#it's probably a way to make the show easier to stomach

[httpsvgin]

ᯓ “IN YOUR WILDEST

DREAMS.” ۶ৎ

“he’s so tall, and handsome as hell, he’s so bad, but he does it so well.” (TAYLOR SWIFT.)

BY @MZLLSIT!!! ᥫ᭡

PAIRING. hwang in-ho & fem!reader.

FANDOM. squid game (seasontwo.) ꪆৎ

T!W. shameless smut. porn with plot. angst. blowjobs. slight age difference. gagging. rough oral sex. violence. blood. slight manipulative in-ho?? (not as bad as it sounds.)

GENRE. smut, slight fluff?

“PART TWO OF ‘SAID YOU’RE A WILD

MUSTANG’ AS REQUESTED!!!!

(I SUGGEST READING ^ FIRST AS THE PLOT WOULD MATCH UP EASIER FOR YOU!!!

SUMMARY. ᝰ.ᐟ the day following yours and in-ho’s small.. ‘interaction’ left you feeling hopeless as you found that he had been avoiding you since the second he left you vulnerable in that bathroom. a million questions spiralled in your head to what possibly could be the reason he was acting so stubborn and hell, did you want your answers. taking matter into your own hands, you cornered in-ho into giving you the answers you want and deserve.. until you found yourself in a rather.. sticky situation?

!!!!AUTHORS NOTE!!!!! . . . in this fanfic i twisted up the story a smudge and basically removed the whole last scene of the rebellion and replaced it with the aftermath of the night games and the players making their way up toward their 4th game just so this story would kinda like make sense bruh??? and on another note the comments left on my last post were so supportive istg my ego is through the roof yall i love it. also, im thinking of writing a story with the love interest being sangwoo cuz hes been my man since day one guys. lmk who u want to see me write about next and thank you so much for all your support!!!!!!!! ᥫ᭡

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the hours following after the blood bath that erupted amongst the players felt as though they could last a million lifetimes. you watched as the pink covered guards entered the room with those obnoxious boxes, plush and dark with a taunting pink bow on the top just to add another “fuck you” to the players about their power while they scrooped up the bodies of the dead.

blood seemed to be on every surface your eyes could catch, the floor, walls, even the beds as you watched a guard carry a limp body of a woman who’s stomach was mutilated and open for all to see, her eyes fluttered shut to show she probably was attacked in her sleep. you couldn’t help but feel bile rise in the back of your throat at the scene, swallowing the acid back down to your stomach with a trembling lip. how can anyone be so fucking inhumane?

yet while you fought away your vomit, your eyes pinned onto a familiar body who was being carried into a box. nam-yu’s wide, dead eyes felt as though they were following your live ones as they lowered him into the box. instantly your mind snapped to the memory of in-ho puncturing the metal pole in through his heart and feeling his warm, crimson blood drip along down your face before his body collapsed ontop of you. this time, your final view of the man who tried to end your life was left with a hole through his body and his head tilted up to stare at the ceiling as they slid the lid of the box over his body.

and yet the man who saved your life seemed to have removed himself from it completely as he sat in the same corner with gi-hun, jung-bae and the rest of their alliance, his eyes staring at the ground with what looked like guilt but with feeling your eyes on him, he tilted his own to look back at you for a short moment which made your heart rattled against your chest before his attention was quickly yanked away as jung-bae opened his mouth to talk.

so here you sat across the room, feeling like a crumb that was kicked under the carpet, longed to be forgot about. not even an hour ago he was staring up at you from between your legs like you were a prized antique, fragile and precious and made to be cherished. now here he is, running a firm hand through his messy hair, not daring to look in your direction. how man like of him.

biting the flesh from under your finger nails you sat a few bunk beds away from your group while the x’s stayed firm in their side of the room but this time each of the sides were down by far more numbers and looked slightly more frightened than ever before.

“hey. .” a soft voice came and dragged you out of your thoughts as you turned your head at the sound of your name. player 120 looked down at you softly, hands tightly at her side to try not to spook you. “my god, i thought you were dead.” she whispered a little breathlessly as she smiled a sweet smile she knew you needed yet you could tell she was more than thrilled to see your face alive and well.

cho-hyun ji her name was, she was someone you stuck along side with during all of the games you played. she and her group recruited you to be theirs during the second game where you shocked your group with your skill of spinning top. to be honest, despite your angered shape it was more than soothing to see such a kind and comforting face after everything.

“come, sit with us.” slowly and carefully she brought her hand up to settle on your shoulder yet not firmly enough to scare you or pressure you.

your eyes were brought to the group who you found to be staring back at you with a smile, player 222, she held her large belly with one hand yet her other tapped the spot next to her, signalling you to sit. gi-hun, the leader you supposed also offered a kind smile toward your way where as in-ho’s dark eyes stared in way you couldn’t quiet put your tongue on. lust? anger? guilt? who knows, instead you took hyun-ji’s hand and followed her over to the rest of the group and ignored the fiery feeling in your stomach.

“ah-haha! there she is!” jung-bae called out from his seat on the stairs and before you could even respond he pulled you into a tight, suffocating embrace, his plump arms patting your back while he chuckled. “we thought we lost you for a second there!” you laughed kindly at the groups relief of seeing your face again and as jung-bae released his bear grip on you, from over his shoulder you caught eyes with in-ho, a strand of his dark hair fell over his eyes which looked like they darkened in colour at the view of you two, and fuck, did it make your stomach sink.

after your small reunion with the group you finally took your seat inbetween player 222 and gi-hun, who affirmed your nervousness with a warm smile yet you could see the pain from behind his eyes as he quickly returned his attention back toward the conversation jung-bae and his marine friend were bantering about. you guessed they were probably trying to make the best out of a bad situation judging by how deflated and scared most of you seemed.

your mind blurred with whatever conversation was happening amongst your friends and instead your eyes pinned to stare at the pink, square guards that stood at the metal double doors, then stared to in-ho, then back to the guards. what correlation did this man have with them? because hell, theres no way they would’ve opened that door even if you pleaded with your whole life and still they allowed him with you at his side to slide away from death and into heavens gates? it made no sense to you at all. and why was it so easy for him to act as though nothing between you had even happened not even a few hours ago when it was eating you up from the inside not to scream in his face.

maybe im overreacting? you thought. anyone in this room is just as desperate for sex, he probably saw you in that bathroom as a stress reliever, a one ‘night’ stand that he could easily slip away from with no feelings attached? sure, it made sense, but nor did it stop the way you felt towards him and it definitely did not make sense on how easily those guards let him live. this man has power, and nobody else knows about it.

and you were going to find out what is was, even if it costs you your life.

. . . .

“attention all players, the next game will commence shortly. please make your way toward the game hall!” the ai voice called from the several speakers around the room to which everyone began to shakily rise from their spots, making their way to the now opened doors.

“any idea on what the next games could be?” you heard jung-bae ask gi-hun, to which gi-hu replied with a tight shrug, assuring that the games have changed since the last time he played and that it was completely out of his power. gi-hun was kind and definitely did not deserve all that was racking on his shoulders, besides, he was a good man with a good heart.

you stuck behind the crowd, following tightly behind hyun-ji while the rest of your group walked through the doors to where the bright colours of the spiralled hallways illuminated and burnt your eyes. in-ho followed closely behind you, alone, and you could practically feel the way his eyes burnt holes at the back of your head. this was your opportunity.

hyun-ji chatted alongside player 246, making their way hastily up the stairs while you shortened your steps, slowing your legs down down and listening quietly to in-ho behind, who’s steps were beginning to match your pace.

waiting until you were out of sight, you twisted your head around to face in-ho behind you before using all your strength to pull and yank him up against the wall, anger lacing your eyes. even though you were at an advantage, his height still towered over you, like he could swallow you whole as he stared down at you, grinning. you felt vulnerable at how beautiful he looked pinned against a wall, keeping his eyes calm and settled on you, hair messy and scattered along his relaxed features.

“mm, little girl finally found her strength, yeah?” his tone was glazed sweetly like honey with a hint of sarcasm laced on his tongue as he took the view of you, knitted eyebrows, hair pulled back into a loose bun as you panted harshly with your hand tight against his chest, trying to keep him still.

“youve been avoiding me.” your chest heaved, staring into his souls with attempted anger yet a slight glisten of lust shimmer behind your eyes. the way you had him pinned reminded you of how he had you in that bathroom, pretty face buried between your legs and eating you out like a man starved of thirst. it sent your thighs to clench just at the thought.

“i have reasons.” his tongue poked on the inside of his cheek, the nerves in his jaw clenched for a moment yet he never broke eye contact or even tried to move out of your grip.

“oh yeah? what reasons, cause i sure as hell know theres something up with you.” you gripped his shirt harder under your shaking hands, yanking his shirt forward in attempt to gain your dominance. he laughed. right in your fucking face, soft and innocent but fuck did it damage your ego.

“reasons that don’t concern you, sweetheart.” the nickname rolled on his tongue in a way that sent butterflies to spiral in the pit of your stomach and your cheeks to flush in a soft pink colour. “now, are we going to do this the nice way, or my way.”

now it was your turn to laugh, cocking an eyebrow and yanking his shirt tighter toward you so his face was inches from yours. “you don’t fucking scare me, in-ho.” you spat, face now laced with seriousness as you stood you firm ground.

“well, so be it.” he shrugged firmly before his hand wrenched around your wrist and yanking it behind your back in a split second. crying out in pain, he shoved your back against him to where your ass pressed firmly against his front while his other hand wrapped around your mouth to muffle your yells. your free arm clawed and slapped against the arm that quietened you yet his strength overpowered yours so easily.

“why’d you have to be so difficult, hm?” his lips were so close to your ear lobe that his hot breath ticked against the plush of your neck.

“fuck you..” you whispered out from a shaky breath, feeling embarrassed at how quickly the tables turned in just a few seconds. then, he chuckled again, but instead this one came out darker.

“as you wish.” he whispered into the crook of your neck before grabbing both your wrists with one hand and used his other to yank the door handle behind him that his back pressed against, shoving you both inside.

the first thing that caught your eye was the long walk way and how nearly every material of the room was covered in gold decor, walls covered in black paint with shelves of whiskey and liquor that probably dated back to centuries ago sat behind a glass case while in the centre sat a large tv half the size of the room. on the screen played footage of the players still walking up the stairs to the game, in front sat a plush, leather couch with a side table that had a half drank glass of bourbon ontop. next to that sat a mask, yet it was different from the one the guards wore and it made your skin tingle.

yet your wondering eyes were stopped in their tracks as in-ho pressed himself tighter against your lower back before leading you forward through the walkway, his breathe tickling softly against your skin.

“you’re shaking.” he spoke against your pulse point in your neck, still pining your wrist behind you as he walked you like a fucking dog toward the plush sofa to where he brought you round to the front. slowly, his long fingers trailed up your body, not once letting his lips leave your skin as he practically inhaled your scent. eventually they landed on your clothed shoulder before he pressed down on it for you to lower yourself down on your knees.

fuck. you tried to swallow the lump that grew in your throat as you sat on your knees in front of him, watching as he man spread out before you, arms resting behind him while he stared down at you with that same fucking smirk that made you clench your legs.

“who are you working fo—“ the words muffled your throat before you were shoved face first into his crotch, feeling his hard erection through the material of his joggers. he rubbed your cheek against the bulge in his trousers and you swore you heard a small, whiny hum from his lips.

“shh.. why don’t you use that pretty mouth of yours for a greater good, hm?” his large palm petted the back of your head, stroking you like you were a soft animal as you swallowed the gathering saliva that gathered anxiously in your mouth. “do me well and ill answer any questions you have for me, sweetheart. deal?”

you nodded your chin up and down as you slowly edged your finger to the waist band of his tracksuit bottoms, pulling them slowly with shaking fingers. feeling your trembling touch, in-ho brought a warm palm to your cheek, thumb running comfortingly over the scar left under your eye as his eyes glistened beautifully under the gold lighting. and shit, you swore you get sticky just at his touch.

