn't make you wait long before he started to slowly bottom out. Your moans grew embarassingly louder with each inch that filled you up.

"Shit, you're so tight. Please loosen up, you're gonna kill me."

"Sorry, it just feels so good.", you mewled back arching and pressing your soft tits against his hard chest. "Kiss me, please~~" He immediately obliged, crashing his mouth against yours. It was so raw and messy when your tongues kept mashing together, but it just felt so right.

"I'm gonna start moving now. I'm gonna fuck you so good."

You nodded and pleaded. Your wish was his command, so he finally picked up his pace. And god, was he good with his hips. With each thrust and shift of your legs, he kept hitting you deeper and deeper until you practically saw stars. It's so cliché, but you felt like you were in heaven.

Your nails kept grazing his broad back and shoulders, but you didn't want to hurt him, so you held back. As if he had read your mind, he leaned down and whispered against your ear.

"Do it. Mark me up, it doesn't hurt. Please don't hold back."

So you didn't hold back anymore. You let your emotions run wild, exploring his body with your hands. Shyness long forgotten, as you left long red streaks all over his back, occasionally pulling him down for a kiss.

The world stood still. You never noticed before, but he has always been there for you. He was the only person that you ever felt loved by. How had you never noticed. Even if you two never said it out loud before, you loved each other. It had to be love. You felt overwhealmed as his fingers slipped between your bodies and started rubbing thick circles in your sensitive clit. Your breath hitched as the words you kept secret for far too long came tumbling out.

"I love you, Yuji. I love you so much, thank you for always taking care of me. I only have you in my life. Thank you, thank you, thank you so much. Please never leave me, I need you."

If he was taken aback by your words, he didn't show it. He just pressed his lips against yours and kept rubbing and moving his hips until you came undone. And as you were moaning and arching your back, he finally answered.

"I love you, too. So, so much. I always have. I promise I will never leave. No matter what happens, I got you. Forever.", that's when the dams broke down and tears were spilling from your eyes. You just hugged him close and thanked him.

Not long after, he was reaching his limit as well. So he hoisted your legs over his shoulders and pounded away until he filled you up to the brim. All the while he was kissing your tears away and saying how good you were for him and how well you did.

When his hips finally came to a halt, he gently put your legs down and kissed you again. He was gentle when he pulled out and you winced as you felt his cum drip out of you and onto his sheets.

Immediately after, he pulled you close, hugging you like he was about to lose you and you were able to calm down a bit. But the bad thoughts came back as you whispered against his skin.

"Today was so stressful and you must've been worried sick. What if I have another breakdown. I don't want to be a burden. I don't want to stress you out. I don't want to break your heart if anything happens to me."

"Y/N, look at me.", he begged, hands on your cheeks.

You finally looked back up at him, tears stinging your eyes.

"You're not a burden.", he whispered, giving your forehead a gentle kiss. "I will protect you forever. For as long as I live, I will always be here to catch you. No matter what happens. You're not alone anymore. You don't have to endure everything silently and on your own. I promise, things will get better. I will be here each step of the way. I love you so much, so please don't leave me."

You wanted to believe him, you wanted to get better. Maybe you finally could with his help. It's a big gamble, but you're gonna bet all of your cards on this relationship. After a long pause, you gave him a silent nod and burried your face in his chest, all while he was gently patting and kissing your head.

Life and everyone else might be shit, but at least you got him now. He was worth living for.

--------

If you read this far, thank you so much<3 I hope I can make some lighter and happier content soon, but I'm on a roll right now *sigh* Please stay healthy and look after yourselves, mwah

Hope to see you all very soon<3

[sigma-alpha-writer-chad]

Grow Up, Would You? [Josh Washington]

“I don’t know if you’ve changed any since middle school but I really hope you’ve learned the difference between pranking somebody and just being a fucking bully.”

You can also find this story on Ao3!

Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six

[CHAPTER FIVE]

"Chris, you are... not good at this," Josh says, holding a 4 of diamonds in his hand. "This is, like, the third time you've gotten my card wrong."

"I'd be better if I wasn't drunk off my ass," Chris defends, smacking the deck of cards on the counter. I say nothing, too busy trying to calm my laughter and holding on to Matt for balance. Laughing, himself, he holds my forearms to keep me steady.

Although they'd left us for a while, Matt and Mike eventually migrated back into the kitchen at the sound of the laughter. I was shocked that Emily wasn't wrapped around Mike like she usually was, but no one would ever hear me complain or even acknowledge her absence.

"I don't think we've ever actually spent much time together," Matt says, straightening up as he wiped a tear from his eye. "You're cool. I'm sorry for maybe seeing kind of, standoffish, earlier...?" He rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Oh, no," I giggle. "It's awkward meeting new people, I get it. Thank you, though." I knew Matt was more meek than the others, but I didn't realize he was a sweetheart. Mike pats me on the back.

"She's maaad cool," he confirms. By the way his words merge together I can tell he's drunk. "I've never gotten to talk to her thoughhh, Emily think she wants me or whatever."

"Emily thinks everyone wants you," Josh snorts. Mike gasps, placing his hands over his torso dramatically.

"Don't they?" I cringe. Josh taps the counter loudly, drawing our attention to the lineup of shots.

"What are the, uh," Chris starts, looking into his shot as he tries to find the words he needs. "The girls! Sam, Jess, and Emily, the twins, what're they doing?" he asks.

"Some skin routine, or something. Jess brought an entire kit," Mike sighs. "I'm pretty bummed out that she said girls only, that stuff is fire." We all clink our glasses together and take the shots, Matt shaking his head violently after he swallowed.

"Goddamn, shit is nasty," he hissed, scrunching up his face. Everyone else can't help but laugh, though I can feel my face starting to burn. It could be nothing or anything, but in the past I've learned that sometimes it means I just need some air.

"I'm gonna go get some air," I say, hiking my thumb behind me towards the back balcony.

"Gonna hurl?" Josh asks, that stupid grin on his stupid face.

"No, just need some air." I walk out the door and outside. Shit. I forgot my coat. I decide against going inside - it would be embarrassing if they realized. The night was going so well, I didn't want them to watch me take the walk of shame to grab my winter garments.

I clear off a part of the railing and lean against it, shivering and holding myself. The icy air did it's job quickly in cooling my skin and opening my lungs. Despite my shivering, I took slow, deep breaths until I hear the door opening and closing behind me.

"Hey," I greet, not turning around.

"Cold?" I chew on my cheek as Josh leans next to me, holding one of his thick coats in his hands.

"Freezing," I admit, laughing. Josh says nothing, instead gently placing his coat over my shoulders. Holy fuck it was warm. Despite my reservations I quickly put it on and zip it closed, letting out a heavy sigh of relief. "Oh, wow, thank you. It's so warm." Josh laughs loudly and leans again on the railing next to me, our shoulders a hair apart.

"I have it hanging next to the fireplace," he explains. I look up at him through my lashes, and he looks down at me. "So, always nice and toasty... like a Hot Pocket." I look back out across the snowy forest in a failed attempt to hide the smile from my face. I don't know why I thought it was funny - because it wasn't.

I've always hated that Josh was able to make me smile, even when he was at his worst bullying me. If he was making jokes nearby, I was the one nearly bursting a blood vessel trying not to laugh. I know he sees me, though, because he had a twinkle in his eye and a gentle grin of his own.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks me, tilting his head in an attempt to be on my level.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I reply, surprised he was asking. "I just need a break sometimes." I pause. "Thanks for checking."

"Alright, girl, well," he starts, leaning against me for a second. He's so warm I almost ask him to stay there. I knew at that thought that I should start drinking less vodka and more water. "I'll give you your... your alone time."

"Thank you, Josh." I say. He pauses, and suddenly there's much more hesitance to leave. I wonder why. Is it that I said his name? "Are you okay?" he takes a deep inhale.

"Yeah," he starts, though I'm immediately not convinced. "I just need a little space, sometimes, too." There's another pause. He's still leaning against me, our shoulders pressed together. For a millisecond I can feel my head move to lean on his shoulder and I freeze. Josh opens his mouth again, hesitating to speak. "I don't know how I'm feeling about Mike, lately."

"Mike?" I repeat. He nods, taking another deep breath.

"Hannah's got a thing for him," Josh states. He's looking across the forest with his eyebrows furrowed. "And he keeps playing with her feelings, I think."

"You think?" He nods again.

"He hasn't - he won't reject her. He knows how she feels about him and he just let's her. I think he digs the attention or something, but it's pissing me off. I tried to tell Hannah he wasn't into her, but -" he cuts himself off and shakes his head. I can tell he's getting angry at just the thought of the subject. "But she just won't listen. How can a girl so smart not see what he's doing?"

"I don't know," I murmur. I wasn't sure what to say, or how to comfort him. "She asked me about him, earlier." Josh looks at me as he waits for me to continue. "Asked what I thought about him. I just said he wasn't my type, he's got a girlfriend, whatever."

"Oh, well, what is your type?" He smirks. I roll my eyes and lean hard against him as he laughs at me.

"I think she knows Mike doesn't feel the same," I say. "She just doesn't care."

"The land of delusion," Josh huffs before looking at me. "Wanting somebody you can't have, well... I guess that sort of runs in the family." I side eye him and my heart rate picks up.

"Sam?" I gulp. Josh bursts out in laughter.

"Oh, Jordan," he starts, rubbing his eyes. "You kill me."

"I'm funny, I know," I grin. We make eye contact again and the pressure of his shoulder against mine increases as he leans further into me before, finally, pulling away. The absence of his warmth is immediate and I frown.

"I'm just worried about Hannah, is all," he clarifies, suddenly. "I'll see you back inside."

"See you." I smile, softly, and listen as the door opens. Instead of closing, though, I hear gentle conversation and a 'she wants some alone time right now, man.' I turn around to see Mike trying to go to the balcony with me, Joshua blocking his way. They continue to bicker, but I can't hear anything else until Mike notices me watching.

"Hey, Jordan, just thought we could get to know each other better without Emily bitching you out!" He calls. I frown and look at Josh, who is staring at the back of Mike's head so intensely I half expected to see smoke start rising from his dark hair.

"You talk about your girlfriend weird," I blurt out. I look around me as if Emily would descend upon us at any moment and exact her wrath. "Don't you like her or something?" Mike laughs and shakes his head, finally pushing past Josh, who stumbles a few feet back.

"Of course I do," he says, placing both hands on my shoulders. I tense up immediately and make an attempt to gently shrug him off, but he just tightens his grip slightly. "But sometimes she tries to keep me from making new friends, or trying to strengthen already existing relationships. You understand, right? Jealous girlfriend things."

"I'm about to go inside," I gulp. I want his hands off of me now. I don't hate Mike, but the discomfort was incredible. "Just go on in and wait for me."

"Oh, come on, let's -"

"She said she's going inside." Josh butts in. I furrow my eyebrows and Mike finally lets me go. My feelings are complicated, both appreciation and annoyance swirling in my chest. Appreciation for the defense, and annoyance for not letting me handle it myself.

The appreciation wins over.

I pull the coat up over my cold nose and look between Josh and Mike. It's now, as Mike holds his hands up in defeat and he and Josh bicker, that I realize Josh's coat smelled so good. Did he smell this good? My drunken mind considers getting really close to Josh to find out.

It smells like pine, firewood, and cologne. I was almost sure though that the pine and firewood was from the cologne itself. I close my eyes. The scent was comforting and made me feel warmer.

My serenity is interrupted by Mike slamming the lodge door behind him as he finally relented and went inside. I jump, startled, and slip, falling flat on my back. There was enough snow that it didn't hurt, but I wasn't happy. I can hear Josh laughing.

"I'm going to try to help you up," he says through giggles. I start to sit up, slowly, and he offers is hand. I take it, and smile mischievously. "What're you-" I pull him down into the snow with me, doing my best evil laugh as I stand up. Josh rolls around, trying to get a grip on his surroundings, and he grabs my leg and pulls me back down on top of him.

I land on his chest and he lets out a huff, the air from his lungs being knocked out of him. As I try to get up, he wraps his arms around me and doesn't let go.

"Hey, hey! Release me, wench!" I yell. I try to sound serious, but I'm giggling and beaming.

"No can do, lady. Feel the wrath of Mr. Winter!" He rolls over so that I'm sunken into the pile of snow that had accumulated at the edge of the balcony. It reaches just over my ears.

And he's on top of me, his hands now on my hips and holding me down, his knee resting between mine. I'm shaking, but not from the cold anymore.

"Comfy?" He asks, moving his hands from me to hold himself up.

"Five stars," I sigh, rolling my eyes. I wish I wasn't smiling. I wish my heart wasn't pounding. "Can I get up now?"

"I don't know, all this alcohol and being wasted shit has made me tired," he yawns. His breath smells like booze and breath mints he'd been popping all night. He moves slowly, as if giving me an opportunity to stop him, and lays fully on top of me. "I'm going to sleep." Instead of shoving him off and screaming, like a part of me tells me to, I let him. His breath is warm on my neck as he fake-snores loudly. I shudder.

"Okay pal, get off me before somebody comes out here and sees this."

"Embarrassed?" Josh laughs breathily, his warm breath continuing to send chills through my body.

"Nervous."

"I make you nervous?" He sits himself back up again, that dumb smile back on his face. I try to think about the terrible things he'd done to me in our elementary and middle school times, but I can't seem to be upset at him no matter how much I try. I'm feeling something different for him. Not disdain or annoyance or the usual hatred.

It's something different.

"Yes." I relent. "And you do smell good."

"What?" I laugh out loud in embarrassment and disbelief at myself.

"I've had too much to drink," I sigh. I smile at Josh, and he smiles back, but he appears nervous and his eyes can't reach mine. He chews his lip as he starts to get up. I almost frown as he does, the warmth and weight of his body was comforting. He reached out his hand, again, and this time I take it.

"Let's go back inside," he mumbles, brushing the snow off of me. I smile as he does. "Okay?

"Okay."

----------

I sit at the counter of the bar, resting my chin on the palm of my right hand. On the other side stood Josh. He has a cocktail shaker in his hands, shaking it like a professional bartender would.

"Another water for the fair young lady?" He asks, taking my glass and filling it with the clear liquid, adding as much dramatic flair as he could.

"Oh, yes, m'dear, thank you," I hum. Chris and everyone else had headed to bed long ago, leaving Josh and I alone in the kitchen, the both of us deciding to be mostly sober before even going to bed. Josh slides the water to me and winks. I laugh, then snap my mouth shut.

"What is it?" He asks, tilting his head and leaning over the counter.

"I..." I start to laugh, moving my arm to hide my face. "I sound so, so drunk." Josh laughs at me before pushing the glass of water to me again.

"Drink up, madam," he says. I grab the glass, slowly sliding it towards me as Josh and I lock eyes. I raise an eyebrow and bring the water to my lips, downing it quickly like a massive shot.

"I'd like another, please. And make that a double."

"As you wish," he laughs. He gives me water in a much bigger glass, not bothering with the theatrics this time as he gets himself a drink as well. Instead of walking around the bar to sit, he stays opposite of me and leaning over the counter. I take a sip from the cup. I can feel myself growing more sober as time passes, but not by much. "How're you feeling?" I tilt my head in thought. I wondered for just a moment if I should be honest with him.

"I'm feeling good," I admit, smiling to myself. I can feel him watching me. "I'm..." I swallow, a bit nervous. "I'm glad I came. Thank you for tolerating me." My eyes move to his. The kitchen was completely dark save for a single light above the stove. For a moment I think he almost looks handsome in this lighting.

I must be wasted.

"I should say the same," Josh sighs, looking away from me. He's staring at the counter now. "I know I'm not... Your favorite." He starts, inhaling deeply. "But you've been showing up, anyways, for Chris and... And my sisters. I love Chris, and I love my sisters, more than anything, y'know? So... If they call you friend, you..." His eyes meet mine for not even a second, seemingly too nervous to meet my eyes. "You let me know if you need anything and I'll try to help you out, alright?" My eyes are watering. Why are my eyes watering? Why is he saying this to me.

"...okay," I croak. I can barely get the words out of my throat. "Thank you." I gulp down the rest of my water in an attempt to snuff out the fire burning in my chest. The air becomes heavy and thick with awkward tension. I wonder if he can hear my heart pounding.

"Do you want to put on a movie?" Josh asks, snapping me out of my fog.

"Uhm, sure. What are you thinking?"

"I've got Scream," he grins. "Do you like scary movies?" I roll my eyes, but I can't hide the smile growing on my face. "Ahh, there it is," Josh says gently, his voice low. My face feels like its set on fire.

"Is the couch fine?!" I gasp, standing up quickly and stumbling backwards. Josh laughs and asks if I'm okay, but I ignore him and scurry to the couch. Above the fireplace was a massive television. Josh turns it on and flips through channels to his own recording of Scream. I can't help but laugh.

"You recorded Scream?"

"Hey, man, don't be a hater," Josh sighs. As the movie starts he takes his seat. I'm at one end of the couch, and he's at the other. As we watch the movie, I take suspicious glances every now and then at Josh. Sometimes, I look at him and he's fully turned to look at me.

"Is there something on my face?" I ask when I catch him again. He shakes his head.

"No, I just want to see your reactions to the movie," he admitted. He's sounding less sober and more tired. As I look back towards the TV I can feel the sofa move as he moves towards me.

"I've seen this before," I whisper.

"Say what?" Josh scoots closer again so he can hear me. When I look at him again the movie starts to disappear. I don't know what I'm thinking.

I scoot closer to him.

"I said I've seen this movie before," I repeat, slightly louder. Josh is staring at me now without hesitation. I can tell he's tired, yet he has no issue with keeping his eyes on me. He looks like a puppy dog, pleading for any sort of attention.

"Oh, have you?" He says. This time, he's whispering, yet he's close enough that I can hear him just fine. I only realize, now, that our knees our touching, exactly as they did at the pizza bar. My heart rate picks up as Josh scans every detail of my face.

"Mhm," I hum. I look at his lips. They look soft. My hand twitches as I resist the urge to reach up and brush my thumb across his lip. How much have I had to drink?

"Jordan..." He starts, leaning in.

"Josh?" I gulp, looking back into his eyes.

Green eyes.

His hand slowly moves itself to my forearm.

"I am..." He laughs softly. "I think I have to be wasted." His hand slowly moves up my arm and to my shoulder but he doesn't stop. He brushes his thumb across my collarbone before he gently settles his hand gently at the side of my neck.

"Me, too," I whisper. Josh parts his lips and slowly moves closer to me, his thumb brushing my jawline. Is he going to kiss me? Holy shit. Is Joshua Washington going to kiss me? My heart pounds and I worry for a moment that I'm about to die. My chest is going to burst open at any second now.

"So we should stop," I say breathlessly, my hands quickly moving to his chest. It was surprisingly solid. My heart is twisted harshly, my chest so tight it felt as if my ribs would shatter at any moment. I half expect him to call me ugly, to scoff and roll his eyes, tell me it was just a joke.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he closes his eyes and rests his forehead against my own.

"I'm sorry, Jordan, I don't know what came over me," he spoke softly, just above a whisper. His hand doesn't leave it's place on my skin, and for some unspeakable reason I don't mind it. "Can I just... I'm... I don't know. Things feel fine with you," he admits, whispering as if I'll break if he speaks too loud. "Can we just stay like this for a while?" I nod, closing my own eyes as he rests his head on my shoulder. My hands move to his head as if on instinct, one hand brushing his hair softly and the other tracing circles on his back. He slowly wraps his arms around me in a loose hug, his weight pushing me backwards as he fell deeper into sleep.

Instead of laying back, myself, I slowly guided his head to my lap, where I continued to run my fingers through his hair.

"Chris would go insane if he saw this," I chuckle, a small smile on my face.

"You drive me insane," Josh mumbles something I can barely catch.

"Says you, Mr. Locker-Rats," I scoff. He smiles at the nickname.

"That's such a stupid name," he laughs. He takes a deep breath and his smile falters. Thank you, Jordan," he sighs, turning over into his side. "I really needed this."

"Hm?"

"I need this..." Josh says as he drifts off to sleep.

I'm sober now.

I know I'll remember this. I'll remember this for the rest of my life. The fragile body of my worst enemy left open and vulnerable to me like no one else had ever been, his head in my lap, with what felt like his soul held in my very hands. I felt as if one wrong move would break him.

Would he remember? Will he still be so kind, so gentle when everyone else can see him be kind to me?

I didn't think so. I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth. Despite my reservations I continue to slowly pet his thick, soft hair. It's now, as I look down at him sleeping, that I start to realize that maybe I don't hate him anymore.

Maybe we could be some sort of friends.

I smile to myself and sigh, leaning back against the couch. I swear right then that I wouldn't fall asleep. Once the movie was over, I would go to my own room to spare Josh and I the embarrassment of being found in such a comfortable position with each other.

"You've changed," I murmur. "I think I like it." He says nothing. As the movie goes on, I watch his body rise and fall with his steady breathing. He'd been good to me today.

As the credits roll, I gently slide out from under him and replace my lap with a pillow under Josh's head. He doesn't move, and I lay a nearby throw blanket over him. I contemplate removing his boots, but decide against it to avoid waking him up. As I crouch down to his level, I take a moment to examine his face.

I hate to admit it, I do, but he looked serene. I thought to myself that maybe it was time to admit that he was physically appealing. I felt a safety and comfort around Josh, now, that I'd never felt before. Why? Is he really that different? Does he really care about me?

Or are we both drunk?

I chew on my lip as I stare at him. I don't know what's happening to me, I don't know what's come over me, but I run my fingers through his hair one more time as I place a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. He shifts, and for a split second I think I see him trying to hold back a smile. I squint, but he doesn't move again. I sigh.

"Goodnight, Joshua."

--------------

Hey y'all! Thank you so much for your patience. This chapter did not want to work with me and kept not saving progress made and I kept having to re write it. I believe this chapter is a bit longer than normal, so I hope that makes up for it! The next one will be longer, too. I love talking to everybody, so thank you all so much for the kind comments, they make me so happy. Much love!!

Also: Accidentally posted this early, so some may be seeing this a second time. If that's you, this is the FINISHED chapter! Thank you.

❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @sc4rrc @mattymxmo @cellyx33 @jenepleurepasbaby @kalynnjonas @spinback-kiva @frankcastlesvest @barnxsromanxff

[charminglilly]

A Quiet Pouring

Ellie Williams x fem!reader

Summary: A cozy rainy day with Ellie filled with nostalgia and kisses

a/n: helllppp this is my first time actually posting one my of works to tumblr... also not proof read at all bc I'm lazy! 😋  Enjoy

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Now playing: Video games By Lana Del Ray

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You and Ellie were sitting cuddled up under a soft weighted blanket as a movie played in the background. You were more focused on watching the rain droplets hit the window and trickle down, racing each other till the bottom.

“Babe, this is the good part, focus.” Ellie said, grabbing your cheeks and gently turning your head to face the tv before returning to her position on your chest. You chuckled and ran a hand through her auburn tangles.

“Els, look, it's raining.” You said back, raising a hand to point at the window. Ellie spared the window a glance before sighing and turning to face you

“Yeah? So? What's the big deal, we weren’t planning on going out today” the freckled girl replied, sounding a little more irritated. You just sighed and slipped out from under her while she watched curiously on what the big deal was? You reached for the remote and paused the tv before turning back to Ellie.

“C’mon Elsss,” You said, pulling her up from the comfy couch.

“Hey! I was watching that!” Ellie protested and leaned away, trying to resist your pulling. Finally, you gave one last tug and pulled her up so that you were standing face to face with her. Quickly, before you lost your chance, you led Ellie to the front door and slipped on your shoes. Ellie quickly followed you and put on her beaten up converse that had definitely seen better days. You reached for the door knob and pulled it open before stepping out into the cold misty air. Ellie grabbed an umbrella and followed you.

“Babe, you forgot your umbrella and jacket.” She said handing you an umbrella but you continued walking to the street, ignoring her advances.

“Don’t need one, trust me babe,” Ellie just rolled her eyes and placed the umbrella on the floor and closed the front door, following close behind you. As the two of you walked towards the street the misty humid air twirled around your feet, creating an art piece beneath you two. 

You didn’t know why rainy days felt so special, so nostalgic. You grew up in the countryside where you would run outside with your siblings into the pouring rain. Joining the neighborhood kids, all of you would dance around like drunkies and jump in the puddles, drenching your shoes and pants in muddy water which your parents would only shake their heads in response to by the end of the day. But now that you are older and everyone has moved out of your little town in hopes of creating their own life and beginnings, you continue to hold the rainy day traditions close to your heart, that includes sharing them with Ellie.

Once you and Ellie reached the middle of the street, you came to a halt causing Ellie to crash into you, but you couldn’t be any more than unbothered. She watched you with judging eyes as you took in a deep breath of the cool air as it filled your lungs with a pinch of pain. With the seasons changing it would've been a good choice to wear a light jacket, but since both you and Ellie are irresponsible, you both seemed to have forgotten.

“Brrr, it’s fucking cold. How are you not freezing your ass off right now?” Ellie said as she wrapped her arms around herself, hoping the stubborn bumps on her pale arms would go away. You just chuckled in response and turned to face her. The rain seemed to pour harder as you looked into her piercing forest green eyes. She looked back at you with a glint in her eyes. You studied each freckle on her face, counting them one by one

1

2

3

4

5678…

Ah forget it

You studied the slope of her nose, the way it perfectly came to a bump at the end and the scar on her eyebrow. Who knows how she got it, with Ellie being Ellie, it could have been from just sitting down. You were the first to move, taking a small step forward. Ellie seemed to get the hint, taking her own step forward and releasing her arms, instead she placed them on the curve of your hips. You slowly traced your hands up Ellie's arms and came to a stop on her neck. She pulled you impossibly closer before she dipped her head into the crook of your neck. Her wet hair smelled of wet dog mixed with her perfume, a weird yet comforting smell that filled your nose. You wrapped your arms around her neck and she moved her hands to the small of your back.

“I love you,” the pale girl whispered into your ear, placing a few kissed below your earlobe. Chuckling, you replied,

“I love you more.” Ellie quickly began placing delicate kisses along your neck, ghosting it ever so slightly causing you to shiver and laugh harder. You felt Ellie’s lips curl into a smile as she reached your jawline. It was silent for a few moments, the only sounds being the rain hitting the concrete road and Ellie's lips hitting your neck. Despite the silence, there was no reason for words, the air felt filled enough with the meaning behind every touch you and Ellie left behind. She soon reached your lips and kissed the corner of your mouth before pulling away to look into your eyes.