“mhm, just like that.” he coed down at you quietly, treating you as precious that if he spoke to loud you would shatter like a piece of glass. being validated by him was a drug you never knew you needed, and hell, were you addicted. cautiously, you began pulling at his clothes again until they were down to his thighs, leaving him in a pair of calvin kline boxer briefs. hot and ironic, judging his rich scent you werent exactly surprised to see them with his large bulge staring back at you.

for a moment, you looked up at him to where he was already staring back down at you, palm still cupping your cheek as he gave a gentle nod of approval before your finger tips brushed at the elastic top of his pants as softly yanking them down. fuck.

his size practically made your mouth gape open slightly, your wide eyes taking in the mouthwatering sight. a baby pink tip beaded and glistened with pre-cum while a pretty vein ran along the side of his cock, starting from his base and traveling the full way to the tip. you gulped at his girth, fantasising at how perfectly he could satisfyingly fill you up against this fucking couch.

“please.” he mumbled, sounding breathless already and slightly needy as he took one hand to gather your soft hair into a ponytail before shoving your head down harshly on his cock, forcing his tip to stab against the back of your throat which made your eyes fill with tears as you choked.

bobbing your head up and down, your lips wrapped around his large girth perfectly while your palms sat firm on either side of his thighs for support. the sounds leaving his mouth were like they were sent from heaven, breathless and desperate, almost enough to make you cum there and then. his fingers interlinked with the roots on your hair, tugging on the strands.

bringing yourself up from his cock, you admired the way it glistened with your saliva as you caught your breath. for a moment, you looked up to capture the view of this man, his head tilted back as his adams apple bobbed in his throat while his eyes wrenched shut. he was fucking beautiful and vulnerable while you sat in between his legs, it made you want to suck him dry until he cried out your name to stop.

gently, you leaned you head back down to his tip, using your tongue to kitten lick around the base to taste the sweetness of his pre-cum. this caused in-ho to grip at your hair painfully, letting out a deep groan at the way you teased his sensitive tip.

“who do you work for?” you whispered against his length and you swore you felt it twitch between your hand as you used one to work at the base of his cock while your tongue remained along his tip, licking long stripes.

“i dont work for nobody.” he grumbled from the couch, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, his chest heaving slightly at how beautifully you worked and treated him. “what makes you think i do, hm?”

“during the night those guards just—“ you gripped on the meat of his thigh as he shoved your mouth back down on his cock, making you gag out loudly against him which sent shivers down his spine at the vibration. tears battled behind your eyes at the burning that began to ride in the back of your throat yet his cock continued to thrust harsher and deeper between your lips.

you couldn’t even breathe against him, yet he couldn’t give less of a shit as he continued to shove his dick balls deep in your snappy mouth that got you in this position in the first place. sucking and gagging along his cock felt euphoric for you, even leaving your panties wet with your slick yet you attempted to cross your legs at the uncomfortable, sticky feeling that grew in between them.

squeezing on his thighs, you felt hot tears stream from your cheeks while your mouth battled with the roughness of his thrusts as he fucked your mouth vigorously. soon enough, your knees bucked at the way he twitched in your mouth before his warm cum coated every surface of your mouth, filling you up completely.

“fuck..” he panted harshly, letting go of the grip of hair he held to look down at you with your mouth full of cum. your lips were puffy and pink while your cheeks stained with tears as you swallowed harshly, his taste leaving a sweet tingle on your tongue. then, he took your face in with hand hand, lifting your chin up to look at him as he squeezed both sides of your cheeks between his fingers.

“look at me when i talk to you.” he grunted down at you, fluttering your eyelashes to look at his face with your glossy eyes as you sniffled slightly. taking one hand, he wiped a drip of cum from the crease of your lips before tugging at your hair to open your mouth. sliding his thumb between your lips, you licked of the residue with the warmth of your tongue, then softly he removed it with a short pop.

“you’re a smart girl, yeah? but not smart enough to understand what danger you have put yourself in.” his tone was gentle, yet his words made your heart thump wildly against your chest. the fuck does that mean? you wanted to ask, yet you chewed on your tongue to not do so.

“i dont.. understand?” you almost choked on your words, eyebrows knotting into a thrown as you felt just as clueless as before, yet this time with a slight bit of your dignity stripped judging by the fact you had to suck off a potentially dangerous stranger because you were curious.. well, not just that. but still, he had your mind lopped in confusion thats for sure.

“i don’t expect you to, sweetheart.” he coed, twirling your soft hair between his finger tips while his other still remained on keeping your chin up at him. “but, please, understand this.”

slowly, he lowered his head down toward yours, brushing his thumb along the softness of your bottom lip. in-ho stopped to trace his lips along your ear lobe, nibbling at the soft skin before opening his mouth to whisper upon it. “if anyone even dares to hurt you, i promise ill chop off every single one of their fingers and serve them to you on a silver platter.” he chuckled against your neck, licking a nipping at the skin as he felt you tremble bellow him.

“with their head as dessert.” he growled in your ear, violence and threat slashed on his tongue while he used his spare arm to scoop you up from the plush carpet floor and into the warmth of his lap. “do you understand that?”

“yes.” your bottom lip trembled and eyes widened with the seriousness of his tone, and fuck did he mean every word of it. nor did you hesitate to believe him either, taking your hands to wrap around the back of his neck and rest your chin into the crook of his neck, inhaling the expensive scent he let off.

“thats my girl.”

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - FOUR

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of pregnancy; abortion; health risks; insecurities. chapter one┆chapter two┆ chapter three

You were curled up next to Rafe, head on his shirtless chest, listening to the rise and fall of his breath.

You could hear the crash of the waves. His fingers were tangled in your hair, slow and lazy, like he had all the time in the world.

“Do you ever think about the future?” You asked, not even sure why you said it. 

Maybe it was the mood, the quiet.

He laughed softly, the sound rumbling through his chest, vibrating against your cheek.

“Future? Baby, we’re in the future right now.” He tilted his head to look down at you, his blue eyes catching the last bits of sunlight, making them almost glow. “What more do we need?”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. “I’m serious. What’s next for us?”

He was quiet for a second, and you held your breath, waiting. Sometimes Rafe had this way of avoiding real talk. He’d joke, or deflect, or turn the conversation back to something easy.

“You,” he said, his voice low like he was confiding you a secret. “You’re what’s next. What’s always next.” His arm tightened around you, pulling you into his lap. 

You smiled, that stupid, giddy smile that probably made you look ridiculous, but you didn’t care. His breath tickled your forehead as he kissed you there slowly.

He was so sure in that moment, like nothing could touch you two.

You lifted your head, just enough to look at him.

His face was so clear, each detail spot on, you could reach out and touch it. His messy beach hair, the way it fell into his eyes, his crooked smile, that scar on his chin from when he’d wiped out on his bike in high school.

All of him was yours.

“Promise?” You asked, like a part of you needed to hear it again, needed the reassurance.

Rafe leaned in, his lips grazing yours before he whispered against them, “Promise.”

He had this way of making all feel so simple, like the future wasn’t some big, scary thing.

“I’m never letting you go,” it sounded more like a prayer coming from his lips, fingers tracing small circles on your arm, sending these tiny electric shocks through you. “You’re stuck with me, Thornton.”

“Good.”

But then something changed.

His grip loosened. His warmth started to fade, and you blinked, confused. You lifted your head, trying to find his eyes, but his face was different.

Blurred. Distant.

“Rafe?” You whispered, reaching for him, but he wasn’t there.

The warmth was completely gone, replaced with cold, empty air. You turned, searching for him, but all you saw were shadows where he used to be.

The waves crashed louder, and you realized you were alone. Just like that, everything was gone, everything he promised, was gone.

You sat up in bed, gasping, hands instinctively going to your stomach in the darkness of your bedroom.

He wasn’t here. He was with her. You were alone. 

Pregnant.

You tried to stabilize your breathing, wiping away the tears that had slipped out during your sleep. The bed felt too big, empty without him. And the memory of his touch, his words, felt cruel now. 

You stared up at the ceiling wondering how a memory could feel so real, so vivid, but that was all it was. Just a memory. Just another piece of the past you kept chasing.

You looked down at your stomach, your hand still resting on the bump, if you could call it that. You weren’t showing at all, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t real. You knew it was.

Your very first appointment was in a few hours, and the thought of it made you want to throw up.

You needed to know how far along you were. It would be easier to stay in bed and let the what ifs spiral in your head than to face them, but you didn’t hold that privilege anymore.

You dragged yourself out of queen-sized bed, avoiding the mirror as you moved around the room.

You didn’t want to see your reflection right now, you dreaded facing the girl who had let herself get into this mess.

You threw on a pair of loose, old sweats and a hoodie, one that swallowed you whole, hiding everything.

The kind of outfit that made you feel invisible, and right now, that’s exactly what you wanted. It’s not like anyone around here cared much anyway, rich girl or not, kooks were experts at pretending. 

You grabbed your keys, your phone, and the one thing you couldn’t forget today —courage.

One foot in front of the other. One breath at a time.

The appointment was soon, and you needed to get there. You kept reminding yourself that you’d figure it out once you knew how far along you were, everything would make sense after that.

The drive there was a mess, the anxiety and anger, you didn’t want to acknowledge today were taking turns messing with your head.

You didn’t want to think about how you’d once imagined a future with Rafe, how he’d promised you a lifetime under the sun.

You could never feel guilty about keeping this from him. He’d made his choices, and now you had to make yours.

You rolled up in your car and had to park in the visitor lot, trying to sneak in like you weren’t a whole mess of nerves behind the wheel of a brand-new Range Rover.

It was practically empty, which was fine by you, less people to run into, less eyes on you, since every second you spent there was a second someone could recognize you.

Someone could see, that was the last thing you needed — for this to become some juicy little rumor for the Kildare gossip mill to chew up and spit out. 

You pulled your oversized sunglasses lower on your face, hoping they’d hide the fact that you were shaking.

You hated the fact that you were even in this position as you sat there, tapping your foot impatiently, checking the clock every five minutes like it was some kind of countdown to freedom.

Every noise from the hallway made you flinch, like any second someone familiar would burst through the door, see you there.

You winced in horror when your name was called out, following the nurse leading you down a sterile hallway that smelled of antiseptic. You tried to keep your mind off the fact that this was the first step toward the most life-altering decision you’d ever have to make. 

"The doctor will be in soon."

Times like these you wished you’d chosen a private clinic, but you had to avoid as many kooks as possible, even if it meant slumming it in this hospital. 

This was real.

Sitting down on the exam table, the paper crinkled under you, the sound making you cringe. You felt so small in that room, so alone. You’d always had someone—Rafe, even Topper. But right now, it was just you.

Your legs dangled off the edge of the table as you waited.

It felt like forever before there was a knock on the door, and the doctor entered.

"Hi, I’m Dr. Madison," she greeted you, offering you a smile as she sat down on the stool beside you. "How are you feeling today?"

What the fuck were you supposed to say? That your life was falling apart? That you didn’t know what to do? 

So you settled for a, “"I’ve been better," looking anywhere but at her.

She nodded like she understood, she’d most likely heard it all before. 

"Alrigh’, we’re just going to take a look and see how far along you are, okay? I’ll need you to lay back."

You did as she said, leaning back against the stiff pillow, trying to relax. 

"This is going to be a little cold," she warned as she reached for the ultrasound gel.

A little? You nearly jumped off the table as the gel hit your stomach, cold and slimy, like ice against your skin. You winced but tried to keep still as she spread it over your lower abdomen.

The machine whirred to life, and she placed the probe on your stomach. You sucked in a breath, trying not to cry as the screen lit up with grainy images.

She moved the probe slowly, methodically, her eyes glued to the monitor, and you couldn’t breathe. 