“Hey, you missed.” You claimed, pouting your lips a little. Ellie only chuckled before leaning closer and placing a proper kiss to your lips. The kiss started out slow, just the feeling on Ellie's chapped lips on top of your more soft lips. Your bodies pressed impossibly closer as the kiss grew more passionate. There was nothing sexual behind it, only the love you two shared for each other. You parted your lips, as Ellie slipped her tongue into your mouth. Your two breaths become one and the feeling of Ellie’s heartbeat against your chest lit something inside you. For the next few minutes, the only sounds that were heard was the teeth clashing between you and Ellie, then obviously the pitter patter of the rain surrounding the two. Ellie was the first to pull away, you chased her lips for a second longer, not wanting the moment to pass just yet, but soon pulled your head away. Ellie tried to catch her breath before bursting into chuckles.

“What!?” You said, raising your voice to be heard over the rain.

“We look so stupid standing out in the pouring rain and making out!” Ellie replied back, laughing even more. Her laugh never failed to make you laugh along with her, no matter the situation.

“No it’s not stupid, it's romantic. Have you ever watched a rom-com?”

“Of course I have, but only because you make me watch them! Now come on, let's go inside before we catch a cold.” Ellie said, pulling away and intertwining her hands with yours, leading you back up the driveway and to the front door. All you could do was sigh and follow her lead.

“You're no fun” You said, like a child who was denied a sweet at the candy store. Ellie only chuckled in response. She didn’t want to admit it, but she loved this moment, she loved it when you did the most out of pocket things because it made you happy. And seeing you happy made Ellie feel full of love.

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Idk how to end this so thats it, thanks for reading!!

[sethsclearwater]

synopsis: based on this request from @raxwrites where paul imprints on reader but she’s already in a (very shitty) relationship. paul convinces her to spend one night with him and reader realizes just how quickly he’s making her fall for him.

warnings: smut, dom!paul, sub!reader, cheating(?) (on a shitty guy lol)

word count: 5.49k

…

you and leah had been friends since childhood. you two were more or less attached at the hip and it was one of the many reasons why leah had decided to fuck with sam’s head and tell you about the shapeshifters. fortunately for everyone, you had taken the news quite well and actually found the whole thing rather funny considering how annoyed you had the opportunity to watch sam get when he heard she broke the news. 

shortly after the news broke, embry had made an off-handed joke about you being paul’s imprint - yet another thing you were unfamiliar with. despite the death stare embry got from paul after saying that, he stumbled out some half-assed explanation of it which left you more confused about the whole thing than ever. 

after both leah and embry had given you the world’s vaguest explanation of it, you had decided to just drop it and go back to focusing on the fact that leah and her entire “friend group” were a bunch of massive wolves. 

all of this led to today where you and your boyfriend were in a heated argument over his night out with a girl who he had repeatedly told you not to worry about. “for fuck’s sake josh! what part of you two spending the night together was platonic?” you yelled, angry tears streaming down your cheeks as you got up from your spot at the kitchen table to find your keys and phone. 

you two had been going at it for over 2 hours now and were making absolutely no progress so you figured now was as good a time as any to get the hell out of your apartment. 

“we literally didn’t do anything! i don’t get why you have to make such a big deal out of everything! you seriously need to work on your jealousy issues because you sound crazy right now!” your boyfriend yelled back, making sure his voice was louder than yours in some weak attempt to assert his dominance over you.

at the use of the word ‘jealousy’ you decided this was it and grabbed your phone and keys before quickly getting out of the apartment, sprinting down the steps to your car despite the sub-freezing, snowy conditions currently happening all around you.

as you turned the ignition on and began pulling out of your parking spot, you could faintly make out josh at the top of the steps yelling some slew of obscenities at you. you ignored him, using the back of your hand to wipe the tears off your cheeks before you were driving over to emily young’s house where leah supposedly was according to her last text a few hours prior.

after hearing that your boyfriend decided to spend the night with another girl (who he adamantly claimed was just a friend), leah let you know that she’d be over at emily’s for most of the day if you needed her or a place to stay for the night while you cooled off.

the drive over to emily’s was only about 10 minutes but ended up taking nearly double that thanks to the snow-covered roads. as you pulled into her driveway and quickly got out of your car, you neglected to realize that the only car in her driveway was one of the boy’s. 

in your haste, you ran up to the door, knocking rather hard when you finally felt the chill from the 20-degree temperatures outside. it didn’t take more than a few seconds for the door to open and reveal paul lahote.

he looked just as confused as you imagined you must’ve but you couldn’t have really cared less, just desperate to get out of the cold at this point, “where’s leah?” you asked with a sniffle as you pushed past him to get into the warmth of emily’s house.

paul stepped back, quickly shutting the door behind him to keep the heat in, “she’s on patrol- or work, fuck, work-” he stumbled out, watching your crying figure as you kicked your shoes off and tossed your keys and phone onto the entryway bench. 

“are you okay?” he asked after a moment, his voice softening as you slumped down in one of the kitchen chairs with another round of tears rolling down your cheeks. you’d seen paul on occasion, mostly in group settings with the rest of the pack but he did drive you home a few times when it was too rainy or snowy for you to walk back so you weren’t total strangers.

you paused at his question, looking up at him pleadingly with tears rapidly streaming down your cheeks. you imagined you must’ve looked like a hot mess. you’d gotten out of the shower just before your boyfriend arrived home so you hadn’t had time to do anything with your hair and were only wearing a pair of old sweatpants and some oversized t-shirt you’d pulled out of the back of your closet.

“do i look okay?” you asked, letting out a weak laugh as you reached your hands up to palm away the tears that couldn’t seem to stop streaming down your cheeks. paul frowned, watching you carefully as he pulled out the chair next to you, slowly sliding down into it as he tried to figure out what on earth to do with you.

“sorry,” paul mumbled after a moment, “he didn’t hit you, did he?” he asked, voice hesitating for a moment before he ended his question, clearly unsure if he was overstepping or not by prying into your personal life despite how little the two of you knew each other. 

you let out another breathy laugh at his concern, shaking your head with a sniffle, “jus’ cheated on me,” you managed to get out, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as you pulled your legs up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them, still not meeting paul’s gaze. 

every ounce of dignity you had was just shredded thanks to the current state you found yourself in but paul didn’t seem to mind your emotions too much, “you wanna talk about it?” he asked softly, his frown deepening when yet another round of tears came spilling over your waterline and down your cheeks. 

shaking your head, you finally worked up the nerve to peek up and meet his gaze for a moment, “not really no,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper, “i hate that fucker,” you added after a moment, both you and paul letting out quiet laughs at your comment.

“can’t say i like him too much either,” paul reassured, cracking the tiniest bit of a smile which had you letting out a heavy sigh of relief. something in you just felt unbelievably better knowing that someone was able to sympathize with your pain.

“you want some water?” he asked after a moment, offering you a small smile when you nodded. while you attempted to dry your cheeks of your tears, paul got up and quickly got you a glass of water to stop you from crying even more and hopefully lessen the severity of the headache both of you knew you’d be getting in a few short hours.

he handed you the glass, your fingers brushing for just a moment too long, “thank you,” you whispered, taking the glass and sipping on it to give yourself a moment to shake the insatiable feelings you were now realizing you’d definitely been having for the poor boy for months now. 

paul gave your upper arm a gentle squeeze before he was grabbing his phone, “you wanna sit down in the living room? emily’s got the pullout couch in there if you wanna get some sleep,” he asked as he quickly responded to whatever text he had just gotten a few moments prior. you thought about his proposition for a moment before humming and nodding.

“with you?” you asked, raising your eyebrows at him as you looked up at him, your small smile coming in stark contrast to you puffy, tear-stained cheeks.

paul rolled his eyes, “won’t make it weird,” he reassured, “just don’t want you getting all worked up again,” he added, and this time you rolled your eyes, hardly able to contain the small smile on your face as you got up and made the incredibly short trek into the living room. 

while you grabbed your phone to see if leah had responded to any of your texts, paul got the pullout set up so the two of you could sit down there and hopefully just throw on a movie or something, “emily said leah is gonna be back in a few hours,” paul broke the silence with after a few moments as if he’d read your mind or something. 

you hummed and nodded, smiling softly when he offered you his hand so he could help you onto the makeshift bed. your hand slid into his as you got into the pullout, pausing for a moment when he slid his hand onto your lower back to help steady you. 

paul noticed your pause, gently squeezing your hand when you peeked over your shoulder to look at him, “everything okay?” he asked, watching as you finally allowed yourself to actually look at him.

your boyfriend or ex or whatever the hell he was must’ve clouded your vision way more than you thought because you’d never really paid any attention to paul or the way he looked at you before. but today, you finally saw how he’d been watching you this whole time, something much softer in his gaze than anything you’d ever seen with your boyfriend.

you’d never seen a man look at you like that before and weren’t looking to lose it anytime soon. before your mind could catch up to what your heart was planning, you were tightening your grip in his hand to pull him closer to you and smashing your lips against his.

paul must’ve seen it coming from a mile away because he didn’t waste any time before he was melting into you, untangling his hand from yours so he could slide both hands down to your hips and pull you closer to him. 

your hands were on his chest, desperately running them down until you found the hem of his t-shirt so you could slide your hands underneath, “fuck,” paul groaned against your lips when he felt the way your palms flattened out against the expanse of his abdomen, your hands sliding up his chest so you could tug his t-shirt up.

paul already understood what you meant, parting his lips from yours for a moment much to your dismay. he let out a breathy laugh as he pulled his shirt up and over his head when he saw the pout that had quickly formed on your face, “c’mere,” he murmured as soon as he had tossed the shirt to the side, sliding his hands back down to your hips so he could pull you closer to him and press his lips against yours again. 

his fingers toyed with the thin material of your t-shirt, “can i take this off?” he murmured against your lips, letting out a breathy laugh when you quickly nodded pulling back so he could help you take your shirt off. 

in your haste getting out of the shower earlier, you’d apparently neglected to put a bra on which left your bare chest exposed to him. paul sucked in a sharp breath when he saw the way your nipples were already hardening as they were exposed to the cool air, “fuck me,” paul groaned, “lay down-” paul ordered, not giving you a moment to process what he was saying before he was manhandling you down onto the squeaky pullout mattress, conveniently wedging himself in between your legs so he could have better access to you.

he didn’t waste any time, latching his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud while he massaged your other boob with his hand. “paul-” his name fell off your lips so easily, moaning and whining as he rolled your nipple between his finger and just barely grazed his teeth over the other one, “paul please-” you whimpered, desperately reaching down to pull him up so you could touch him in all the ways your body was begging you to.

“‘s wrong?” he asked with a breathy laugh, already knowing you were definitely more than okay but the sudden whining from you had him a little bit concerned he was being too rough with you.

you just shook your head, desperately reaching down to his sweatpants, “i need you-” was all you were able to make out as you dipped your hand below his waistline, immediately wrapping your hand around his now fully hardened cock. 

paul dropped his head against your collarbone and let out a low groan when he felt your fingers wrap around his length.  “i’ll fuck you in a minute,” he reassured, sliding his non-supporting hand over yours to gently pry it off of him so he could finish prepping you for him.

you let out a disgruntled sigh which had paul laughing again, shaking his head, “you got it,” he mused, dropping down to press a soft kiss to your lips. you were happily reciprocating the action against his lips, running your fingers up his chest so you could snake them around his neck and knot in his inky hair to pull him closer to you.

paul was all too aware of just how you needed him, making quick work of sliding his hands down to dip below your sweatpants, toying with the thin material of your panties for a moment, the frustration leaving you whining against paul’s lips.

he paid little mind to your whines, taking his time dancing his fingers along the outline of your panties, barely brushing his fingers over your covered clit, chuckling to himself when he heard the mewling that left your lips at the sensation, “paul-” you whimpered, tightening your fingers against his hair so you could hold him closer to you.

paul allowed you to hold him close, pressing his lips to your neck, “‘m comin’” he reassured, dipping his fingers below your panties so he could swipe them through your slick folds. you were muffling your whines against the crook of his neck, untangling your fingers from his hair so you could wrap your arms around his neck, a rather loud moan leaving your lips when he finally pressed down on your clit.

“there you go,” he murmured against your neck, slowly circling his pointer finger around your little entrance while his thumb continued to toy with the sensitive bundle of nerves between your thighs, “breathe princess,” paul reminded as he lifted his head from your neck so he could get a better look at you, hardly containing his laugh when he heard just how fast your heart was beating from your lack of oxygen.

you nodded, sucking in a deep breath as you ran your fingers across his shoulders, dancing them along his chest while paul allowed you a moment to catch your breath, “there you go,” he mused, slowly dipping his pointer finger into your canal, the muscles immediately fluttering around him as you took the intrusion. 

“deep breaths for me princess,” paul murmured as he began curling and uncurling his finger inside you, working at stretching you out for his cock, “such a good job,” he cooed as he watched the way you followed his instructions, your little whines and moans as he continued to toy with your clit letting him know all he needed to know.

once he felt your walls beginning to relax around his finger, he slowly added a second finger to your channel, dropping his head down to press a soft kiss to your lips when he heard the low whine you let out at the stretch, “breathe princess,” paul reminded, his lips leaving yours for only a moment before he was melting into you again, slowly scissoring his fingers as he stretched you out. his thumb gently rolled your clit, the pleasure and paul’s lips against yours serving as a pleasant distraction from the stretching. 

once he’d decided you were no longer tense, he began curling his fingers inside your delicate walls, smiling to himself when he felt the spongey tissue of your g-spot, the sudden hitch in your breathing followed by a low moan letting him know he definitely needed to continue the action. 

he continued curling his fingers against the sensitive tissue, parting his lips from yours to pepper your neck and shoulders with delicate kisses. as soon as he felt your walls beginning to tighten around his fingers, he began working at marking up your collarbone.