You forced your eyes to the ceiling, refusing to look at the monito, refusing to see. You couldn’t let yourself get attached, not like that.

If you saw what was on that screen—if you saw the shape of something, anything—it would kill you. Your breaths were shallow, and your fingers clenched the sides of the exam table, gripping the paper until it tore under your hands.

Dr. Madison was quiet as she moved the probe over your skin, you knew she was seeing something. You could hear the beeping of the machine, the faint hum of the monitor.

"Okay. Looks like you’re about thirteen weeks along."

"How long is that?"

"Almost 3 months, give or take."

No, that couldn’t be right, you’d barely felt any different.

You were at thirteen weeks. Just over the line.

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry.

 "Thirteen?" you repeated, like maybe if you said it out loud, it would make more sense. But it didn’t.

"Alright," you told her, voice even, like that number wasn’t echoing in your head, smashing through the calm you’d been faking this whole time. 

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Madison eyes scanned your face, probably trying to gauge how much of this you were even absorbing. “I know this is a lot to take in.”

A lot? That didn’t even begin to cover it.

The doctor cleared her throat gently. “In North Carolina, after twelve weeks, the options for termination become much more limited unless it falls under specific conditions like rape, incest, or a fetal anomaly. I know this might be overwhelming, but I’m here to walk you through what’s possible.”

You nodded, but it was a lie. You weren’t hearing any of it, you were already listing other possibilities, another place.

Your mind was a step ahead, planning out the details, flights, or maybe driving. Somewhere where no one would ask questions, where you could walk in and get this over with.

Just slip away for a couple days.

She kept talking, saying something about other options, but you weren’t hearing it. It sent your heart into a stampede.

"Thanks, Doctor," you said when you realized she was done speaking, your voice perfectly polite, perfectly controlled. 

It felt like you were watching someone else speak.

You were nodding like you understood like you had a plan. Inside? You were screaming. Your thoughts were a mess, colliding into each other—Oh my God, what now, what the fuck are you going to do? So much more work just because you were stupid enough to wait.

Dr. Madison gave you this list—appointments to schedule, things you should and shouldn’t do, prenatal vitamins to pick up. She might as well have been speaking a different language for all you heard. 

You mumbled something that sounded like “thanks” as she handed you the prescription, barely glancing at the paper. 

“Is there really nothing I can do?”

You couldn't confide your plans to her, for obvious reasons.

“I can’t advocate for any illegal options, but I understand your concern. If you were just a week earlier, we could have discussed a simple outpatient procedure. However, now you’re facing a more complex situation.”

You never felt so frustrated in your life, “But I’m—I can get you anything. You don’t understand, I can pay—”

“Miss Thornton,” she interrupted, her voice firm yet sympathetic, “I know you’re not trying to bribe me right now. I need you to understand that legality and ethics come into play here. What you’re suggesting isn’t something I can support or even discuss further. We have to work within the framework of the law.”

You bit your tongue, resisting the temptation to lash out at her.

“So that’s it, then? I’m just supposed to accept that I’m stuck with this?”

“There are still options we can explore together. We can discuss what’s next in terms of prenatal care, adoption, or even resources that might help you if you choose to carry the pregnancy to term. But I can’t ignore the fact that you’re beyond the legal limit for a straightforward abortion.”

You blinked rapidly, “Adoption?”

The idea of keeping the baby made your stomach bend into a different shape, but that alternative felt just as wrong.

She looked at you with genuine empathy.

“I understand that this is overwhelming. The decision is ultimately yours, but I need to emphasize that time is of the essence, and the choices you make today will have lasting implications.”

Then she was gone, leaving you alone in that sterile room with your head spinning.

You couldn’t even fucking remember the last time you felt normal. Now, you were staring down the barrel of a pregnancy you didn’t even know was this far along. The doctor’s speech about vitamins, checkups, and avoiding alcohol bounced off around in your head.

You swallowed down the nausea that had nothing to do with morning sickness, grabbed your purse, and walked out like nothing had just changed. 

You shoved the papers into your purse without a second thought, your mind already screaming to get out, to run, to go somewhere.

Anywhere but here.

As you walked out into the waiting area, you spotted a mother with her toddler, the kid giggling and playing with his toys. Would your baby be that happy? Would they giggle like that?

No, no, you couldn’t go there.

Your fingers were numb as they fumbled for your keys, and you somehow managed to get into the Rover.

The second the door slammed shut, the tears you’d been restraining started to fall.

All you could think about was getting far, far away from here, somewhere no one would recognize you, where people didn’t know your last name or expect you to show up to some debutante ball with a well-behaved husband, a kid on each arm, perfectly polished.

"Fuck..." you whispered through clenched teeth, squeezing your eyes shut like maybe that could make it stop. But it didn’t. Your whole body was trembling, hands shaking so hard you couldn't hold the wheel right.

You leaned your forehead against the steering wheel, trying to catch your breath.

Thirteen weeks.

You couldn’t stay here, in this parking lot. You needed to go somewhere safe, somewhere that made sense. You needed them.

Without really thinking, you turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the lot. 

You didn’t even know where you were going at first, your body knew, the same familiar route you’d taken too many times. You didn’t realize where you were going at first, but once you passed the last stoplight before the cemetery, it hit you.

You parked haphazardly, not caring if your car was straight or if anyone saw. This was the only place you could think of. The only place that wasn’t ruined by all the mess in your life. 

Your parents. Your sister.

Their graves were tucked away in the back corner, under the big oak tree that had been there for as long as you could remember. You parked the car and got out, the ground crunching under your feet as you made your way to them. 

You sank to your knees in front of their headstones, your fingers brushing against the cool marble as if touching them could somehow make them feel closer. They’d been gone for five years, and no matter how many times you came here, that fact never got easier to swallow.

“I don’t know what to do,” you choked out, stopping to bite down on your bottom lip hard to keep from completely breaking down. “I’m so... I’m so fucking lost.”

The wind rustled the leaves above you, and for a second, you wished it would just take you away too. Make everything disappear.

“I’m pregnant.” You spit the words out, voice cracking, like admitting it was burning your throat. “Thirteen weeks,” you added, saying it out loud for the first time. Your hands curled into fists, fingers digging into the grass.

The tears came back, harder this time, and you bent forward, clutching your stomach, forehead pressing into the ground as if you could just bury yourself there. 

“I can’t—I can’t do this alone. I don’t know how to do this without you.”

Your voice broke completely, turning into a sob that you couldn’t stop. You were crying so hard you couldn’t even breathe, gasping, like you were drowning in it. 

“Why aren’t you here?” you cried, “Why did you leave me? Why did you—” but the words caught in your throat, turning into another round of weeping.

You stayed for a long time, curled up on the ground, crying so hard it hurt, until the tears finally slowed, until you felt empty, drained.

Afterwards, you sat back, wiping at your swollen eyes with the back of your hand.

“I’m pregnant,” you repeated, this time softer, “And I can’t... I can’t tell him. He’s with her, and I—I just can’t.”

You sniffed, cleaning your nose with your sleeve, feeling ridiculous and broken all at once.

Your breath hitched again as you forced yourself to stand up, even though every part of you wanted to collapse back onto the ground. 

They were gone, it was just you. Alone. You think that’s why there was this tiny persistent voice in the back of your brain whispering things you weren’t ready to hear.

This was a chance, wasn’t it? To finally have someone again, someone you didn’t have to say goodbye to.

The second the thought crossed your mind, you felt a gush of panic, a nauseating conviction that you were nowhere near capable of raising a child. You barely remembered to take care of yourself, so how could you possibly take care of a baby?

It felt so fucked up to you, to think this could be a “fresh start” or something like it—no, you weren’t naïve enough to believe that. Not when you’d barely coped to get through the last five years.

You remembered the doctor’s voice, factual, mentioning adoption.

Carrying this baby only to hand it over to someone else—someone who might be better equipped—Could you do that? Carry a piece of your family’s future, only to give it away? It felt wrong.

You were halfway to your car, still wiping the tears from your face, when you heard someone call your name.

“Hey... Is that you?”

You froze. The last thing you wanted was to run into someone, especially now. Not here, not like this.

Turning slowly, you saw her — Sarah Cameron, Rafe’s sister — standing by her mom’s grave.

She was holding a bouquet of wildflowers, brown eyes narrowing as she took you in. She looked like she'd been here a while, but the moment she saw your state, she dropped what she came here to do.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" she asked, her voice rising with worry.

Her eyes, so different from Rafe’s, scanned over you, taking in your bloodshot eyes, the messy hair, the way your clothes were dirty from sitting on the ground too long. 

You hadn’t taken sides when her and Topper split up; you’d just known, deep down, that they weren’t right for each other. He had this stubborn, idealized version of her that she could never live up to, and that had been the beginning of the end.

You opened your mouth to say something, to tell her you were fine, that you didn’t need her sympathy right now. Instead, you just stood there like a fucking idiot, eyes wide, as Sarah dropped the flowers and rushed to your side.

“Hey, hey,” she panicked, as if she was talking to a wounded animal. “What happened? What’s going on?”

Sarah touched your arm gently, and that’s when it hit you, the fear, the panic, the loneliness — it overwhelmed you.

Without thinking, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around her, holding on tight.

You didn’t even care how desperate it looked, how messed up you were right now. You just needed someone.

She froze for a split second, caught off guard, but then she softened, her arms wrapping around you tightly. She was warm, solid, and so there, and the moment she hugged you back, the floodgates opened for the millionth time that week.

You started crying again, silent but hard, your face buried in her shoulder as your whole body shook.

Sarah didn’t say anything; didn’t ask questions, just focused on holding you tighter, her hand smoothing over your back like she was trying to calm you down. The kindness of it, the warmth,you hadn’t grasped how much you needed it until right now.

“Shh, it’s okay,” her voice was soothing. “I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

You hadn’t seen her in months — not since everything went down with her and Rafe after Ward died.

The whole family had fallen apart after that.

Sarah had cut ties again, another fallout with Rafe. Things between them were always like a ticking time bomb, and Ward’s death had blown everything wide open. You knew they hadn’t been on speaking terms since.

It made this moment even weirder, seeing her here, of all places. She looked different, too, she was carrying her grief, her pain, that wild spark in her eyes a little more dim than you remembered.

As you pulled away from the hug, you blinked through the tears, and her face came back into focus. She was still looking at you, her brows knitted with worry, the wildflowers she’d brought for her mom now forgotten on the ground behind her. 

She looked like she was about to ask a million questions, but she was waiting for you to speak first.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” you finally said something, trying to wipe your face with the sleeve of your hoodie. It was a lame thing to say, but you couldn’t find any better words.

Sarah gave a small, sad smile, shrugging a little. 

“Yeah, I just… I come here sometimes. To see my mom.” Her voice was quieter than usual, and you could hear the strain behind it, “I guess I needed it today.”

You understood the feeling all too well.

You both stood there for a moment, just looking at each other, and you could tell she was dying to ask why you were here. Why you looked like you’d just been rolling around in the dirt. 

Instead, she said, “You okay? I mean, really?”

In some weird way, you’d always thought you’d be able to keep this part of yourself locked away, hidden and safe where no one could see it

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, the lie slipping out too easily. “Just… rough day, you know?” Your voice was hoarse, still shaky from the crying.

Sarah frowned, not convinced. She stepped closer, her hand hovering near your arm like she wanted to touch you but wasn’t sure if you’d let her.

"You sure? You don’t look fine."

You forced a smile, “Yeah, I’m good. Just needed some air. It’s been a lot.” You didn’t want to get into it, didn’t want to unload everything. 

She sighed, her shoulders slumping just a little. 

“Okay. But… you know if you ever need to talk to someone, I’m here, right?”

You blinked, not really sure how to answer to that, nodding away, hoping she’d drop it.