“paul-” you whined, flattening your palms against his biceps, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as your head dropped back into the pillows as you felt the coil in your belly beginning to tighten. you had never cum with your ex before, always finding yourself needing to take care of yourself on your own time because he couldn’t be bothered with it. so paul managing to have you nearly cumming on his fingers within just a few minutes was forcing you to rethink why the hell you hadn’t gotten with him sooner. 

“cum on my fingers princess,” paul murmured against your collarbone, continuing his steady pace as he stroked your g-spot and rolled your clit.

you whimpered, desperately working to meet your orgasm and come undone on your imprinter’s fingers, “nice and easy,” he murmured when he felt your walls tightening around his fingers, well aware of just how close you were to cumming, “there you go kitten, let go for me,” he encouraged, keeping all of his actions steady, his words sending you right over the edge as you finally complied and let go.

your orgasm washed over you, your walls desperately throbbing around paul’s fingers while he continued to lighten his touches, helping you work through it without overstimulating you too much. you were sucking in heavy lungfuls of air, eyes fluttering open as you worked at getting your heart rate down to a reasonable bpm. 

you wrapped your splayed palms around paul’s shoulders to pull him down for a tight hug. a soft laugh left his lips at your action, slowly pulling his fingers out of your soaked channel, “deep breaths princess,” he cooed, pressing his lips to your hairline while he allowed you a few more moments to compose yourself. 

“there you go,” he chuckled when he finally heard your breathing and heart rate even out to a reasonable level, “you think you can take my cock?” he asked as you loosened your grip on him a bit, allowing him to lift his head so he could get a better look at your expression.

you nodded, “please,” you whispered, running your hands across his shoulders and biceps before sliding them down his chest, looking down to the ever-prominent tent in his pants from you. your cheeks were heating up to a bright pink when you realized what an effect you were having on him, quickly lifting your gaze away from the bulge to look back up at him.

paul chuckled, “i’m all yours,” he reassured, failing to hide his smirk when he saw how flustered you got at the thought of him being yours. you’d been so oblivious to him for over a year now, too invested in your own problems to ever realize just how he looked at you or see how he always managed to be there for you at the perfect time. 

you slowly nodded as you processed his words, blushing an even deeper red when he got out from in between your thighs to get up and tug his sweatpants down. his hardened cock was quick to stand at attention, the tip a fierce red with droplets of precum pooling.

paul smirked again when he saw the way you were staring at his cock, leaning down to hook his fingers around your sweatpants and panties to he could tug them down and toss them to the side as well, “all mine?” you asked after a moment, finally pulling your gaze from his cock to look up at him.

“all yours,” paul confirmed as he got back on the pullout, “get on your hands and knees for me, yea? gonna show you who you belong to,” he added, barely holding back his laugh when he saw how flustered you continued to get every time he spoke to you. 

as you processed his words, paul slid his hands down to your hips so he could help you get onto your hands and knees, the poor pullout bed making all sorts of pathetic squeaks as it desperately tried to stay up while you and paul fucked. 

“such a good girl,” paul praised once you were settled on your forearms and knees, one of his hands remaining on your hip to steady you while he spit into the other one, quickly spreading the saliva across his cock to help lubricate him so you wouldn’t have too much difficulty taking his length. 

paul was by far the largest man you’d ever been with, something paul had managed to figure out by himself when he felt just how tight you were clamped down on his fingers a few minutes prior, “deep breath for me princess,” paul ordered as he slid his hand in between your thighs, dipping his finger into your channel for just a moment to make sure you were still ready to take him before he was pulling it out and replacing it with the tip of his cock.

at the feeling of his cock prodding at your entrance, you reminded yourself to breathe, letting out a slow exhale, and relaxed your hips so paul could pull you back onto his cock, “so fuckin’ pretty,” paul groaned, both hands tightly gripping your hips as he tugged your hips back to impale you on his cock, “keep breathing princess,” he reminded, keeping a firm grip on your hips as he felt the way your walls were desperately working to accommodate the intrusion that was your imprinter.

you were whining, resting your forehead against your hands as you tried to relax yourself enough to make room for paul, “‘s really big paul-” you whimpered, moving to pull your hips forward but paul’s hands remained firm.

“breathe princess,” paul reminded, “i’ve got you, yea? not gonna hurt you, just need to stretch you out on me, okay?” he added, gently rubbing his thumbs in circles against the fatty flesh of your hips.

you slowly nodded, peeking over your shoulder to look up at him, immediately feeling way better when you saw how confident he looked in his promise, “you want me to hold you? might help you feel better,” he suggested, smiling when you quickly nodded.

“c’mere,” he cooed, sliding his hands down to your ribs, slowly pulling you up. as he helped you up, his cock pushed further into your channel, “you’re okay,” he reassured when he heard your whining. he wrapped his arm around you, coming to rest just under your breasts as he pulled you up so your back was flush with his chest.

“just a little more,” he murmured, wrapping his other arm around your abdomen so he could hold you steady as he pushed himself the rest of the way into you, “such a good girl,” he mused, pressing his lips to your head when he felt you finally relax into his arms, allowing your head to rest against the crook of his neck.

while he allowed you a few moments to process the feeling, he pressed gentle kisses to your hairline, murmuring quiet praises. once your walls stopped desperately clenching around him, relaxing just enough to accommodate him comfortably, you were letting out a soft sigh, lifting your head up to peek over your shoulder up at him, “feels okay?” he asked, pressing his lips to your temple when you hummed and nodded.

“that’s my girl,” he praised, muffling his chuckle against your hair when he felt your walls flutter around him at the praise, your heart skipping a few beats as you processed just what you were doing with him. you nuzzled your nose into the crook of his neck in a weak attempt to hide your blush from him, your hands hooking around his forearm to hold yourself steady.

paul decided against teasing you about it, suddenly becoming much more aware of just how badly he wanted to cum inside you when he felt your walls clenching down around him, “you let me know if you want me to slow down, okay?” he asked, waiting for you to nod before he was drawing his hips back, his cock dragging along your walls in the most delicious way possible before he was plunging himself back inside you, not wasting a moment before he was setting a rough pace, one hand holding you up while the other held your hips in place so he could snap his against yours.

you let out a loud whine at the first thrust, dropping your head back against his shoulder again, eyes closing as pleasure began flooding through your system yet again, “just needed my cock in you didn’t you?” he asked with a chuckle when he saw the way you were desperately nodding, loving how much pleasure you were so easily able to provide each other.

he slid one hand down to your abdomen, splaying his palm across the smooth skin so he could keep you steady but also drop his thumb down to toy with your clit. “oh my god-” you whimpered when you felt the pleasure coursing up your spine, forcing your brain into a fuzzy mess as you tried to comprehend all the sensations and emotions spilling through you.

“my cock feel that good? makin’ you feel better, isn’t it?” he gritted out, his thrusts getting rougher when he saw just how quickly you were coming undone on him. he held you up, supporting you as he continued to fuck you as you desperately nodded.

“so good-” you whimpered, “all yours,” you added softly, just loud enough for paul to pick up on it. hearing you admit he owned you just as much as you did him snapped something inside him, suddenly every fiber of his being telling him to make sure everyone knew you were his.

“this pussy is all mine, yea? all mine,” paul repeated, his grip around your chest tightening when he felt the way your walls were suddenly desperately fluttering and clenching around him, both of your emotions going haywire at the connection.

you hummed, squeezing your hands around his forearms in a weak attempt to stabilize yourself, “not giving it to anyone else, you understand? you’re mine now,” paul ordered, pinching your clit between his fingers when he realized you weren’t responding to him. 

a loud moan escaped your lips at the sudden jolt, “not giving it to anyone else-” you breathlessly repeated back, able to form a somewhat coherent response by some grace of god. you weren’t used to being made such a mess from a cock, desperately trying and failing to keep some shred of control as paul continued his ruthless thrusts. 

“that’s what i thought,” paul pushed his hips into yours, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix to send his point home, the action taking away any control you might’ve had as you fully surrendered in his arms, trusting him to support you, “gonna fill you up so everyone knows just who owns you and you’re gonna take it all like a good girl, aren’t you?” he asked, his rhetorical question sending your brain into a tizzy as you desperately nodded, not trusting yourself to form a coherent response.

paul let out a dark laugh when he saw your nod, your approval being all he needed to pick up the pace until he had your breasts bouncing atop his forearms with each thrust, your moans and heavy breaths filling the silence of emily’s living room as your orgasm rapidly began approaching.

“paul i’m gonna-” you started, gasping when he rolled your clit between his fingers, the action having you dangerously close to cumming without his approval and, based on how dominant he had been with you tonight, you’d imagined he wouldn’t take too kindly to you cumming before he let you.

“such a good girl,” paul praised, “make a mess on my cock for me,” he added, rubbing circles against your clit while his cock continued to stretch you out with each thrust, the small bulge in your belly with each snap of his hips sending him over the edge at the same time as you.

the knot in your belly snapped as paul shot his release into your walls, both of you holding each other as tight as you could as you rode your highs. paul’s thrusts stuttered as his cum spilled into you, the feeling of your walls throbbing around him as you came having him pushing his hips as close to yours as he could, “paul-” you whined when you felt the way the tip of his cock was prodding against your overstimulated cervix. 

“not yet-” he responded breathlessly, “let me fill you up,” he added, holding you close to him as he spilled his release in you. you nodded, relaxing back into him as you came down from your high, both of your breathing heavy and ragged as you came back down to earth. 

you gently squeezed paul’s forearms, lolling your head to the side so you could nuzzle your nose against his collarbone, “there you go,” paul murmured after a few moments, slowly loosening his grip on you so he could pull his cock back enough so he wasn’t overstimulating you to the point of annoyance, “you’re staying here for the night, yea?” he asked, pressing his lips to your hair as he waited for your response.

you let out a soft laugh and nodded, “you can have me in the morning if you want,” you added teasingly, squealing when paul snapped his hips back against yours at the comment, a lewd squelching sound from all the fluids pooling between your thighs. 

“i’ll be holding you to that,” paul agreed, giving you one more squeeze before he was slowly letting you go and pulling himself out of you so he could get you cleaned up. as he helped you lay down on the couch, you intertwined your fingers with his hand, tugging him down so he could lay next to you.

paul complied, allowing you to pull him close to you, “still gonna have to clean you up in a minute,” paul reminded, opening his arms so you could get between them wrapping them around you to hold you close once you got settled. 

“just wanna lay with you for a minute,” you whispered, tossing your leg over his hip to hold him even closer to you as paul got a blanket over your naked figures. your comment had his heart doing all sorts of things he’d never felt before so he settled for just pressing his lips to the crown of your head while you cuddled up with him.

before paul’s mind could get the best of him, you peeked up at him, “i’ll break up with him,” you reassured, smiling when paul let out a heavy sigh of relief, nodding. 

you snuck a quick kiss against his lips, smiling when you saw how flustered you managed to make him over the action, quickly burying your face in the crook of his neck so you could get comfortable and allow him a moment to get it together.

paul gently ran his hand up and down your side, holding you close to him as the two of you just soaked each other in. before he could come up with a response to your promise, he heard your breathing begin to even out, quickly realizing you’d definitely fallen asleep in his arms.

“just a few minutes,” he mumbled to himself, holding you close as he also let the fatigue take over him as well.

bonus: leah, emily, and some of the boys coming back to find reader and paul’s clothes thrown all over the house with the two of them passed out on the pull out couch - all of them can’t stop laughing about it and never let reader and paul live it down.

[mysouleaten]

DOC AND BOSS pt.one

mafia boss! izana x doctor! reader

summary ... finding an injured member of the tenjiku yakuza hiding in an alleyway beside your apartment you decide to help... not knowing he's the one in charge..

warnings ... blood, and bullets??

an ... sooo this was inspired by DEAD GIRL'S BEACH by @kokoch4n3l but this fic is a lot more fluff... lol and inspired by an undertake fic I read a long time ago Bedside Manners and Guns by @absurdmageart .... :)

tenjiku was one of the biggest yakuza's that ran tokyo they were second compared to toman

but still one of the biggest when it came to land and property and one of their properties was your apartment-- your home

most who lived in this apartment building paid their bill to tenjiku, as they were the ones who kept this building from being destroyed by the government and leading to you being homeless

you were very grateful for the fact they protected this apartment building... it was the cheapest and the closest to your job and university

around 8:45pm you finally were able to leave your job and drive back in the rainy night, ready to get in your comfort outfit and watch crime moves for the rest of the night and maybe order some yellow rice and soup to eat while you watch....

finally parked in front of your building and looking outside the window to see the harsh rain pouring down

you can only imagine how cold it is outside your warm car...

looking behind your driver's seat and reaching for your umbrella to fight back the pouring rain from soaking you

"alright.. let's just hope I don't get completely soaked through.."

quickly opening the car door and rushing to open the umbrella over you, shutting the door and pressing onto your car key to hear the 'beep!' of the car locking

blowing a breath you start to carefully walk towards the stairs that lead to your apartment, careful not to slip and bust your ass on the pavement

hearing a loud groan made you freeze in place and hearing another over the rushing rain made you tense again before you quickly walked up the stairs and ran into your apartment... you weren't risking any horror movie shenanigans..

putting your bag down onto the bench under your coat hanger

turning your head toward the door and the guilty conscience starts to eat you up

what if someone was in need of help? you're not a doctor for nothing..

you groan in annoyance and throw your white coat on the floor before taking the raincoat hanging on the coat hanger and quickly putting it on

slamming the door behind yourself and cussing out: "I hate being a damn doctor..!"

hugging your wait to fight the cold rain and carefully walking down the stairs

"hopefully it's just the fucking wind and no one is actually here so I can go take my ass upstairs and--" cutting your rant short when turning the corner and seeing someone laying on the muddy ground

drenched and shivering the person was also groaning in pain

"crap.." you whisper and slowly begin to walk toward the person still being cautious and mindful of who this person you were going to help was

crouching down, careful to not touch the muddy water below

examing the man who was shakily breathing through his mouth and scrunching his eyes shut

his white long hair was muddied up and drenched

you looked down to see him holding his abdomen--blood was soaking his uniform, he was wearing the uniform of a tenjiku leader... craaaaaap...

pulling your phone out of your pocket and covering it from the rain you dial the number but a hand quickly grabs your wrist and tries to shake the phone out of your hand "ACK!!"

quickly standing up and backing away, letting your phone drop near the man

his eyes were a beautiful shade of lavender and they were staring daggers right into your own eyes.. but they softened quickly

you swallow the built-up saliva in your mouth "you've been shot.. you need to go to the hospital" your voice a soft whisper

he shakes his head "no..." no? this man really wants a painful death?

"you-" "you..help me" the man cuts you off

"what!? wait- no! I can't! I don't have the-" your rambling gets cut off with a soft "try" from the man

were you really going to drag a muddy wet mafia man up the stairs and into your apartment?..

you sigh as the man has been staring at you for the past couple of minutes after his 'removing bullets' procedure

he was lying on his back with towels beneath him soaking up the dirty water that dripped off of him, bandages wrapped around his entire abdomen and he was facing his head toward you

he would shiver from the cold and you weren't sure if you wanted to get him a blanket.. and get it soaked.. maybe you should towel him off properly before getting him a blanket

you stood up and began to walk away from the white-haired man that occupied your other couch..

"[name]?... where are you going?.."

you froze, how the hell does he know your name?..

ughhhh i'm not sure how i like this... AHH I WISH I KNEW HOW TO WRITE MY THOUGHTS BETTER....

>:(

[steddieas-shegoes]

come together

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'together'

all of my holiday drabbles will be from the bear hugs universe. many of them could probably be read standalone, but will make the most sense and be enjoyed best if you read that first!

rated e | 784 words | cw: elizabeth is back for a minute | tags: established relationship, blowjobs, handjobs, implied anal sex

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

Steve’s mouth is busy when the doorbell rings.

Worse yet, it’s busy in a way that it hasn’t been in nearly a week and he needs this.

Eddie tugs on his hair to pull him off his cock.

“C’mon, let me see who it is,” he leans down to kiss the corner of Steve’s mouth and somehow manages to tuck his leaking cock into his pants. Steve whines. “I’ll just be a second.”

Steve waits on his knees in their bedroom, hard and desperate to be full, in any way at all. He considers shoving his fingers in his ass to dull the ache, when Eddie comes rushing back into the room.

His face is beet red and he’s shaking.

Steve is immediately on his feet. “Is Rory okay?”

“Rory’s fine. As far as I know,” Eddie says as he throws a shirt on.

“Then what’s wrong?” Steve follows him, throwing the first shirt he sees on. It’s probably not his considering he never put one on after his workout.

“Your ex-wife is here.”

Steve freezes. She hasn’t been to this house since…well, since she signed over her rights as Rory’s other parent so Eddie could adopt her.

That was three years ago.

“Why the hell is she here? Did you open the door? Is she inside?” Steve doesn’t know what this could be about, but he’s not happy about the interruption no matter what.

“She’s standing outside. I saw it was her and came back,” Eddie pulls Steve to him and kisses the top of his head. “You want me to leave or stay?”

“Stay. Whatever she has to say can be said in front of you.”

They both walk to the front door, but Eddie hangs back, lets Steve lead this interaction.

“Elizabeth.” Steve’s voice is flat. “You still have my number, right?”

“I do,” she nods.

“Oh good. So you chose not to use it to let me know you were coming by?”

Eddie absolutely loves when Steve doesn’t hold back on his bitchiness. He has to remind himself that getting hard again right now would be a distraction he can’t afford to have.

It’s not that he really cares what Elizabeth thinks of him. He just doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she’s ruined his day.

“I was in the area and wanted to get this checked off my list,” she explains. “May I come in?”

“Do you need to?”

God, Eddie is actually going to sink to his knees. Steve is so hot when he gets like this.

“I wanted to discuss Rory’s trust fund.”

Eddie’s heart stops. When Elizabeth signed her rights away, she agreed that Rory would get to keep her trust fund, and she would continue to put money into her college fund until she turned 18. It’s not that Rory needs them, but it would be shitty of her to retract those promises now.

“If you don’t want her to have it, then-”

“No. I wanted to let you know I’m getting a divorce and my accountant has recommended I transfer it to you until she’s 21.”

Steve does well holding back his shock at her announcement, but Eddie knows he doesn’t hide it. His jaw is practically on the floor.

“He can’t take the trust fund,” Steve states.

“No, but any assets I have possession of will be included in the settlement. I don’t want it as a factor in the alimony.”

Eddie’s eyes are like saucers.

“Alimony? Did you cheat?”

“The man is old. I wasn’t getting what I needed. It’s not like he never cheated.”

Eddie is so glad Steve got away from her quickly.

“Right. Well, send me the paperwork and I’ll have my lawyer look it over. Thanks for stopping by.”

He slams the door and locks it, and Eddie is on him before he even hears footsteps walking away. He pushes Steve against the door and pulls his pants down fast enough that it nearly makes Steve fall forward.

“Jesus, Eds.”

“You are so fucking hot. Please let me fuck you,” Eddie begs.

“Here?” Steve laughs.

“Right here. Don’t even care if she hears.”

Steve smirks and pulls his shirt off– Eddie’s pajama shirt– and leans back against the door.

“Better get to it, then.”

“Wait,” Eddie pauses and uses his brain for a second. “I’m like, really close. I’m not gonna make it through opening you up.”

Steve laughs, and it may sound mean, but Eddie shivers.

Eddie’s pants are dropped almost as quickly as Steve’s were and Steve’s hand is wrapped around them both before Eddie can even offer to help.

“We’ll come together now, but you’re fucking me against this door after.”

[emmyrosee]

this is an actual thing that happened to me and my poor friend like, an hour ago lmao

——

It’s been raining for three weeks straight.

On the list of things that make Katsuki angry, rain is high, high up on that list, above most people and most things. Rain feels useless to Katsuki, does nothing but make things wet and gross, and he’ll never forgive the rain for drowning his plants as a kid.

Rain makes him a certain degree of agitated.

You, on the other hand?

“Baby, look! It’s raining!” You beam.

You like it. Freak.

The forecast had no called for rain, nor had his phone given any warnings, but as he paid the bill for lunch, seemingly as soon as the waiter took his card, the rain poured to godlike fury.

Phenomenal.

There’s nothing he loves more on his one Saturday off a month than sprinting through monsoon season in worn down sneakers and your feet padding behind him. There’s nothing he finds more euphoria in than opening the passenger side door for you and feeling the squish of a puddle in his shoe.

And he absolutely, completely, totally understands how on the gods’ decaying, rotten earth, why you enjoy this so much.

At this point, all Katsuki wanted to do was go home, curl up in a ball with you close by and nap all the frustration and cold rain away for the next few hours-

“LOOK OUT!” You scream, and instantly, Katsuki slams on his brakes, nearly flinging you both out the window. His face paled in panic before coming back in a complete anger.

“What the fuck was that!”

“Look!” You whimper, pointing out past the windshield with a worried pout. He squints as best as he can past the pouring rain, to no avail. You groan next to him and quickly leap out of the car to chase whatever you seem to see, making him snarl a firm ‘GET BACK HERE,’ through his teeth. You put your hands on your knees as you look down at the pavement, and he looks around for a oncoming car that you seem to ignore remembering that you’re in the middle of the goddamned road.

“Are you fucking insane?!” He snaps, opening his own car door and getting out to chase you. “You’re going to get sick, and I’m not going to take care of you.”

You pout up at him before fixing your gaze back down at the road, “you were gonna hit him.”

“Hit who?”

“The turtle,” you whine, fixing the hood of Katsuki’s sweater on your head to keep the rain off your face. With a furrowed brow, Katsuki does finally look down to see a small turtle settled in the road, blinking its slimy eyes softly as if half exasperated as Katsuki is.

He sighs in exhaustion, “you made me get out of my car, in the pouring rain, bordering fucking hail, to look at a snapping turtle?” His hands smack his face and scrub it in frustration, “this can’t be my life. There no way.”

“Can we save him?” You ask quietly, clearly very upset by the idea of this little creature being squashed.

“How do you- what- NO!” He snaps, mercilessly. You whimper softly before falling to your knees, water squishing under the bones. He’s got to admit, you do look very sad, but it’s 45 degrees outside and holy crap he’s gonna freeze out here and it’s your fault.

He hears you sigh from under his hoodie, and you reach out to touch the small turtle, only retracting your hand when it lurches out to snap at you.

“See? Why do you want to save this little shit?”

You scoff, “he’s just scared, it’s not his fault.”

“Yeah, snap at you again and I’ll give him something to be scared about.”

This, you give him a small laugh at, and he does sobsr up slightly. Your head turns up to look at him, rain hitting your face and lip still in a small pout. “Please, help me save him, Katsuki?”

Fucking god.

He growls softly, “how do you want me to save him? He’s a snapping turtle, can’t just lift his ass up.” You gnaw softly at your lip before looking back at the small turtle now receding into its shell in fright.

Then, you brighten, “just go home and get a shovel!”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not fucking going home, digging a shovel out of the garage, coming back and moving a turtle six feet to the other side of the road. You’re insane- he’ll be fucking fine, babe, let’s just go home.”

“I don’t want to leave him,” you say softly. “I’ll stay here, and if he moves, I’ll call you and walk home-“

“Are you fucking high? I’m not leaving you here, dumbass.”

Looking back up at him, you give him a cocky shrug, “guess you’re picking up the turtle with your hands.”

He could throttle you. Right here, in the middle of the road, right now.

With his patience running thin, and clothes soaked and heavy, he snarls softly before stomping back to the car, whipping out a small blanket he usually keeps for you when you fall asleep. He wraps it in his hands before stepping back over to you and the turtle, scooping the small reptile in his hands and grumbling as he walks it over to the sidewalk, placing blanket and all on the concrete. The turtle squirms and writhes, but once it’s placed on the sidewalk, it quickly scuttles into the mud and grass and far from the road. In the background, you’re cheering and clapping your wet hands, and he’s choosing to ignore you.

He grits his teeth and turns to you, “car. Now.”

“What about the blanket-“

“Car. Now.”

You’re still smiling as you round back to the passenger side of the car, and he hates knowing that you know he’s not completely mad, more talk than anything else.

Little rat.

He get into the driver side of the car and blasts the heat in a meek attempt to get warm, his temples pounding and heart more than ready to just get the hell home.

But his thoughts come to a halt when your arms toss around his shoulders over the center console and kiss all along his neck and cheek and temple.

“My hero,” you coo, pecking softly. “Saving everyone and everything for me. You’re the best ever. My handsome and brave hero.”

“Sit down,” he grumbles, trying to fight the warmth in his face. You ignore him, continuing to hum out praises and loving words as he drives you both home, knowing full well that you both know he’s weak to your pleas and requests and it’s going to be far from the last time he does something like this for you.

Freak.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + sixteen

authors note: healing is not linear. regression, sadly, is a part of the process. and ultimately, if someone wants to hurt themselves, they will find a way to do so.

*this chapter contains extremely triggering content. please ensure to read all content/trigger warnings to make an informed decision regarding your mental state and ability to consume the following work of fiction. your mental wellbeing is forever and always more important than any story.*

cw/tw: heavy angst, violence, torture, ptsd episode, victim blaming, reference to childhood sexual assault, thoughts and urges of self-harm, suicide attempt

gentle reminder that you can call or text the free, confidential 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline at 988 anytime, 24/7.

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist

words: 8k

“I–I just want to see him. Please—”

It’s got to be the third or even fourth time she’s tried to ask, pleading with her husband’s Wise Man to let her see her husband.

It was hard enough to get Solo to agree to take her to where Roman is, a medical clinic that’s clearly only open to tend to him and any other Bloodline member injured in the shootout. That’s evident by the lack of anyone present outside of an impressive number of Bloodline security. 

An uninjured Bayley and Naomi met her at the house shortly after she arrived with Solo, and while she was pleased to see they were okay, to hear that Jimmy and Jey also made it out uninjured, the man she cares about the most is ironically the man she seems incapable of checking on.

She can’t find a way to settle her anxiety, continuing to play the scene of him shot, outside of her head. 

That’s why she needs to see him. 

She has to see him.

Paul sighs, and there’s irritation evident both in his tone and facial expression. “Solana, I don’t think—hey!”

Fuck it.