“I know I was just Rafe’s little sister,” she continued with pursed lips, “but you’ve always been like a big sister to me. Okay? Him being an asshole to both of us doesn’t change that. Ever.”

You could see she meant it. This wasn’t just some passing offer out of pity, Sarah was genuinely worried, wanting to be there for you.

You just nodded dumbly.

Sarah smiled softly with that same old Cameron determination. “Seriously. Whatever’s going on, I’m here.”

You stepped back, breaking the small bubble of comfort, you didn’t even realize you’d let her create.

“I should probably go,” you awkwardly muttered, brushing your hair out of your face and trying to straighten out your hoodie like that could somehow make you seem more put together. “But thanks, Sarah. Really.”

She just watched you with that worried look still across her face, but then she nodded. “Anytime.”

You turned to leave, feeling her eyes on your back as you walked away, your steps slow on the grass.

The loneliness had been suffocating, and even though you didn’t tell her anything, just hearing Sarah say she was there, that she still saw you as family—it meant more than you wanted to admit.

It wasn’t like anything was magically better.

You used to think this island would keep you safe forever, that it was big enough to hold your problems. 

Now, it felt like it was shrinking around you.

You were curled up on the couch, laptop balanced on your knees.

You’d googled “abortion options United States,” expecting answers, but all you found were long lists of restrictions, rules, states drawing hard lines.

You already knew that in North Carolina, you were already past the point of no return. So you kept digging, checking every single state until you found one, a random thread on some forum, that talked about New Mexico.

No restrictions on timing.

You scrolled, following link after link, getting deep into some Reddit threads, reading accounts from women who’d done it, who’d had to pack up their whole lives, fly out, handle everything on their own.

No one to tell, just a flight, a few days’ stay in a place that looked nothing like home, just to try and get back to normal. The whole time you were reading, this weird sense of relief and fear entwined in your gut. 

So you can get out of this.

By the time you shut your laptop, your head was pounding but at least you had something that felt like a plan.

The next morning, you woke up before the sun, tossing on yesterday’s clothes and brushing your hair as best you could with one hand. You scrolled through the numbers you’d scribbled down last night and dialed the first one.

You had to it straight away, without a chance of backing out. So you closed your eyes with all your might and hit call.

A woman’s voice picked up on the fourth ring.

“Women’s Health Center, this is Amanda. How can I help you?”

You cleared your throat, trying to sound normal. Like you weren’t shaking like a leaf.

“Hi. Um, I’m calling to see about scheduling… an appointment. I’m about thirteen weeks.”

“We do have availability. Our next spot is ten days from now.”

Ten days. Shit. Could you wait that long, or was that too soon? Shouldn't you think about it some more?

Maybe you needed more time.

Or maybe you shouldn’t be doing this at all.

You were already running through a hundred different what-ifs, a panicked mental list of everything you hadn’t thought through.

“Is that… is that the soonest?” You surprised yourself by asking.

There was a pause on the other end, and you could hear the kindness in Amanda’s voice.

“Yes, it’s our first available spot for a procedure beyond twelve weeks,” she informed you, “We’d also want to complete a few assessments with you, along with some necessary paperwork and counseling. I can walk you through everything if that helps.”

You nodded automatically, realizing a second too late she couldn’t see you. “Yeah… yeah, okay.”

“I’ll go over a few things with you, so you’re prepared. Do you have a pen handy?”

You grabbed a random envelope and pen from the countertop, jotting down every detail.

“You’ll need a form of ID, proof of residency—we’re required to check for that. Some basic insurance information if you have it. You’ll also have some health assessments here when you arrive, mostly standard but including a psychological evaluation just to ensure everything’s covered from a health perspective.”

It was all just words, logistics. You weren't exactly processing the information, just robotically writing it down.

“There’s also a mandatory counseling session we’ll need to go through. In case you have questions, or concerns. This will all be confidential, but it’s for your safety, both physically and emotionally.”

“Right,” you said, just to say something. You didn’t know if you even wanted to talk about it, not with her or anyone. You just wanted this to be over with.

“The procedure itself is straightforward, but it’s still a surgery. It’ll last anywhere from 10 to 20 minutes, with a little more time afterward for recovery. We’ll go over any complications with you once you’re here—risk of infection, bleeding, discomfort. We make sure you’re clear on what to expect before anything happens.”

You forced yourself to nod, then remembered she couldn’t see you. “Got it. I’ll—yeah, I’ll get the paperwork together.”

"Just one last thing," Amanda added, "Given the nature of the procedure, we ask that you bring a companion along, someone to stay with you. They don’t have to be in the room, of course, but they’ll need to be present to help you get back safely after."

Your hand stopped. A companion?

"What?"

The small sense of peace was gone in a heartbeat.

You wanted to tell her that it would be fine, you’d figure it out, because, rationally speaking, who could you ask or who would you even trust with this?

"It's a requirement,” Amanda clarified, “For your safety. You’ll need someone there with you. It’s non-negotiable.”

“Right. So, like… a friend? Or…” You trailed off, trying to hide the fear overcoming your senses.

“Exactly,” she said. “A friend, a family member—just someone you’re comfortable with. It’s standard procedure for anything this involved.”

A friend. Family. Someone who could sit in that waiting room and just… know everything. You didn’t even have anyone who could know you were pregnant, let alone be with you for this. 

“The total will be around $3,500, which we typically split into a down payment and a final balance due at the time of the procedure. We can take payment in cash, card, or even a wire transfer if you need that flexibility. We’ll also require a 20% deposit to hold your spot, which you can pay over the phone now or through our secure online portal.”

You glanced at the envelope where you’d jotted down notes, biting your lip as you stared at the numbers. “Right, um, yeah, I can do the deposit now.”

“That’s perfect. One moment, please.” There was a click as she transferred you, and while you waited, you blinked down at the deposit amount. 

Seven hundred, you thought. Seven hundred dollars just to hold a place. It was nothing to you and yet it felt monumental.

A robotic voice greeted you, and you keyed in the card information, watching the screen as it processed. The payment cleared, and you felt the strangest sense of finality.

It was real, stamped and sealed.

Amanda returned to the line, “Thank you for taking care of that. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

“No, that's all. Thank you."

“Of course. We’ll see you in ten days.”

Now you were at this god for saken country club brunch. Why you even came, you had no idea.

Maybe it was a pathetic attempt to feel normal. 

You were trying so hard to look casual, like you hadn’t just been on the phone with a stranger, scheduling the most personal appointment of your life.

Thankfully, Ruthie had canceled last minute — some emergency with your cousin, no doubt. Small miracles. The last thing you needed was her crazy ass analyzing everything you did.

The spread of food on the table looked like a minefield of smells.

Just the sight of the eggs benedict made you want to hurl on your seat, and the fruity smell of the mimosas wafting through the air was…torture.

You’d kill for a sip, maybe even two. 

You were watching the sunlight catch on the bubbles, sparkling like they were tauting you. The craving was there, whispering thoughts that felt equal parts impossible and unavoidable. The idea hovered, tempting you with a cruel promise.

A few mimosas could maybe make this go away, couldn't it? Maybe you’d get lucky and this nightmare would just end on its own.

But the thought made you sick.

You could almost feel it, this new life clinging to you, sticking around no matter how much you wished it’d leave. There was some echo of a moral sense—some annoying, reasonable, voice within your head that wouldn’t let you grab the damn mimosa even though your fingers were twitching for it.

What was the problem if you were getting rid of it anyway?

You forced yourself to look away from the mimosas, knowing that just one glass might make you feel something—anything—other than this sick dread.

With an effort, you forced yourself to say, “Water, please.”

Of course, the universe just had to have its laugh, because the one bringing it wasn’t just any waiter.

It was Sofia. 

How come everyone got a break from shitty things happening to them, and you didn’t?

You must’ve been really awful in your past life.

Perhaps you were one of those medieval villains who ordered people to be drawn and quartered, or some spoiled empress tossing servants into dungeons for looking at you wrong.

How else could you explain it? Life kept pilling more shit on top of you. Or maybe it was less about karma and more about some fucked up endurance test. You were still here.

Rafe’s latest… girlfriend? Hookup? Whatever the hell they were, she had that title, and now she was in front of you, all fresh-faced, her apron hugging her like she’d just walked out of some pinterest brunch board.

Her hair was pulled back in this cute little bun, and her face held that perfectly innocent smile that made you want to scream.

She was practically glowing. 

Her skin had that effortless, sun-kissed warmth like she’d just gotten back from the Maldives or something. Not a shadow under her eyes, not a single stray hair — just this easy, perfect beauty that looked even more surreal under the soft morning sunlight.

It was ridiculous.

Meanwhile, you felt like a mess. Dark circles, a slight breakout on your chin, and an overall look of someone who hadn’t slept in… weeks? or was it months?

The last good night before nausea became a part of your daily life, and the constant anxiety kept you up at all hours, staring at the ceiling and wishing it’d all just disappear.

And here she was, gliding around like she was untouched by anything so messy, so…human.

You glanced down at your outfit, the pristine, tailored Miu Miu set from the new collection —the cropped blazer was light and airy, perfectly cinched at the waist, with sleeves just long enough to make it feel sophisticated but breezy, paired with a sleek, high-waisted mini skirt, the whole ensemble skimmed your frame effortlessly, made just for you.

You knew you looked expensive, the kind of look people envied, even if they’d never admit it. 

Every stitch, every button on this outfit screamed privilege and class, and yet here you were feeling like some tragic, half-dead version of the old you.

Why the fuck were you even comparing yourself to her? She was still a pogue, for god’s sake.

Rafe’s latest toy or project or whatever, you had no business even wasting brain cells on her. So what if she looked a little too chipper, too perfect? 

She wasn’t worth the mental energy.

Just as you forced yourself to refocus, Sofia reappeared, setting a glass of water in front of you with that same innocent, syrupy smile.

“Here’s your water,” she chirped.

You hated that sound. 

She didn't look or sound in-your-face or territorial, more salt on an open wound.

Just hours ago, you were piecing together plans to get rid of the very thing that tied you to Rafe, and now here she was. 

You gave the glass a pointed look and then raised your eyes to meet hers. “I asked with ice.”

No, you didn’t.

You were supposed to be above this kind of petty bullshit, weren’t you? But the bitterness rooted in your gut like the mimosas you wanted so desperately.

“Oh?” Her face froze, that little smile twitching just a bit. “You did? I must’ve heard wrong. I’ll be right back with it.” She looked genuinely flustered as she turned to head back to the bar, her apron fluttering behind her. 

You caught yourself feeling the tiniest bit pathetic.

An unspoken vendetta against the girl serving water? Really? You almost felt a little ridiculous… almost.

“Oh, beautiful girl!”

It was Mrs. Aldridge, an old friend of your mother’s, all pearls and Chanel, her wrinkled hands wrapped around her mimosa.

“How’s your darling Rafe? I haven’t seen you two in ages!”

Instead of thinking better about it, your eyes slid over to Sofia.

She was setting the glass down, her face draining of color, frozen mid-action like a deer caught in headlights. It was almost too perfect.

You were gonna have fun with this, putting on your best sympathetic casually as if you’d had this conversation a hundred times. 

“Oh, we’re not together anymore,” you said, tone dripping with faux sweetness as you nodded in Sofia’s direction. “She is.”

Mrs. Aldridge’s eyes widened, almost bulging out of her head as she followed your gaze, putting two and two together with the slow, scandalized horror that only old-money kooks could manage.

You could hear her brain struggling to comprehend the fact that Rafe Cameron was now involved with the server.

The other women at the table leaned in, whispering behind manicured hands and designer sunglasses, eyebrows shooting up as they stole obvious glances at Sofia.

She was still standing there, stunned, her mouth opening like she wanted to say something. You half-expected her to look annoyed, maybe give you the scathing glare you’d be giving her all morning.

Instead she looked like she wanted to disappear into the woodwork.