He’s silenced by Solana rushing past him, nearly knocking him over in the process. Eyes wide with shock, he stammers, looking just as bewildered as the security guards around him. “Well, don’t just stand there, stop her!”

The men rush to run after her, Solana well aware of the fact that the likelihood of her outrunning them is slim to none. 

Doesn't mean she can’t try. 

It’s a silly thought though because of course security would be up and down every hall of the clinic, sets of hardened eyes falling on her, ready to attack when they realize who she is. It changes the dynamic a bit. Expressions still stoic and lethal but also confused.

Solana freezes only for a bit as she forces out her request, a poorly delivered demand, really to the guards that line the hall that she suspects house the room Roman is being treated in. 

“I need to see my husband.” No one says anything, two of them sharing an expression as Solana decides to try her luck again, knowing that they wouldn’t actually shoot her, trying to sprint past them.

She’s unlucky this time though because one of the guards catches her, restraining her. This makes her tense up almost immediately, fear rising up yet again for the thousandth time tonight. 

“Let go of me!” Solana tries to wiggle her way out of the iron grasp, eager and almost needing to get these strange male hands off of her, such a stark contrast to the comfort and safety she feels when it’s Roman who has his hands on her. “I need to see Roman! Please!” 

The man holding her and probably pulling her away from the direction of Roman’s room says nothing, just continues to ignore her demands to be released.

“Man, what the hell you doing!”

Solana’s head snaps to the side as she lays eyes on an enraged Jimmy who stalks over, his mere presence and tone causing the man to release her. Solana gasps a bit as Jimmy grabs the man by his collar and slams him against the wall. “Don’t you ever put your fucking hands on her again! You lucky it’s me here and not Roman cause he’d already have a bullet in your head for touching his wife!”

Jimmy looks around, shouting, “that goes to all of ya’ll asses!” He points to Solana. “She asks for Roman, you take her to fucking Roman, alright?”

Bowed heads of shame and a sudden focus on the laminate flooring of the clinic, Solana is relieved when Jimmy walks over, voice calmer, motioning her to follow him. “Come on, Soso.”

Solana wants to ask Jimmy if he’s okay, inquire about Jey, make sure that they’re okay. Bayley and Naomi already told her as such, but they don’t know that. It’s just what’s most polite and appropriate, but all she can think about is Roman and laying eyes on him.

She needs to see him.

And as awful as it may sound, she cares more about making sure her husband is okay before anyone else.

Caught up in her thoughts, she misses when Jimmy knocks on a door in a rhythmic pattern, followed by Jey cracking the door open.

Jimmy sucks his teeth. “Man, open the door. It’s Soso.”

Solana, however, has no desire to wait any longer and finds herself, pushing on the door, forcing Jey to stumble back. “Damn, girl!”

She’s not listening though, uninterested in apologizing because she’s focused on something else. 

Focused on someone else. 

An older man with blonde hair pulled back, dressed way too casually to be a medical professional seems to be finishing up bandaging her husband who stands only feet away, shirtless, revealing the shoulder tourniquet that conceals the wound. The place where he was hurt.

Where he was shot.

Emotion renews, and a new set of tears reload as she finds herself moving over to him, pressing her body into his, doing her best to avoid touching his left shoulder. Her eyes shut, tears spilling over when she feels Roman’s hand on the small of her back.

“Get out.” It’s directed to the twins and who Solana would guess is the doctor who treated his wound, that last thing being what causes her to pull away, to look over at the stranger.

“No. You—you have to help him—”

The man chuckles and removes the blue latex gloves from his hands. “Lil lady, that’s a job only the big Man Himself can handle.” She frowns a bit as the man with striking blue eyes and an almost country accent explains, “He’ll be fine. Bullet went straight through. Didn't hit any bones, artery, or organs. If he takes it easy for a couple weeks, he'll be good as new. That’s assuming, however, he actually follows the doctor’s orders for once.”

It’s that last sentence that makes Solana wonder if this is the same doctor who diagnosed Roman with high blood pressure and medicated him for it. It makes sense. 

But, it’s when they’re alone that the waterworks seem to really come out, Solana unable to hold it in any longer. “I’m sorry—this—this is all my fault.” She cries, Roman gently cradling her face as she shakes her head. “You–you got hurt because of m-me-.”

Roman looks thoroughly confused, asking, “what are you talking about?”

There’s such a heaviness in her stomach and on her chest. She doesn’t want to do this. God, she really doesn’t want to. But, it’s her not doing this in the first place that landed them where they are. 

“Roman…..” She closes her eyes. This is so much harder than she thought it would be, and she never thought it would be easy per se, but she also didn’t think it would be this damn painful. “My—my father. He…he wanted our marriage to happen so—so that I—” It’s like knives splitting and slicing the back of her throat as she forces out, “he wanted me to kill you.”

If Roman has a strong or visceral reaction to her dark confession, he doesn’t show it. His expression remains unreadable, maybe a bit of concern, but that was present the minute he laid eyes on her. 

“And he said that if I didn’t do it, then he–he would kill me, and that’s w–why you got hurt tonight, because—because of me, because I didn’t say anything.” A fresh set of tears generate as she desperately tries to help him and make him believe her as she explains, “but, I—I was never going to—I could never—I’d rather die than do anything to h–hurt you.”

And it’s the truth. 

She would have rather him let the bullet hit her than him. 

It’s not fair he had to pay for her actions. Or lack, in this case. 

“Solana.” He cuts her off, gentle, voice much calmer than she anticipated in response to such a confession. “I already knew.”

And just like that, she’s back to not breathing again, rendered nearly incapable of speech as she stammers out a response, “w–what?”

Roman sighs deeply, thumb caressing the apple of her cheek. “I always knew your father was up to something. I’m far from stupid. He was too eager and pushy to make the marriage happen. It was obvious he had ulterior motives.” His eyes squint a bit, as he asks her, “why you think one of the first things I did when we got married was cut off contact between the two of you, huh? Whatever he was planning, I wasn’t gonna let him use you to do it.”

Roman’s words together make a logical, sensical sentence, but it’s the processing of it that she struggles with. Roman knew. He knew all along that her father was planning something. 

And yet he said nothing.

He has no reaction. 

He continues, admitting, “I didn’t know specifically what he had planned, but it doesn’t really make a difference. Murder. Coup d'etat. He wasn't the first, and he won’t be the last.” It’s the casual way he says it that Solana feels so conflicted about, so stunned how he can be so calm about constant threats against his life, against his empire. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot, and it probably won’t be the last time.”

“Don’t say that.” She whispers. The trauma and shock of seeing him shot was bad enough, and seeing he appears okay is relieving, but the thought of it happening again feels almost unbearable.

“Solana, you know what I am and what I do. But, it’s like I told you before, I have a tendency to not die, which pisses people off.” His delivery towards the end manages to make her smile. It’s small and sad, but a smile nonetheless. “There it is….” His thumb brushes away some of her tears. “Don’t cry, baby. You know I don’t like seeing you upset.”

She noticed. The same way she doesn’t like to see him hurt. For him to be anything other than okay. 

Roman’s eyes shift into something softer as he asks, “why didn’t you tell me?” It’s a question born from curiosity versus the accusatory nature she would expect from someone who was just told their wife was sent to kill them. 

It’s a bit of a difficult one to answer too. “I was—I was scared. At the beginning of our marriage, I—I was scared what you would do to me if—if I told you.” 

There’s an almost pained look that flashes across his face as he vows, “Solana, you know I would never—”

“I know. I know that now.” She stresses, gently cutting him off. There’s not a doubt in her mind that Roman would never do anything to intentionally hurt her. “But, I—I didn’t then. And….I think I just—I didn’t want to think about it, because things were going good and—and I hadn’t seen him in so long, but I was wrong—and I should have said something sooner—”

“It doesn’t matter.” He’s the one to cut her off this time, shaking his head. “But Solana, your father has crossed a line this time. He tried to kill you.” Roman’s eyes are blazing with with the flame of anger and fury, a desire for vengeance clearly dancing at the forefront of his mind. “I know I told you I wouldn’t kill him until you told me—”

“I don’t care,” she affirms, voice darkening into something also angry. “He—he tried to take you from me. I don’t—I don’t care what happens to him anymore. Him or Wes.” 

Because while she doesn’t know the status of her brother and his recovery, Wes was just as involved with the evil plan, so what went down tonight had to have some influence from him in one way or another. It makes him just as guilty. 

Roman nods and kisses her temple. He then calls out, “Jey.” It’s loud enough for his cousin to hear, opening the door and asking, “what’s up?”

Roman doesn’t hesitate. “Get me Miller. Just Xavier.” Solana must look curious as he explains, “your brother isn’t well enough yet. I want him back to health, so I can prolong his torture.” It paints a picture of a brutal, gruesome ending, but she can’t find it in her to be repulsed. Whatever hope she had for her brother is clearly long gone, if it was ever there.

“You got it.” Jey nods and closes the door as Solana places her hand on Roman’s forearm, drawing his attention down to her. 

“I—I want to talk to him before—-” She swallows, asking, “please?”

Roman nods. “Of course.” She’s thankful for his agreement but not entirely surprised. He breaks away from her, countenance shifts into something stoic and determined. 

“This ends tonight.” 

________

Solana’s introduction to the place where her husband has probably taken and ended more lives than she’d like to admit is definitely a one and done thing. The atmosphere alone is so dark and depressing that if not for her hand in his and him walking closely alongside her, she might even find herself a bit scared.

But his presence along with her determination to get in her final words to her father manage to carry her over. 

She’s also both surprised and relieved when she sees Bayley and Naomi also present. She’s unable to ask them about their presence because Roman is already explaining, “I know you don’t want to be home alone tonight, and I’m not making it back anytime soon.”

She nods, not needing to know why. The edge in his voice is all the telling she needs.

Solana’s stomach drops a bit when she’s taken to her father, strapped to a chair, hands and wrists tied. His face is bruised up, cut, and bleeding. Her eyes must give away her curiosity, Jimmy answering, “he fell.” 

Jey suddenly punches him in the side of his head. “Ain’t that what you said when you and your boy was beating on your own fucking daughter?”

Solana swallows. Yes. That’s often what he said to cover up the result of their abuse.

Solana drops her hand and steps a bit closer to him, Roman not once moving or ripping his eyes away from them. It’s virtually impossible for Xavier to do anything to her, but she understands her husband is not willing to take any risks, regardless. 

She ignores the weapons and items around her, no doubt intended for unspeakable acts of violence and torture. She just focuses on the man before her, taking in the fact that this is the last time she’ll ever stare into his dark eyes and have to look at his evil face. 

“All—all I ever wanted….was for you to love me.” She hates the emotion that chunks up the back of her throat, making it a bit harder for her to speak. “But you never did, and you never will, and—and that’s okay.” She recalls one of the many powerful, profound quotes from her book, reciting it boldly and confidently. “Your inability to love me is not a reflection on my ability to be loved.” She’d like to say she witnesses some type of emotional reaction in her father at her powerful statement, but there’s nothing there.

There never was. 

Stepping back, she takes one final look at him, accepting this is the end of this road. The end of all the hurt and pain he’s ever caused her. After tonight, it’s all over. “Goodbye, Dad.” 

Solana is back by Roman, taking her hand in his as Xavier’s small, dark laughter draws her attention back to him. 

“Didn’t you ever wonder how they bypassed the security system? Both times?”

Solana’s brows are furrowed, confusion dancing in her eyes. Before she can say anything, Roman barks a rough order to the twins, “gag him!” 

One glance at him, and she sees something unfamiliar, something that looks strangely close to nervousness. 

To fear. 

“No,” she finds herself calling out, stopping Jey who was halfway close to doing just that, bandana in his right hand. “What—what are you talking about?”

“Solana, he’s just trying to fuck with your head.” She hears Roman, feels his slight tug on her sleeve as he tries to pull her away, but she also detects something else.

Avoidance. 

Roman is intentionally trying to divert her away from this conversation, topic, whatever it is.

Xavier chuckles cruelly, coughing up a bit of blood. “I warned that bitch. I told her what would happen if she tried to take Wesley away from me.” 

Now…now he has Solana’s full attention. 

She steps toward him, asking again, “what are you t–talking about?”

“Solana, please—”

But, she continues to ignore Roman and instead focuses on whatever it is her father is about to drop on her, something she feels is about to change everything. 

Xavier’s bloody smile is cruel and taunting as he reveals, “I was the one who ordered the hit on your mother.” And before she can even sit on that, another bomb is dropped. “And you.”

Solana staggers back, jerking away from Roman as he reaches to touch her. Her mouth is dropped, her heartbeat erratic. She all of a sudden feels dizzy, but it doesn’t stop her from asking again, “what—what did you just say?”

“Shut him up, Jey!”

“No!” Solana shouts both at her husband and his cousin. “I want to know!”

“Your mother was planning to take you and Wesley away from me, and truth be told, if she left Wesley and just took you, I probably wouldn’t have given a fuck. But no, she wanted both of her children. She was a problem, so I got rid of her.” Each word that leaves his mouth has Solana wanting to sink further and further into the ground. “The hit was for both of you, but of course, you fucking survived.” The venom in his voice and hatred in his eyes is almost palpable, further deepening the pain of this betrayal. “I refused to pay them the full amount since they botched the job and didn��t kill you, but that still left the balance for your mother….the balance you paid for me.” And with the most vile smile of all, he adds on coarsely, “who’d have thought a kid’s virginity would sell so high?”

And it’s that statement. That cruel, vindictive statement that breaks her.

Hand to her stomach, Solana almost collapses to the floor but Roman is behind her, catching her fall. 

Now that she can focus on him, on anything other than the millions thoughts racing through her mind. Random facts and statements finally coming together, painting a horrific, grim picture.

The failure of the security system both times.

The failed pin entry of her mom’s shaking hands and two years later, Solana’s shaking hand, as they desperately tried to enter the panic room, only for it to flash a red rejection notice.

It was him the whole time.

He killed her mother. He was the one responsible for her rape.

All of it. 

Emotions erupt to the surface as Solana tries to break from Roman’s embrace and lunge for her father.

“I hate you!” She screams, unable to think and see beyond her pain. “I fucking hate you!” She can’t stop trying to break Roman’s solid grip on her. She wants to hit him. Wants to stab him. Burn him. Anything and everything that can make him feel just a fraction of her agony. “How could you do that to me!” She cries, wanting, needing an answer. Needing to know why. “I was a child!” She’s never felt something so heavy, so painful. “I was your child!” 

As her physical resolve breaks, more diminishes than anything, Solana feels Roman trying to guide her away.

But it’s a mistake, it’s a mistake because she uses that slice of an opening to break away from him and snatch one of the guns on a table, pointing it at her father’s head. But then, she’s not. She’s not because Roman is suddenly standing between her and her target.

Her resolve falters for a bit, as she shouts at him, “move!”

Jimmy’s furious voice calls out. “Man, let her do it, Roman!”

Roman’s gaze is fiery as he silences his cousin with a shout. “Shut up!” But just as quickly as he was enraged, his expression softens almost inhumanly quickly as he pleads, “Solana, listen to me—”

She’s not trying to hear it though. She can’t hear it. “He killed my mother! My mother!”

“I know,” his expression softens into something solemn and sympathetic. “But you don’t want to do this—“

She snaps, her fingers on the gun tightening, her grip firm and focused. “He needs to die!”

“And he will, I promise you that. Slowly. Gradually. In the agonizing way that he deserves, but that can only happen if you let me do this for you—”

Solana cries, shoulders dropping but her aim still intact. “He let them rape me.” Her body trembles, a combination of her heartache and inconsolable rage. “He took her from me! She was my mother!”

If not for the severity and all around heightened tensions, Solana would notice the heartbreaking and furious expressions of the twins, Bayely, and Naomi who now know the exact horror she has experienced. The reason for her disposition. The source of her trauma.

Roman, however, remains focused on de-escalating the situation. “I know, baby, but you’re not a killer, Solana, and I’m not about to let you become one.” If she was thinking straight, capable of thinking clearly in this moment, she’d know he’s only protecting her. Only trying to save her from the thing she told him not even a week ago she could never forgive herself for. Taking someone’s life. “Once you do this, there’s no turning back.”

Solana’s eyes shut as another round of tears makes its way to the surface, heavier and harder to manage with the gun in her hand.

Roman notices this and takes a tentative step forward. “Please, Solana.” His tone is almost desperate, borderline begging. “Give me the gun.”

Eyes still closed and with a weakness she hasn’t felt in years, Solana relents, loosening her grip, allowing Roman to take the gun that he quickly hands to Jey. He moves to catch her as she falls into his chest, sobbing again. Roman cradles her head and kisses the top of her hair while Jimmy and Jey move to jump Xavier, taking that opportunity to get blows in on the old man, both careful to avoid any that could be lethal.

It’s obvious this son of a bitch is in line for a world of suffering that will extend far past tonight.

“Oh, we finna take our time killing you, motherfucker.” 

Everything sounds a bit distant. The sound of the twins yelling obscenities at the demon she called a father. Roman trying to comfort her, to settle her. It’s all too much. Too overwhelming. The crying settles into something sullen and solemn, silent tears streaming down her face as she murmurs against him, “I want to go home.”

The emotion is there, but her presence and awareness of everything is diminishing. Solana knows what’s coming, has experienced this state of separation, of dissociating. 

She needs to get away.

Roman says something she can’t make out, and before she realizes it, there’s another set of arms around her. Bayley. Naomi is chatting with Roman, the only thing she’s able to make out, 

‘Don’t leave her alone.’

Alone.

She’s not sure she’s ever felt that as strongly as she does at this moment.

________

It’s all such a blur.

Such a separate thing. Emotions separate from her. Emotions that are dark, heavy, confusing, overwhelming. Fleeting. There’s an oscillation of all the feelings. Tears that accompany heartache. Sobbing that accompanies grief. Nothing that arrives with nothing. 

It’s a brutal, miserable experience of feeling the weight of the world but also the emptiness of the void.

It’s obvious that Naomi and Bayley don’t know how to help her, don’t know how to comfort her, just continue to sit with her, letting her cry when she needs to and scream when she has to. Even Dulce sits by her side, whimpering every so often and licking her.

It’s appreciated. So appreciated. 

But….it’s not enough.

Losing her mother was heartbreaking. Losing her in the way she did, so violently and graphically was torture.

Being held down and gang raped by two grown men at twelve years old nearly killed her. They nearly killed her.

But, there’s something about finding out that her father, her biological father, was responsible for those two things that’s almost impossible to believe.

She knew her father was cruel.

She just didn’t know just how cruel until this very evening. 

Escape.

Her mother was trying to escape, trying to make a better life for herself and her children. And he killed her for it.

Tried to kill Solana too, and when that didn’t work, he traded her virginity in exchange for payment. 

Flashes. Glimpses. Images. 

They’ve been hitting her nonstop since the truth came out. Playing in her mind like some kind of sick horror film. It’s torture. It’s painful. It’s unbearable.

It’s too much. 

She places her hands on the bathroom counter, having finished using the bathroom after waking up yet again from night terrors.

Her eyes shut.

Solana is tired.

So so tired. Tired of the pain. Of the lies. Of the betrayal. Everything hurts. Everything feels so heavy. She tries to escape in sleep, but the memories haunt her and suddenly, she’s reliving it all, but now with the horrific knowledge that the first man who should have ever loved and protected her was responsible for her biggest traumas.

And it’s impossible to escape those flashes, those thoughts and flashbacks becoming more frequent and intrusive by the minute. She’s suffocating.

Drowning in her own head.

Drowning in her own body. 

Solana’s eyes open and fall over to the shower where her razor would have been available if not for her earlier strength and ability to hand it and the brand new box of them over to Bayley and Naomi.

Just an hour or two ago, she was able to do that much. Able to resist that temptation and not break years of sobriety.

But, now…. now she can’t. 

She doesn’t even want to.

That would only provide a temporary escape.

She’s just….just so tired.

She wants….needs something longer.

Something more permanent. 

Unable to escape the mental anguish, Solana leans down and digs through a toiletries bag from the trip she hasn’t unpacked. 

And she pulls out the bottle of sleeping pills. 

Roman’s request from months ago returns, smacking into her. 

“Any of those thoughts come back, you tell me. I don’t care if you have to paint it on the fucking wall. I want to know.” His intense expression is set right on her, needing to make sure she understands what he’s asking of her. “Understand?”

Her eyes water.

Roman….

Even with his lack of being honest with her, of somehow knowing but not telling her the truth, there’s never been a person that she’s loved more than him. Not since her mom.

It’s why she can’t call him. Can’t continue to burden him with having to deal with all her shit.

All she’s done since entering his life is make shit difficult. She’s done it with him. Bayley. Naomi. Jimmy. Jey. 

All of them.

They’ve had to adjust so much just for her, and for what? For her to end up right back where she started?

She can’t….she can’t do that to them again.

She can’t do that to Roman again.

She loves him too much for that, loves him too much to continue to hurt him.

She just….she just needs to remove herself from the equation.

Needs to remove herself from all of their lives. 

Forever. 

Shaking hands twist off the cap as she dumps a handful of pills into her trembling palm.

There’s the briefest second of a delay, a moment where she reconsiders, where she wonders if she’s making the right decision. But another flashback hits her, the feeling of the knife slicing through her mother’s lifeless body and entering Solana ripping her away from that reconsideration.

Another thought of Roman and her friends having to help her yet again.

Save her again.

She can’t do it anymore. She doesn’t want to do it anymore.

There is no saving her anymore.

This is the only way. 

And she swallows, using the water bottle on the counter to force the excessive amount of pills down her throat. A brief glance at her reflection brings on another set of silent tears. Broken. Empty. There’s nothing left for her to do, no reason for her to exist anymore.

Not even bothering to put the pills away, Solana walks out of the bathroom and into the dark bedroom where Bayley is the first to ask, still sitting in the chair in the corner of the room, dedicated to staying awake for her ‘shift’, completely unaware of this being the last time they’ll interact. “Do you need something?”

Solana shakes her head and climbs back onto the bed. Grabbing her phone, ignoring the tears that blur her vision, she types out a simple text to the one person she’ll miss the most. 

She’ll miss them all, but none more than him.

Solana: I’m sorry. 

Sent and delivered, she locks her phone, placing it on the nightstand, closing her eyes. 

Solana just wants to go to sleep.

And this time…..not wake up.

________

Rage. 

Fury.

Wrath.

And any word synonymous to anger, yet none of them adequately describe what’s coursing all throughout Roman’s body. Years. It’s been years since he’s felt this much anger, held so much of it that he has a hard time thinking and feeling.

He’s incapable of escaping the sound of Solana’s sobbing, the way she literally fell apart in front of him, breaking before him.

And it’s all because of the son of a bitch currently underneath him on the receiving end of  devastating blow after blow of Roman’s brass knuckled fists. How long he’s been hitting the old man is beyond him. Not long enough.

It’ll never be long enough.

Never painful enough. 

Not for what he’s done.

A hand on his uninjured shoulder temporarily pulls him away from his newfound life mission to make this piece of shit feel every type of pain imaginable before he takes his last breath. 

Roman’s roar bounces off the walls. “What!”

Jey looks unfazed by Roman’s irate tone and instead advises, “he’s unconscious, Uce. Let up or you gon kill him.”

That’s the fucking goal.

But not yet. Death is too sweet for Xavier to receive at this point.

Huffing and suddenly aware of all the energy expended as well as the blood splattered all over his clothes and face, Roman tosses the knuckles to the side and issues an order to Jey even while walking, refusing to acknowledge any appreciation for his warning, “let me know when Jimmy has them.”

Them.

Them being the two men who have no idea what kind of horror awaits them. Men whose names were tortured out of Xavier pretty easily by Roman.

Rapists.

Solana’s rapists. 

Reaching the locker room  in the back, Roman easily strips himself naked and steps in the shower, allowing the water to rain down his body, red mixing with clear and disappearing down the drain. Hands against the shower wall, he shuts his eyes.

He can’t escape the sound of Solana’s wails. He’s never heard or seen her so upset. Never wanted to. It’s the exact reason he settled on not telling her the truth, because he knew this would happen.

Knew this would destroy her.

It’s just the extent of the destruction that worries him.

Just how far back this has set her that has him feeling something he hasn’t felt in years but has now experienced twice tonight. Once when he saw the hand raised and gun lifted in Solana’s direction and now her breakdown.

Fear.

It has him scared.

And Roman doesn't know what to do with that emotion, doesn’t know how to handle it outside of beating the shit out of and torturing her father and rapists. But even that only does so much.

It doesn’t do enough, because she’s hurting, more than she probably ever has, and he can’t do shit about it.

Because making the fuckers who hurt her suffer doesn’t do shit for the pain she’s experiencing now.

And he hates that shit. Hates that she’s hurting and he can’t help her, take away that pain from her.

With all the frustration in his body, Roman slams his fist into the shower wall, forcing himself to calm down just enough to get cleaned up.

He uses a fresh set of clothes in the lockers to redress himself, redoing his bandages and using a towel to dry off his hair as best as possible. 

But, it’s when Jey comes and seems to interfere with Roman starting his next round of torture, a thought of starting to skin the old man sounding more than desirable, that his frustration multiplies.

“Not now.”

Roman continues to walk when he feels Jey forcefully grab his arm, forcing him to turn around. Roman looks at his hand and then back at Jey. “Have you lost—”

“Roman.” 

But, it’s the tone that stops the Head of the Table from issuing out his threat. In all the years he’s known Jey, he’s never heard his cousin use such a heavy, spooked tone.

“What?” There’s hesitation, and that only pisses Roman off. “What!”

Jey swallows, answering with an almost pained countenance. “Solana’s at the hospital.” Jey’s frown, sadness seeped and imbued into his usual gregarious voice. “She tried to kill herself, Roman.”

________

Three.

There’s now been three separate occurrences in a single day that have caused Roman to experience the emotion most unfamiliar to him.

Fear.

And this third time, it’s the strongest it’s ever been as he marches into the hospital floor where he was informed she was.

“Where is she!”

And when his gaze lands on a clearly disturbed and crying Naomi and Bayley, the anger only grows as he moves over to them. “What the fuck happened!” Roman doesn’t give them time to respond, too consumed with his anger that’s truly a mask hiding his fear. “Why weren’t you watching her! I fucking told you to watch her!”