“Oh dear…” Mrs. Aldridge’s voice trailed off, her eyes scanning her from head to toe with the kind of judgmental precision only years of country club experience could bring.

She cleared her throat as if she could somehow undo the fact that the help had captured Rafe Cameron’s attention.

“I suppose he’s… rebelling, then?” Another old lady muttered, eyebrows raised in suspicion, already delighted by the gossip forming on her tongue.

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Who knows? That’s Rafe for you.” 

You took a sip of your water, feeling satisfied as murmurs spread across the table, surprise and judgment all directed squarely at Rafe and Sofia, who looked like she might faint on the spot.

You couldn’t lie — it was the most fun you’d had in weeks.

“Such a sweet girl,” Mrs. Aldridge mused, her gaze fixed on Sofia, who was now engaging another table with her bubbly personality. “But bless her heart, she doesn’t quite belong here.”

“Definitely not,” you clicked your tongue, allowing the disdain to seep into your voice, even as a small part of you felt like a spineless bitch for feeding her to the sharks.

“New money, if you ask me. I can’t take them seriously. Remember when Ward was just a pogue with big dreams, trying to make a name for himself.”

You saw her again, just a gimplse of her still taking orders with that big grin, still doing her job.

This was exactly what you’d wanted, right?

To see her squirm in her hand-me-down shoes, to show her the world she’d trespassed on wasn’t as welcoming as she might have believed.

But your conscience decided to make an apperance, one more time, slipping in with a knowing sigh. You wanted to hurt Rafe, not her.

This was cruelty, plain and simple, the girl was only trying to survive.

She was dealing with these judgmental eyes and assumptions, probably used to being reminded that she didn’t belong, that she didn’t measure up, and you were sinking to that same level of entitlement and superiority.

The satisfaction wasn’t as sweet as you’d thought it would be. Dragging her into it was cheap, easy, like pushing someone off balance simply because they happened to be standing there.

You forced a giggle to match the others, playing the charade, but inside, something started to feel uncomfortable. You knew what it was like to be scrutinized, to have them pick you apart, to whisper behind your back.

You remembered how much it hurt.

To these people, you were only steps away from that same old judgment. If they knew about the appointment...their conservatives asses would ruin your reputation.

They’d tear into you in the same way, a scandal spread in manicured lawns and private golf courses.

Mrs. Aldridge leaned in conspiratorially, her aged perfume filling the air. “If he truly cared for her, he wouldn’t be making a fool of himself like this.” She sighed, looking at you like she expected you to agree.

You took a breath, one that felt painful, because were you really about to do this shit?

“It’s Rafe’s life,” you replied, shrugging. “Maybe she makes him happy. Who knows?”

The table quieted, a few eyebrows raised, flabbergasted that you hadn’t indulged in more snide remarks. At the end of the day, the life you wanted — it wasn’t this.

Maybe it was time to let some of it go.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

[yxtubers]

✮ 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 . . .

⤷ hamzahthefantastic x reader

🗒️ summary: hamzah and his weird obsession with manhandling you

warnings: some parts may be slight suggestive/nsfw. if you are under the age of 18, please proceed with caution. i do not take responsibility for what you consume online.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

from seeing the way he holds his cat to the way he lifts entire speakers up without a huff or a puff i can definitely see hamzah lightly manhandling his girlfriend

you’ll be sitting on the couch, comfy and cozy as you scroll through your phone or read a book and he’ll show up and just kind of maneuver you so that you’re laying in his lap or even sitting on him (because he wants to see what you’re looking at too)

neither of you can really pinpoint a specific place and time that it started, but one day he started and just never stopped. for example:

⤷ you were walking down the street with hamzah after meeting your friends for a birthday dinner. it wasn’t anything too fancy, but you had opted to wear heels for the occasion.

big mistake.

after hearing your complaints for a few blocks, hamzah pulled you by your conjoined hands to halt your movements, and in one big sweep, picked you up and carried you bridal style. your heart practically hammered out of your chest at the ease with which he scooped you up with. this was probably one of the first moments he had ever done that.

his favorite is grabbing you by the hips to haul you up onto the counter. not even necessarily for any nefarious reason, he just sets you there so you can watch him cook or reach for something on a high shelf.

that’s another thing. he never reaches for things that you’re not tall enough to grab yourself. most of the time he will literally just pick you up and place you on the counter or on his shoulder and help you reach stuff that way. idk why, he just prefers it.

if you’re about to walk into something, or trip, he’ll wrap his arms around your waist and lift you away from the danger before you hurt yourself. usually it’s met by a surprise yelp, which hamzah secretly loves.

⤷ “hamzah!”

“what? you were about to whack your head on that lampost.”

“you could’ve just told me.”

“nah. that’s boring.”

onto the juicy stuff. he does sometimes use his strength in the bedroom - but never to harm you or anything, he would never do that. he more-so just likes that it makes things easier sometimes.

like he can easily flip you onto your stomach or back if you need a change in position, or if you start to cramp up. it honestly just turns you on more; how easy it is for him to maneuver you.

or when he has you on your back, and he’s holding your legs open, he’ll sling one over his shoulder as he plows into you, holding you in place in case your muscles get tired. sometimes you feel like you don’t even need to do anything, it’s like his hands have a mind of their own.

though his personal favorite is when he gets to push your hips down and press your legs to your chest as he eats you out, your whines and squirms no match for his fingers that splay out over your warm skin as he spreads you apart.

- - -

©𝐲𝐱𝐭𝐮𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬

[henneseyhoe]

Sunshine

Aaron Pierre x BLACK!FEM!Reader

ORDER:Coffee (Smut) Tea (Fluff), Strawberry Cheesecake (Hair Pulling) , Jelly Filled Donut (Creampie) , Vanilla Beignet (Blind To Love) and a Brownie (Sunny vs Grumpy) served by Terry Richmond.

SUMMARY: Shitty jobs are made worth it cause pretty, funny girls exist!(ig idk chile)

The Bakery<3

✮✮✮✮

“How the hell do you deal with that?”

Was what people would ask Terry when they saw you two together. You were loud, anyone could hear your laugh from miles away and your smile radiated bright happiness that annoyed most, especially in your field of work. You were enthusiastic about nearly everything, seeing the bright side to dark situations that some just couldn’t bear. Maybe that’s why Terry held onto you the way he did. He even gave you the nickname ’Sunshine’ to show.

Everything that was listed, he indeed was not. He was not happy go lucky, he was not enthusiastic about things he had to do and he definitely wasn’t looking on the bright side, for reasons that could probably be justified.

When he was happy, it was mostly because of you. You were best friends (or he was definitely YOUR best friend) and working together in close proximity made it so much easier for Terry to get use to you. It was hard for Terry not to crack a smile when you were constantly in a good mood, bouncing off the walls. You found the spots in him that were soft and poked at them until he gave in, you learned his humor and kept him laughing when he didn’t want to.

He couldn’t lie, he was growing accustomed to being with you, he could even say he loved having you around (he would probably never say that out loud) . He just couldn’t help but feel a little warmth in his chest when you were near, butterflies in his stomach when you made eye contact with him. Little did he know, you felt the same.

Your heart beat down on your rib cage faster than it was on your first mission. You loved a challenge, and Terry was exactly that, testing your abilities to be professional, dangerous, light on your feet, but also keeping your brand of being the happy person you were.

Whenever Terry came into work, even if it was just to train, you were up in his face cracking jokes like you hadn’t just ran two miles. Of course because he was a rank higher than you, he use to send you on about your way the first few times, a little annoyed with your presence and attitude until realizing he couldn’t get rid of you even if he tried. You were everywhere and the crew was slowly growing a liking to you too.

You were like a leech, as he would describe. A cuddly and cute one, but a leech nonetheless.

Coming up on the date of the official homecoming for soldiers, it was time to head back to your respective states and you offered Terry a day to spend with just the two of you, enjoying the scenery of downtown and all it had to offer..as friends, Which he accepted after a huff (which was obviously faked, his ass was happy you asked) . Somehow, Terry found himself not wanting to leave when night had came. Something he had NEVER felt before, and he hated it. He hated that he knew it was because of you too, nothing else. Hell, he didn’t even like the state he was in, he was ready to go when he landed.

Babysitting a beer in your hand, you two sit close around the fireplace of your apartment, or what was yours till tomorrow.

“Feel like we been here forever” He breaks the silence, sipping on his drink while staring at the flicker of the fire in front of you both.

You shrug.

“It kinda has been? Seven months, two weeks, five days, and 21 hours is a long time!” You nod, Terry giving you a look before stifling out the chuckle he tried so hard not to free. You smile, satisfied at how easy it was to make him laugh now.

“So!…You ready to go home to the missus?”

Terry raises a brow, swallowing the bitter drink in his mouth. “Missus?”

You hum, waiting for an answer, but he never confirmed.

“Yeah. I mean, you never said anything about a wife or a kid, but I just assumed-“

“Never said because I don’t have” He interrupts, laughing. He couldn’t even imagine what about him gave husband. He didn’t wear a ring, on the right finger at least, and he thought the flirting he did confirmed him to be single already..Or what he thought was flirting. The making sure you ate and drank every day and teasing about how many push ups you could do didn’t really connect the dots for you. You were looking for a more forward approach considering he was a blunt man.

“What the hell about me made you think I was married with a kid?”

You laugh along with him to save yourself the embarrassment. Truthfully, you asked on purpose to see if he was single or not. To your surprise, no one had snatched him up yet.

“I-…I don’t know. I just see a nigga like you and just expect it” You respond, the palms of your hands already sweating. Your body was once again defying you, you felt like you were in highschool again.

Terry’s laugh shrunk until it was no more and his eyebrows rose at your statement. “A nigga like me?”

“…Yeah. Ya know…” You trail off, shyly looking away. By now regret had already set in your stomach for bringing up shit and snooping in his business. It would have been easier to search his name in the database and read his files, keeping your stalker shit on the low.

“Hm…Elaborate, sunshine. I wanna know what that mean” He presses, his squinted eyes searching for yours, but you refused to give in and see what may have been rejection.

“Look” You huff, shaking your head. “I just mean…You are a very handsome man, and I expected you to be…spoken for? Can you even say spoken for when talking about a man?”

You both laugh, but tension was still thick in the air, you just didn’t know what kind of tension it would turn to. Whether sexual or awkward tension, your nerves were getting worse by the second.

Terry on the other hand seemed cool as a cucumber, his tongue subtly tracing the rim of his beer bottle as he thought to himself before taking his last drink, finishing the beverage off.

“I don’t think so, but still. I appreciate that…so”

“So…”

He tilts his head. You could see it all from your peripheral view. His strong presence demanded attention from you. It was like that while working and it happened to never change outside of it.

“You aren’t spoken for?” He asks, his shoulder softly bumping yours to pull an answer quicker.

You shake your head, simultaneously setting down your bottle.

“Not since a year ago. Maybe if it was possible to pack a niggas dick with you when you leave for work, it wouldn’t be inside your bestfriend, right?”

“…You shittin’ me?” He leans, almost shocked that anyone would dare to cheat on you. Not only because of the person you were on the inside, but also because you could be classified as a high threat even while ass naked. That’s just the type of woman he wouldn’t cross, even at his rank.

“Nope, deadass”

“Damn..” He mumbles. “Whatever nigga out here silly enough to let little miss sunshine walk the earth without being right behind her need his ass beat. Shit, i’ll do it for you actually”

You giggle. “You’re silly”

“Nah, I’m serious”

Who knew that conversation alone would end with you getting ate out by someone you considered a friend, someone who you looked up to just a little, someone who just admitted he’d fuck somebody up for you…maybe giving it up was justifiable.

On the couch with your legs spread to each side, you forced yourself to open your eyes and bask in reality as Terry began the journey of taking you apart and putting you back together again. He placed soft kisses around your lips and on your clit before he licked long strings from your entrance, then sucked, earning a soft gasp from you.