Bayley is the first to shoot up from her chair, eyes watery but scowl intact. “We were! She—”

But, he’s not trying to hear shit what she has to say. Not when they’ve failed him in the worst way possible. “Obviously you fucking weren’t because we’re standing in a goddamn hosptal–”

Jimmy, who Roman had completely forgotten came along with him, Jey as well, does his best to diffuse the situation, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Roman, you need to calm—”

But the Head of the Table is too far gone, harshly shrugging off his cousin’s innocent attempt at calming him down. “Don’t fucking touch me!” Roman removes himself from their presence, not even wanting to see these useless bitches as he calls out once again. “Where is she!”

It’s only then he sees a blonde woman walk out from the back, dressed in a white coat, clipboard in hand. She looks irritated which only pisses him off because how the fuck do you work at a fucking hospital and look annoyed. But, when she sees him, or maybe sees how irate he is, her gaze softens. 

She steps in his direction as Roman also steps toward her, putting some distance between himself and the group. “Mr. Reigns, can—”

“Where is my wife?” It’s the same question he will keep asking until it no longer needs to be asked because he’s taken to her.

The woman, doctor, probably, frowns, motioning to the back. “Can we talk in private?”

Roman pinches the bridge of his nose, doing his best not to violate his code of never putting his hands on a woman. But, this bitch is really fucking pushing it. 

He just wants to see Solana.

He needs to see her. 

“You’ve got three fucking seconds to take me—”

She scoffs, relenting and “Fine, we’ll do it here. Your wife is in recovery. We were able to successfully pump her stomach, but we had to sedate her because she was inconsolable upon waking up. I suspect she’s in the midst of some sort of psychotic episode.”

There’s so much in that sentence to process. Roman doesn’t even know where to begin to dissect it, so he starts with the part that pisses him off the most. “She tried to overdose on pills and your solution was to put more fucking medicine in her?”

The doctor, however, seems to show no sign of backing down. “My patient needed to be stabilized, so I stabilized her.” Her voice softens a bit as she adds, not necessarily as something to throw in his face but rather an important note he shouldn’t ignore. “If you had seen how upset she was, you would have understood.”

Roman, however, can’t think about that. Can’t think about how upset and terrified Solana must have been. Somehow a level calmer, he expresses once again, “I want to see her.”

“I understand, but—”

Right away, Roman knows his brief respite from level 10 rage is about to be broken by whatever she’s about to say. “What?”

She takes a deep breath, informing, “I’m putting her on a 5250 hold.”

Roman looks from side to side. “What the fuck does that mean?”

There’s no sign of hesitation as she explains, “it means I’m keeping her here in the hospital for two weeks on a legally mandated psychiatric hold.”

Yeah….he was absolutely right. 

Level fucking 10. 

“Like hell you are!” Roman is seeing red. Who in the flying fuck does this bitch think she is to say Solana is staying in the hospital? “She’s coming home with me. Tonight. The minute she fucking wakes up.”

And that’s a fact.

“How much do you know about Solana’s psychiatric history?” A lot, and that’s why he knows she doesn’t need to stay here in this forbidding, sterile place. She needs to be home with him so he can take care of her. “This is her second suicide attempt. Now, I don’t know what the hell happened to trigger this psychotic break, but your wife is severely and actively suicidal.” She lowers her voice, softly and almost sympathetically sharing with him so only he can hear. “She was inconsolable because she was upset we saved her life. She was upset she was still alive.”

That’s it.

The thing that makes Roman’s anger crumble almost entirely. 

He wanted to believe it was a mistake, an accident of some sort. Didn’t want to believe that she truly intended to take her life tonight.

But this woman has no reason to lie, and beyond that, he’s innately adept at deciphering when someone is lying and when they’re being truthful. 

She’s not lying. 

Solana wanted to die.

Solana wanted to actually die.

And he doesn’t know what to do with that information. 

At all. 

The crack in his harsh exterior must be evident, because the doctor continues to try to convince him what he now knows probably is the right thing to do. “You can get her to sign an AMA and take her home, but I guarantee you that she’ll end up right back in this hospital for another attempt…..and the next time might be too late.”

He can’t.

Roman can’t lose her. He can’t even let himself think about what he would do if he lost her.

Especially if it was because of her own actions. 

She continues, desperate, “let us get her stabilized. On a medication regimen. As I said, this presents as a brief psychotic episode, which we can help her manage and treat but only if you let us keep her here to monitor her.” 

Roman tilts his head back, eyes closed as he scratches his beard. There’s an unfamiliar weight in his chest and stomach at the thought of having to leave this hospital tonight without Solana. But this isn’t about what he wants, it’s about what’s best for Solana. 

It’s about what she needs, and he’ll do whatever he has to do to make sure she gets the help she needs. 

“Jey.” His cousin steps up, previously keeping a respectful distance. “Get with security. I don’t want a son of a bitch that’s not Bloodline or Bloodline vetted to step foot on this floor while she’s here.”

Jey nods. “You got it.” 

Roman overhears footsteps followed by the woman speaking again, “Thank you.” She takes another deep breath and informs, “Now, it’s standard practice that we not allow visitors the first couple days—“

And just like that, the anger has returned, even more intense now that he knows Solana isn’t getting released tonight. Or anytime soon. “I don’t give a fuck about your standard practice—”

Bayley’s voice suddenly enters the conversation, Roman aware that the remaining group has stepped forward, obviously wanting to be aware of the plan and what happens now. “Roman, can you please just let Dr. Stratus do her fucking job? This isn’t about—”

Bayley, however, chose the wrong time to fuck with him. Because any filter he ever acquired because of Solana certainly won’t be used until she’s back home, with him, where she belongs.  “Like you were supposed to? Solana wouldn’t be here if you were watching her like I fucking told you to! This is your fault!”

There’s a small, minute part of him that feels bad when he sees the devastation on Bayley’s face, but it’s short lived, vastly overpowered by his tremendous anger. 

And fear.

Bayley is quick with the response though, ready and willing to aim just as low as he is. “Fuck you, Roman! You don’t get to blame this on us! You should have fucking told her! You had no right to keep the truth from her! She’s here because of you!”

The dark irony in her accusation is that It’s nothing he doesn’t already know.

Nothing he doesn’t already hate himself for.

Bayley is absolutely right.

This absolutely is on him. 

His attempts to save her only damned her. 

“Stop it! Both of ya’ll! This don’t do shit to help, and Solana wouldn’t want ya’ll fighting!” Jimmy suddenly jumps in, moving between the two highly emotional people, even if both are only expressing it as anger. He turns to his cousin first, as Naomi tries to pull Bayley away, also working to de-escalate an already tense situation. “Look, Uce, I know you want to see her, but—”

“I’m not leaving without seeing her.” Roman’s gaze is on his cousin but it’s directed toward the doctor who either takes some type of mercy on him or recognizes that Roman will literally kill everyone who gets in his way if she doesn’t give in to his demand, because she’s switching her tune.

“A couple of minutes,” she relents. “But only you.” 

Roman doesn’t care about the rest of them anyway. They can see her whenever they fucking see her. 

He’s the one who needs to see her. 

But, it’s in seeing her that a part of him wishes he didn’t. Because this isn’t right. She shouldn’t be laid up like this, unconscious, pale, such a sad expression on her sleeping face.

He hasn’t seen her like this since that first night he overheard and woke her up from her nightmare.

A nightmare. 

He’d give anything for that to be the case again. 

“I can’t lose you, Solana.” It's the first thing to leave his mouth, a plea and prayer. There’s nothing but vulnerability in his voice, and he doesn’t give a fuck. He’ll be as vulnerable as he needs to be for her. He’ll do anything for her. “I need you. I told you that, but I don’t think you understand how badly I need you.”

If there was any doubt before, it’s completely destroyed now. He doesn’t know how honest or comfortable he could be outside of these four walls, if it wasn’t just the two of them, but right now, with nothing but her steady breathing and rhythmic beating of the machines she’s plugged up to, he’ll pour his heart out.

“You can’t leave me, alright?” Roman’s hand moves to her forehead, thumb caressing her skin that feels too cold, doesn’t feel like her. “I don’t care what it takes, what you need, what I have to fucking do, but I need you to get better, and I’ll do anything to help you.” 

And he will. It’s why despite how much he hates this notion of having to leave her, the almost anxiety he has at having to leave tonight without her in his arms, he’ll do it. He’ll do it because he just wants her to be happy.

She deserves that, and he’ll do whatever it takes to get it to her. 

His voice is thick with emotion. “I just need you to stay with me, baby, okay?” Not being able to see her pretty brown eyes, the curl of her full lips as she smiles, his favorite fucking thing in the world, it’s torture.

He never wants to see her like this again. 

He can’t. 

He won’t.

Roman kisses her forehead and forces himself to walk out of the hospital room, one of the hardest departures he’s ever had to do. Dr. Stratus is waiting outside the door, and just like that, the infamous stoic, unreadable expression is back.

With Solana, he’s just Roman.

But for everyone else, he’s the Tribal Chief. 

There is no other option. 

“No men on her care team. Women only.” If she’s going to be here, he’s going to make sure she

has everything she needs. “I want daily updates. Anything happens or changes with her status at all, I want to know. You understand me?”

Dr. Stratus must have also read the section in Solana’s medical records that alludes to her sexual trauma, because she doesn’t object. “Understood.” She swallows, bringing the medical chart to her chest. “You know…I head an inpatient women’s psychiatric clinic about an hour out. It’s not uncommon for patients like your wife to transition there following dis—”

“You can keep her on your two week hold, but she’s coming home with me as soon as that’s up. Try and get in my way, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

She’s wise to not push, smart to not try to stop him from leaving, because as far as Roman is concerned, there’s nothing and no one he’ll stop short from torturing, killing, and maiming if they try to get in his way of being with Solana.

He can’t live without her.

He loves her too much to live without her.

[pedriache]

pedri fic where he’s feeling playful and does something that elicits a loud noise and gf!reader is obviously worried bc hello and he’s holding in his laugh until she rounds the corner and sees that he’s completely fine and it’s just fluff OOOHHH…

New additions — Pedri Gonzalez.

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Fem!Reader, no mention of y/n

Summary: In the midst of making lunch, you hear a loud noise, almost pained, come from outside where unknowingly, your boyfriend was sitting. Nearly stumbling over every object possibly, you get outside only to find him with… a dog?

Word count: 642

Disclaimer/s: mentions of light dog bite and a butter knife.

A/N: FINALLY HAD INSPO TO WRITE FOR THIS SINCE HIS NEW DOG ANNOUNCEMENT?? Welcome Nilo. Okay it took me a bit to actually finish this so im late but…

Finally arriving home for your lunch break, you find your way to the kitchen almost immediately. Hunger reached all points of your body, making you nearly salivate as you took out the ingredients to make a quick sandwich.

Usually, you would first find your boyfriend, but the house was a bit quieter today, so you assumed he was still at practice.

With no loud noises of him gaming or a tv show playing in the background, you open your phone to play some music. Clicking shuffle, you smile to yourself the second Frank Ocean’s “Ivy” starts playing.

As you begin the sandwich, spreading apart the two pieces of bread, you hear a slight… growl?

Instantly, your body goes rigid. One thing you hated for certain, were wild animals that growled. Pausing the music, you freeze, waiting for another noise. Thats when you hear it.

A loud, almost pained, “Gahhh!”

Your heart drops to your ass as you recognize who the sound was coming from. As if it kick started your brain, you grip the butter knife you’d been holding tight in your grasp as you stumble around the kitchen counter.

Making a bee-line toward the back patio, you find yourself nearly tripping over all the scattered things on the ground. Maybe if you looked a little harder, you would have noticed the “objects” were toys, and not your boyfriends scattered clothing like you’d assumed.

“Pedri!” You yell out, over and over again, mumbling small curses in between as you do reach down to pick up the object you’d nearly slipped on.

Without looking you toss is aside, grimacing at the dampness of it. What the fuck was going on?

“Pedri! Where are you!” You shout again, worry lacing every syllable as you finally reach to the sliding glass door.

Opening it with a harsh pull, you let out an exasperated sigh, your eyes land on your smiling boyfriend. Smiling? His face drops the second he notices the worry etched into your face.

“You okay?” He asks, still sitting on the wooden flooring. Thats when you notice whats on his lap.

Everh inch of you that once felt concern, was now just confused. “What the hell is that?” You point to the little black dog that was sitting ever so still and panting, a tennis ball in its mouth.

Not looking at what you were gawking at, Pedri feigns innocence. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Pedro. Why do you have a dog in your lap, and better yet! Why did you sound like you were being strangled, I thought there was an intruder!” Your voice raises just a tad as you wiggle your hand that still held the butter knife clutched in it.

A laugh escapes Pedri’s lips as he struggles to stand, still holding the animal in his arms. “And you planned on defending me with… that?” He glances at the knife in your hands before laughing, “I’m fine, he just bit me.”

“Bit.. You?” Your lips form a slight frown as you look down at the puppy, “i’m sure he deserved it.” You say in a baby voice, setting the knife down on the railing before scratching behind his ears.

Offense flashes across Pedri’s face, “what—“

“What’s his name?” You interrupt, scratching under the dog’s soft chin, a look of endearment replacing your frown as you take the pup from Pedri’s arms.

“Nilo.” He answers. Pedri adored the way you took him so gently, cradling him like a baby. “So we can keep him?”

Once again your eyes snap toward Pedri, “oh I dunno.. between work and your practice—“

“Please! We’ll make it work, please.” He was begging now. Your big strong boyfriend was begging. So of course you folded.

“Fine! Fine.” You chuckle, pressing a kiss to Nilo’s head. “Welcome to the family, Nilo.”

DTS , @halfwayhearted ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི love you…