His hands gripped your thick thighs while holding them apart, his strength not allowing you to hide from him at all. He wanted to taste all you had to offer, his tongue doing all the hard work slithering inside of your warm walls as his nose nudged your clit. You tensed up with every nudge, watching as he freely put his face in it. He made it messy enough to admire when he pulled his mouth off of you, your pussy glistening like he just doused you in oil.

“Look at that, mmm” There was a grumble that came deep from within his throat. His green eyes on you made it so hard not to be bothered even with him not doing anything, your poor clit jumping with excitement as he spread your lips open.

“She happy to see me, huh?”

You moan and nod eagerly, bringing your hand to your mouth to suck on a finger. Terry smiles at that, sharp teeth flashing from under his lips. He just wanted to bite you all over.

“Yeah, I know. When the last time you had some?”

“I-I don’t remember” And you truly couldn’t. Nothing worth remembering.

“Yeah? Imma make sure you remember this shit” He ends off with a bite to your thigh, almost as if he was warning you for what’s to come before he dove back into your heat, slurping up your soaked clit. Your belly was doing summersaults, you could barely contain your volume. It seemed Terry didn’t care about his.

When he ate, he made noise. He moaned, grunted, groaned. He was having just as much fun as you.

Your legs had began to shake the longer he was down there, your hands gripping onto the top of his white tank since that was all you had to hold on to after he practically ripped your oversized shirt off of you beforehand, and you feared ruining the couch if you got to pulling on it.

“Yes, yes, yes! I’m so close” You struggled to keep your eyes on him even with his staring back up at you, low lidded and dark. They beckoned you to stay, but pleasure had came rolling through like natural disaster and wiped all thought from your brain, leaving you a shaking, blubbering mess.

His mouth pulled off of you and his hand moved in place of it, rubbing your clit in tight circles.

“Feel it, baby. Let it happen” He coos as you fight against his hand, thighs closing around his wrist which he just smacked away and kept at it until he felt he was done.

“Stop moving, let that shit happen, baby”

You felt like you were literally about to float to heaven, back arching up off of the couch just to get away from the overstimulation.

“Okay! Fuck!”

He moves his hand and allows you to go through the motions, twitching until that special feeling left your center. “Good job, pretty girl” A kiss from him was placed beside your opened mouth as heavy breathing left you.

He gave you time to recover while undressing himself, items of clothing fluttering to the ground until he was in nothing but his shorts.

Your eyes never left his length as it bobbed out of the bottoms. You hadn’t even noticed there was nothing under the shorts till now..So all of that print you were eyeing was all him. He was nothing little, nothing that you had ever seen before and it almost made you ask if that was all of it, hoping he had added something extra, if possible. You wanted to taste him, to lick up the dribbling precum from his tip and test if you could take him in your mouth first, but Terry desperately wanted to be inside you. You protested, pulling him in and stroking his shaft to solicit him into going your way, but he was stern, nearly completely ignoring your advances and lifting you to your feet.

You yelped, legs wobbly from your first orgasm, but you had no need to worry about falling because you were lifted off of your feet as fast as you got on them.

“D-don’t drop me!”

You begged, holding onto him while he bounced you to catch you in the right position to fuck you good, your legs swinging over his arms and his hands cupping your soft ass.

“I gotchu, baby”

He reassured as he kisses your lips. You could smell and taste yourself all on him, slightly sweet and herbal from the beer. All while sucking on his tongue, you felt the tip of him swipe against your entrance, your heart beating so hard in your chest that you were convinced he could hear it, and it was the same for him. He couldn’t wait to feel you, to be connected in other ways than just conversation and friendship. He longed to know what it would be like, and when he got a taste, there was no turning back from then on. Not that he would want to, anyway.

There was no way you were getting away from him. You were strong, but Terry was strong. The man trained relentlessly and always being on his toes payed off at work and apparently in the bedroom too.

Your thighs ached with a burning sensation as he bounced you on his long dick effortlessly, the tip of him kissing your cervix ever so slightly, but he knew good enough not to hit it dead on, fearing hurting you in the process. You appreciate the thoughtfulness, seeing as you were already losing the part of your brain that made thought out decisions.

“So fucking deep!”

You cried out weakly, nails scratching down his broad shoulders, creating red streaks he’d try to hide with a long sleeve the morning after, the feeling of you still dancing on his tongue as he got dressed. He grunts, palms squeezing the fat of your ass as his pace never seemed to falter. He was determined to get you there. To feel you cum around his dick so hard that the neighbors would wonder if you were hurt, that they would think about calling the cops just to check on you.

“Cmon, baby. You a big girl, take this dick like I know you can” He encouraged you sweetly, voice unshaken and stable as if the ribbon of release in the pit of his stomach wasn’t threatening to come undone, spilling his seed deep inside of you.

It wasn’t long until he decided to change the position and lay you on your stomach instead, a soft pillow placed underneath your hips to make sure you could meet his height and your ass stayed up right for him. Before he entered back into your warmth, he took his time to spread your cheeks and licking up whatever your pussy had started to drip, earning whiny, pathetic mewls from you.

He licked from your clit to the winking rim of your asshole, the tip of his tongue circling around it before going back down to your sensitive bud, teasingly suckling on it softly.

You drooled into your sheets. You knew you looked so damn stupid right now, but you couldn’t help it with how he was turning you every way but loose.

“Taste so fucking good”

He says from behind you, fully standing now with a hand in your silk press and the other laid directly in the middle of your back to help that arch. He didn’t even have to guide his dick into you, you were so wet and open for him already that all he did was wind his hips back to line up with you and push forward.

You could swear your breath was being sucked out of your lungs with each inch he dropped into you. It felt so good that you could almost ignore him pulling on your hair, forcing your head back to meet him for a slow, nasty kiss.

“Fuck- My hair, Terry!” You whined against his plump lips, one of your hands reaching for his wrist, but the tugging only made it worse for you. The sharp stinging in your scalp oddly satisfied something within you, your clit twitching at the newfound feeling.

“Fuck it. I’ll pay for it” He grunts, his teeth tugging at the bottom of your lip.

You both kissed with teeth and all as he fucked you, your ass loudly clapping back on his toned body with every thrust. He felt every motion of it, the waves clashing with his hips so mesmerizing that he couldn’t help but wanna stare.

As he pulled away from your lips, he opted to grab a hold of your throat instead, your moans immediately getting caught.

He made sure to grab you by the part where it was safe to hold, safe enough to where you could still breathe a little, but still got the sensation to feel held.

“Why-“ You managed to choke out, yet you couldn’t finish a sentence.

He cracked an almost cocky smile then moaned out a curse, his dick violently throbbing inside of you and reaching beyond what you thought was gonna be his limit.

“Why what? Spit it out, ma” He teased, his low cut nails almost scratching up the side of your throat when his thrusts got more fluid, the man putting way more wine into every collision.

You began to cry out, him muffling them slightly by letting go of you and pushing your head down into the bed. He only fucked you harder when your arch fell with your hips, your legs giving out as your pussy cried right along with you.

This position had you feeling everything. From the tip of him grazing your gspot to the veins that traveled up his dick and massaged your walls, giving you texture that you never felt before.

Him demanding a word out of you was like speaking to a brick wall. You had already came without warning, now you were just wetting up the sheets with incoherent words spilling from your mouth. He imagined you fucked out under him like this plenty of times before but he never knew it’d feel and look this good.

“Shit! Keep doing that and imma cum” He warns, but that’s exactly what you wanted. You wanted to feel him fill you up to the point you were leaking. You began purposely clenching around him, the first squeeze prompting him to lay a smack on your ass, and the second one making his hips stutter against you. He could feel himself becoming lighter, a swirl of heat blooming in the bottom of his stomach.

“Nut in this pussy, baby. Let me feel it, please” You begged hopelessly, doing your best to keep a good hold on his dick until he released with a loud groan, grinding his hips into your ass. You could feel each and every spurt of his cum being released inside you, warmth and fullness is what laid in the bottom of your belly.

“Mmm, fuck” His hips bucked one last time before he was pulling out with a grunt, large hands gripped on your ass and spreading you apart to see what he had done to you.

“So pretty. Push it out” He demanded, and you abided by it, pushing his cum out of you until you no longer felt full.

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💌- I’m criiine, this was supposed to be a headcannon too- LMFAOAOA. and yall wonder why i take so long, lawd. i told yall, i cannot do shit right smh. Anyway! i hope you liked this, homegirl 😭 i also managed to get this out before my first college class so hallelujah! *does ring shout*. also this was the longest smut i wrote in a whiiile lmfao. a whole 3k+ words so yaaay! eb clap for henny and wish her luck on this class 😋

[joelscruff]

imperfect for you (joel miller x f!reader)

masterlist | a/n written for @janaispunk's 1500 kisses challenge! i got joel + nose kisses with this lovely moodboard and actually managed to write something!!! believe it or not this started out as a drabble lmao. i hope you like it jana - sorry it's a bit late, and congrats again on your milestone 🤍 summary: you never thought joel miller would accidentally call you baby. warnings: age gap (joel is mid 40s, reader is 23), fluff, very brief instance of blood, tending to a wound, joel is eepy, soft kisses, cuddles word count: 5.5k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics

"When's the last time you slept?"

He doesn't bother to grace you with an answer, hands clenched on the steering wheel as you barrel down the vacant stretch of highway back to Lincoln. He's been ignoring you for the past fifteen minutes now, eyes straight ahead, brow furrowed, jaw clenched. But he looks pale, almost sickly, the whites of his knuckles stark against the sudden greenish hue of his skin. The last thing you need is for him to pass out and for the two of you to crash into a damn ditch.

"I'm just saying," you continue with an exasperated sigh, "I could drive the rest of the way, we're almost there."

No reply. You roll your eyes and cross your arms indignantly in the passenger seat, returning his icy demeanor. He's in one of his moods again, the ones only Tess really knows how to handle, but you'd volunteered to try your hand at a supply run in her stead which means she's not here to mediate. You should've known some issue would arise, stubborn Joel inventing problems in typical Joel fashion.

"You could've tried to last at least one more hour pretending to like me," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear. He doesn't say anything.

Almost a year of working with them now, and you still don't understand him. You're not sure you ever will. Tess, she's much easier to understand, much more open to being understood. She'd seen your potential and taken you under her wing, brought you in to help, taught you everything you needed to know about smuggling. And Joel... well, he's a different story.

"You know, Tess thinks I have promise," you continue anyway, expression crumpling into a scowl, "She thinks I can do this. I don't get why you don't."

No answer.

"And don't say it's 'cause I'm a kid, because I'm not. I'm twenty three now, I'm past the point of being called a fucking kid. The shit I've seen in that QZ-" you cut yourself off, shaking your head, "I'm not a kid."

His lack of response is beginning to hurt deeper than you'd really like to admit. You glance over at him again; he's still staring straight ahead, still ignoring your presence. It makes unwanted tears prick in your eyes, nose stinging a little as you peer down at your lap and fold your hands together.

You'd been excited for this supply run, probably against your better judgement. You'd wanted to show him how much you know and understand, how hard you've been working, how you're up to the task. Hoped maybe he'd give you a smile - rare, but not impossible - and tell you that you did good, that he sees potential in you too.

You care what he thinks, almost more than what Tess thinks. And you know why, can sense it deep in the pit of your stomach and in the way your heart stutters when he looks at you, but you're clearly living in a fantasy world if you think he's ever gonna get past whatever this stigma is that he has against your age. She's too young, Tess. She'll get hurt, Tess. She shouldn't be doin' this, Tess. You've heard it all, muffled through closed doors in a dark and damp hallway.

He doesn't want you, and you're not sure how much longer you can go on like this. If he's not willing to change his stance, view you as anything other than an inconvenience...maybe Tess will have to find somebody else to help out.

"I know what I'm doing," you mumble, a tear dribbling down your left cheek, "I just wanna help."

You spare him one more look, fruitlessly hoping that maybe he'll feel bad now that he's made you cry - a childish thought, considering you're trying to make a case for being mature, but you can't help it. You know he's capable of being gentle, of being kind. You've experienced it with him before, quiet moments between the two of you in his apartment while waiting for Tess to return, making small talk, him peering at you with a softness in those brown eyes that have since made frequent appearances in your dreams. Moments where you swear you felt wanted under that gaze, but it must've been in your head, because you certainly don't feel wanted right now.

He doesn't look well, you have to admit. His skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, getting paler by the second, turning an unnatural grey color akin to some of the hair on his head. His eyes are glassy, dark bags settled beneath them that you've noticed getting worse and worse over the past few weeks. You shoot a glance at his hands again and are surprised to see that he's loosened his grip, that his fingers seem to be trembling against the rubber.

"Joel," you say, raising your voice a bit, "Joel, are you okay?"

His lack of response no longer angers you - it worries you. Carefully, you reach over and slowly wrap your hand around his right wrist, eyes trained on his face. At your touch, he finally turns to look at you, almost like he's only just noticed you're even there.

"You say somethin'?" he asks, voice raspy, a bit slurred.

Your grip tightens on his wrist, "I think you should stop the car."

He looks at you curiously, dazedly. It's the expression of a man who's running on two, maybe three hours of sleep in the last few days. You choose your next words carefully, eyes flickering back and forth toward his face and the road that he's suddenly no longer watching.

"Let's slow down a bit," you murmur, thumb stroking gently along his skin - he's warm, warmer than normal - "I'm gonna drive the rest of the way, okay?"

You expect some pushback, an attempt at an argument, but the tiredness is setting in quickly. Without any hesitation he eases his foot off the gas and you hurriedly reach your own leg over into his space to push down on the brake. He doesn't seem to notice the way your bare leg brushes his jeans, the crease in your knee bending over the warmth of his thigh.

"There we go," you say softly, bringing the car to a slow stop. He's still looking at you, eyes unfocused as you carefully lean over a little more to unbuckle his seatbelt. You try to ignore how good he smells, how big he is compared to you, putting all your attention on getting him out of the front seat. You unlock his door and then unbuckle your own belt, hurrying out of the car to his side.

"M'okay," he mumbles as soon as you open his door. You start to help him out, and you think he's becoming a little more aware of the situation now, allowing you to pull him to his feet as you tug open the back door. "What's happenin'?"

"You're just tired," you tell him softly, "It's okay, you can sleep in the back, I'll drive."

"Bill n' Frank's," he says as you lead him the right way, pushing him a little and helping him place his knee down on the seat, "Y'know where it is? You remember?"

"I do," you tell him confidently, your hand coming down to press flat against his back - he's so solid, heat radiating against your palm, "Only twenty minutes away now, I got it. You just sleep."

He doesn't argue; in fact, he makes your job easier by crawling onto the seat and settling down with a low groan, rolling onto his back and breathing deeply. You can't help but let a small smile cross your features, watching as one of his hands comes up to rest atop his belly, the other dangling onto the floor. His eyelashes flutter a little, lips parting, and you're about to shut the door when he speaks again.

"I know you jus' wanna help, baby."

You stand there for a moment just staring at him, confusion racing through your thoughts. Goosebumps rise on your flesh as the last word repeats like a mantra in your head, steady and slow as Joel drifts off. It's only when the door is shut and you're in the front seat that you're able to put some meaning to the words, eyes wide as you stare at the faded lines on the road.

I know what I'm doing, you'd said, I just wanna help.

You leave him in the car when you get to Bill and Frank's, typing in the gate code with a backward glance at his loose form in the backseat. They must see him on one of the security monitors, because as soon as the doors open you spot them sprinting out of the house toward you, a scanner gripped in Bill's hand. Typical.

"He's okay," you tell them as soon as you're out of the car, instantly alleviating their stress, "He's just exhausted, I think he needs to sleep for a little while."

"Understatement of the century," Frank replies with a relieved laugh, eyeing the backseat, "Think we can get him in the house?"

"Just leave him in the car," Bill says with a wave of his hand, already turning to head back towards the house with the scanner hanging out of his pocket, "He'll be fine."

Your gaze meets Frank's and he rolls his eyes, "Come on, baby, let's get him upstairs." Your brows go up at the pet name, the same word that had fallen from Joel's lips only twenty minutes ago, but then Bill is shuffling back over with an annoyed look on his face and you quickly realize he's not talking to you.

Getting Joel out of the car proves to be a lot more difficult than getting him in. You try a gentle approach at first, brushing his arm and stroking his skin with your thumb again like you'd done earlier. You can feel Frank's eyes on you as you squeeze Joel's bicep, his wrist, his thigh, and you pretend you don't see the look that passes between him and Bill as you step out to let them take a turn.

Bill goes for a much more aggressive approach, shaking Joel's shoulders wildly and practically yanking him out of the car. Understandably, Joel wakes with a gasp and kicks his legs out, hand reaching for his pistol as he frantically tries to escape Bill's grasp. Before he can grab it though, he's suddenly falling forward, knees buckling as he faceplants onto the pavement beside the car.

Well, that certainly wakes him up. His hands press into the gravel and his head shoots up, blood trickling down his nose as he peers up at the three of you, stunned.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Bill," Frank groans.

"That was not my fault."

Ignoring them, you kneel down and gently touch Joel's shoulder, a concerned look on your face as you eye the splattered blood on the ground, "Fuck, are you okay?"

"What in the hell is goin' on?" he groans, turning to look at you, "Did Bill just break my fuckin' nose?"

"Don't be dramatic," Bill barks, spinning on the spot and heading into the house, "Shoulda just left you in the car."

Joel starts scrambling after him, rising up and standing on wobbly legs, hand reaching for his pistol once again. You and Frank grab him before he can do anything, both of you taking an arm and holding him back.

"Joel, you're exhausted," you tell him quickly, utilizing all your strength, "You just need to lay down. Please."

He turns his face to look at you and something flutters in your chest when you catch the way his eyes soften, the anger in his expression fading as he acknowledges your presence. You can vaguely make out Frank watching the two of you in your periphery, but you try your best to ignore it, instead opting to give Joel a reassuring smile.

"Let's just get you cleaned up, okay?"

You're grateful that Frank leaves you alone with Joel to tend to his nose. You've only met him a handful of times, but each time he'd somehow been able to clock the way you interact with Joel, the way you look at him. The last time you'd been here he'd subtly pulled you aside to give you a few words of wisdom.

"You do realize he's extremely unavailable, right?"

"I- I don't know what you're talking about."

He'd smiled, tapped his nose and given you a knowing look, "And I don't just mean because of Tess. That man is emotionally constipated, kiddo. He's an island." He'd laughed then at your confused expression, shaking his head, "Just be careful, s'all I'm saying."

You'd gone to walk away, forget the conversation even happened, when he'd softly called after you:

"And I'm pretty sure Tess would hang your head on her wall."

You think of those words now as you stand in front of Joel in the small bathroom off the landing, lip between your teeth as you eye the cut on his nose. It isn't broken, thank fuck, but you can see some dirt and gravel in there that you need to clean out.

"It's not broken," you tell him softly. He's sitting on the edge of the bath tub, peering up at you with a much more alert expression. The fall definitely woke him up, not to mention the choice words he and Bill had thrown at each other as you and Frank helped him up the stairs. He's still exhausted though, and he needs to rest.

"I know it's not," he grumbles, "Just wanted to give Bill a piece of my mind for once."

You laugh softly as you reach for the damp cloth beside you, bringing it up to carefully pat it against the gash on the bridge of his nose. You can feel his eyes on you, watching and assessing as you do your best to wipe the area clean.

"I can do that myself," he murmurs.

"I just wanna help," you say quietly, and your eyes fall to his in a knowing glance. He doesn't seem to remember though, just nods and lets you carry on.

It's rare for you to be this alone with him. And by that, you mean this far from Tess. You're painfully aware that it would be impossible for her to walk in at any moment, to see the way you're standing over him, touching him. Frank's words from last time echo in your head but you're not quite sure you believe them; would she really be that angry if she knew how you felt about Joel? It's not like he'd return it, right? The man is twenty years your senior and, as Frank said, extremely unavailable. Not to mention Tess and Joel's relationship has been a point of confusion to you for a year now, still unsure exactly what they are to each other - would she really care?

You reach for the antiseptic - one of the many perks of having an injury in a supply house - and carefully dab some onto the cloth. Your hand trembles a bit as you reach up to carefully hold Joel's chin, your thumb getting lost in his greying beard.

"You haven't shaved in a while," you breathe, your eyes meeting his, and you wonder if you've already crossed a line by even noticing.

He doesn't seem to mind though, sighing deeply, "I haven't slept in a while, so let's hurry this up," he eyes the cloth, "Don't gotta warn me, just do it."

His words bring you back to the present, and you slowly ease the cloth down onto his cut. He hisses a bit, a normal reaction, but it only takes a few seconds to clean and then you're already reaching for a bandage, reluctantly letting go of his chin.

"I was worried about you, before. In the car," you tell him softly, unpeeling the adhesive, "Why haven't you been sleeping?"

His eyes fall to the floor, "I just don't sleep good. Never have."

"Is there anything I can do?"

He shrugs, gives you a humorless laugh, "Handful o' pills and a couple sips o' whiskey usually does the trick."

It makes sense, then, why these past few weeks he's seemed worse. It's been longer than usual since your last supply run and the three of you had started running out of vital supplies over a week ago now, not only for buyers but for yourselves. Joel had written whiskey near the top of the latter list, along with hydromorphone which he'd underlined several times.

"You should've told me you weren't feeling well," you murmur, applying the bandage carefully, "I could've driven the whole way."

"Could've, should've," he dismisses you with a grunt, "Doesn't matter now, does it? We got here, that's what counts."

You linger a little longer than you should on the bandage, thumb falling to gently trace the crease of his nose as you assess your work. It might scar, but it feels pointless to voice this - he already has so many, scattered across his face and neck like confetti. It hurts a little, knowing he's been through so much, seeing the evidence written all over him.

"My mom had this superstition," you tell him softly, a smile playing at your lips as you trace one of the scars under his eye, soft and delicate, "Whenever I got hurt, skinned my knee or busted my elbow playing, she'd bandage me up and then kiss it. She said a kiss would seal her love in there, keep me safe and protected. And if it scarred, that meant it worked."

He blinks at you, expression faltering a bit, "That's...that's a nice thought."

You shake your head, "It's silly, and not true. But... but I still do it anyway, even though she's gone. Just in case," you bite your lip, "I mean, who doesn't wanna feel a little more safe? A little more protected?"

Your gazes lock, and neither of you seem to move, caught in the stillness of the moment and the way your thumb is still stroking his face. You know you have limited time, maybe a few seconds before he breaks it, so without much thought at all you lean down and lightly press your lips to the bandage, eyes closed.

He inhales sharply, a sound that triggers butterflies in your tummy as you hold your mouth against his nose, soft and sweet. It's the closest you've ever been to him, even if you're kissing gauze and not skin - you can still feel the warmth radiating from him, sense the way he freezes below you. A squeaking sound pierces the silence, his hand squeezing the edge of the bath tub tightly. It startles you, your eyes blinking open as you pull back to look at him.

His cheeks are tinged pink, eyelids heavy as he peers up at you with slow blinks.

"You're tired," you breathe, unable to stop your hand from flitting to his hair, pushing a little behind his ear, "Let's get you to bed."

The Joel Miller in Bill and Frank's guest room is not the Joel Miller you thought you knew.

This Joel is loose, pliant. He lets you lead him into the bedroom with a hand on his back, lets you carefully turn him on the spot to reach up and undo the buttons on his flannel. Frank had told you on your way up to make sure Joel didn't get blood on the sheets, so you're only following orders, only doing what you were told.

"Sorry," you murmur softly, fingers shaking every so often as they toy with the buttons, sticky with his blood. Joel doesn't seem to notice though, retreating more and more into the sleepy state he'd been in earlier.

Once his flannel is off you assess his t-shirt and jeans, and you're not sure how to feel about the fact that they didn't get dirty in the fall. On the other hand, though, you're not sure you'd have been brave enough to take them off. Instead you help him toward the bed, pull back the sheets and carefully push him ahead.

"There you go," you whisper, helping him under the covers and pulling the blankets back over him. The sun is streaming through the window, casting the golden light of early evening across the bed, and while it's quite beautiful you shut the curtains anyway, knowing he'll sleep better in darkness. When you turn back around, he's already fallen asleep, lips parted, face peaceful. A different man.

You don't linger, even though you want to.

It's around ten o'clock when you decide to check on him again. You'd watched a movie with Bill and Frank, feeling more than a little unwelcome as Bill tossed you a few dirty looks every so often, though Frank repeatedly told you to ignore him. Now they're in bed downstairs while you pad from your own room across the hall to Joel's, turning the knob carefully. The hinges squeak a little as you open it and you wince.

"Who's there?" you hear Joel grumble from the bed. So much for just taking a peek.

"Me, just me." You push the door wider and walk inside, eyebrows going up when Joel turns on the bedside lamp. He seems a little more rested, although you know he still needs a full night's sleep. "I sent a message to Tess through the radio to let her know we're not coming back tonight - well, Frank did. Picked a song called Tomorrow or something like that."

"Hope it was the Johnny Mathis version," he mumbles, and you watch as he brings his hands up to rub across his face. He accidentally dismantles the bandage and you step forward without really thinking, hurrying to his side and reaching down to fix it.

His hand comes up to grab yours and you freeze in place.

"I can do it," he says, giving you a curt look and then releasing your hand to adjust the gauze himself.

Well, you suppose lax and sleepy Joel couldn't stick around forever. You stand awkwardly by the side of the bed, toying with the edge of the blanket as he rubs his eyes and sits up a little, leaning back against the headboard. He looks so much older in this light; you can see the little flecks of grey in his beard and hair that have been starting to get more noticeable lately, the crows feet, the wrinkles.

He's so handsome.

He turns to look at you with a frown, as if he's only just realizing what you said, "We can go back tonight, I'm fine."

"You're not and you know it. Besides, it's already past ten and now I'm tired, I won't be able to drive."

"I can drive."

"Joel," you surprise yourself by sitting down on the edge of the bed, narrowing your brow as you give him a serious look, "You can't drive. You almost fucking killed us both."

"No I-"

"Yes you did," your tone is firm, suddenly angry - are you angry? - "If I hadn't been talking to you, if I hadn't noticed something was wrong, you would've driven us off the damn road."

He goes quiet at that, frown deepening, the lines on his face more prominent in the low lamplight. You sigh, eyes falling to rest on where your hand is settled on the bed, only inches from his. Part of you wants to reach out and touch, feel the warmth of his skin, the rough of his palm - the other part decides to do something even more stupid.

"You called me baby."

It's out of your mouth before you've even really acknowledged it, and once the words have tumbled out you know there's no taking them back. Your gaze snaps back up to his, slightly surprised to see that he doesn't seem very shocked by your admission.

He clears his throat a little, averting his gaze and shuffling a bit under the covers, "Did I?"

"...Yeah."

You think maybe he'll say something else - anything else - but he doesn't. God, it really is like pulling teeth with him; he's so fucking beautiful but so impossible, never being able to expand on something unless prompted, never being able to answer a single question without jerking you around first. How the fuck has Tess managed to deal with it for so long?

The thought of Tess sends a wave of guilt through your body, Frank's words echoing in your head, but you shove it down.

"What made you... I mean why..." your voice is soft, apprehensive and shy in the quiet of the bedroom, "why'd you call me baby?"

A beat of silence. Then-

"Don't ask me that."

The mood has shifted, your sudden anger ebbing and his annoyance fading into something else, something on the brink of being real. He's avoiding your eyes, peering at the window with the curtains drawn and tapping his fingers anxiously against the mattress, so close to your hand. He's nervous; you're making him nervous.

You stay silent, hoping he'll speak again, hoping maybe just this one time he'll tell you what he's thinking.

"I don't know why."

The words are barely a whisper, almost like he's telling you a secret, and he leaves them hanging in the air briefly before amending - "Well," he sighs and finally looks at you, an emotion you can't place crossing his features, "that's not true. But... I didn't mean - fuck, I was passin' out, for Christ's sake, I didn't realize-"

He cuts himself off again, raising his hand up to press his fingers to the bridge of his nose, briefly forgetting the bandage. He winces when he comes in contact with the gauze, "Can I take this off? It's drivin' me fuckin' crazy."

"Let me do it," you say quietly, inching forward on the bed and reaching for his face. He flinches when you go to touch him, and your hand freezes mid-air.

"Sorry," he mutters, shaking his head like he's shaking off a sensation, a chill, "Go ahead."

With careful - and slightly trembling - fingers, you remove the bandage from his nose. It looks much better than before, no fresh blood in sight, and you suppose it's okay for him to keep it uncovered for the night. Without really thinking about it you gently thumb the side of his nose just shy of the cut, the tips of your other fingers brushing against his cheek.

"It's not too bad," you murmur, and before you know it you're suddenly cupping his jaw, feeling the weight of it in your palm. Your gaze falls to his lips, your thoughts going a mile a minute.

You realize you're close enough that you could kiss him, if you really wanted to. If he really wanted to. All it would take is one small movement, one little push from the both of you, one leap of faith...

And then he whispers your name, almost a warning, and it's like his thoughts are mirroring yours - like he can see exactly what you're picturing, wishing for. Your eyes meet his and you feel a flutter in your stomach when you see the way he's looking at you, a quiet hunger hidden in the deep brown.

You decide to test the waters. You lean in and softly press another kiss to his nose, this time without the gauze in the way. Just like you'd thought, his skin is hot under your lips, soft but scarred, and his smell - god, he smells so masculine and safe, invading your senses as your lips trail downwards to press a small kiss to his cupid's bow, then another to the corner of his mouth. It's sharp, prickly from his scruff, but it doesn't bother you in the slightest - in fact, you kind of like the dull pain, the way it grounds you, keeps you in the moment.

"Baby," he whispers, and a soft little whine falls from your lips without meaning to as your lips move to ghost across his mouth, going for another kiss - a real kiss.

He pulls away before you get there, but then his hand comes up to touch your face, big and wide. He holds you like you're precious, small. His baby.

"S'not right," he whispers, though his thumb strokes your cheek soothingly, "S'not okay for me to want you like that."

You close your eyes at his touch, breathing deeply, "But you do."

"Yeah, I do," you hear him murmur, "You know I do."

"For how long?"

He doesn't respond right away, just continues to stroke your cheek, hold what feels like all of you in his warm palm. You tilt your head a bit to the side, eyes fluttering open to look at him again. You catch the way his lips turn up a little at the movement.

"Too damn long," he sighs, "But that don't... that's not..." he brings his other hand up to cup the other side of your face, holding you still as he peers at you in earnest, brow furrowed, "Point is, we shouldn't... you shouldn't be out here alone with me. Tess knows how I-" he cuts himself off again, and you can see now how difficult it is for him to communicate like this, to be open and honest, "I told her it wasn't a good idea."

"Why?"

He laughs lightly, thumbs circling the apples of your cheeks, "'Cause look where we ended up." He swallows, eyes falling to your lips, "Look where you are right now, baby. Look where my damn hands are for cryin' out loud."

"Keep calling me baby," you breathe, a desperation in your voice that betrays your emotions, tears pricking in your eyes as the weight of this conversation comes crashing down around you. He wants you - he's always wanted you. His words to Tess about not wanting to put you in danger, wanting you to stay away, those soft looks you've shared in his apartment, the small talk, all of it - it's because he wants you.

"We can't do this," he murmurs, leaning in to press his forehead to yours, eyes closing, "I can't do this, you're so- you're too-" he groans, fingers digging into your hair, "You're so young, baby."

"I don't care," you whine, butting your head forward to chase his lips, suddenly yearning to be kissed and held and protected by him, be wrapped in his embrace.

But he pulls away, removing his hands from your face and shuffling back a bit on the bed, away from you. Your hand drops but you reach out pathetically for him anyway, moving closer, attempting to pull the covers back. His hands capture yours and he squeezes them firmly, shaking his head.

"You need to go back to your room," he tells you, and his tone has changed from soft to serious, "It's late and I'm... well, you know I'm fuckin' exhausted. And you've had a long day." He looks at you with pleading eyes, like he's silently begging for you not to put him in this situation, "Let's just call it a night, okay?"

"But-" you start, tears shining in your eyes.

"Please," he breathes, "Please don't make this harder than it needs to be."

You do not want to get up from his bed. But you do.

You do not want to leave his room. But you do.

You do not want to lie awake in your own bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how his hands felt on your face, the way his eyes searched yours, the way his skin felt under your lips.

But you do.

You lie there for hours, thumbs twiddling against your belly, tears trickling down your cheeks every so often. All you can hear in your mind over and over again is the word Baby, punctuated by that soft groan he'd made, the way his thumbs had stroked your cheeks, how large and warm and safe he'd seemed in that bed.

All you want to do is be in that bed with him.

So it's no surprise when, as the sun is beginning to rise and that warm golden light starts to stream through your window, you crawl out from under your blankets and cross the hall one more time.

"We shouldn't" he murmurs when you climb into bed with him, when you tuck yourself into his side and bury your face in his shoulder, but his hands are already in your hair, fingers stroking along the back of your head.

Your bodies mold together like they've always been meant to fit that way, your legs tangled with his, arms trapped under big biceps and hairy forearms, breasts flush with his suddenly bare chest.

"I wanna be your baby," you whisper.

The nose you'd kissed brushes slowly up and down the side of your face, and he doesn't hesitate this time. He reaches up to turn your head, presses his lips against yours and lets you melt into him. Lets you trail your hand downward to unbutton his jeans in the silence of the early morning.

"You already are."

[persephonesdreams21]

Sweet Tooth

A/N: Well let me say first and foremost. My bad guys. Lol I didn't mean to keep this rotting in my drafts for almost a year, but life got crazy. I hope you guys enjoy this

Warnings: Explicit. Oral(fem receiving) Body worship. Finger sucking. Squirting. Multiple orgasms. Willy being down bad.

Summary: You’re sweeter than any chocolate he could cook up, and Willy is all too eager to show you just how much he craves you. Your smiles, your attention…your taste.

The last few weeks of your life have been vibrant.

Filled with technicolor so unlike the dreary years you’ve spent in this town. Between the weather and the chipped cobblestone, England was so gray this time of year. Frigid and frozen over with winter winds and a constant flurry of snow.

It was on a particularly cold night that you’d found him.

Saved him, he’d argue whenever he told the story. Saved him from Bleacher and his mangy mutt.

“Don't you ever get tired of harassing people?” you'd sighed as you'd stumbled upon the scene. A familiar one- another poor soul about to get roped into Bleacher and Scrubbit’s barely concealed hoodwink. Everyone who’d grown up in this city knew better.

“Why don't you mind your business, Y/N. And leave us be. Both me and mister-” Bleacher looks to the man. The one with the sharp cheekbones and the ostentatious velvet trench coat.

“Wonka. Willy Wonka” And he’d said it with such innocence gleaming in those bright eyes that in that moment, you knew you couldn't let him fall victim to the cruel scam.

That’s how you’d ended up with an unexpected housemate.

The home you’d grown up in is nothing special and far from fancy, but you do happen to have a spare room. One with an old fold-out bed that’s more comfortable than it looks. It may have been stupid, but you couldn't help but trust him. Want to help him, feel this pull to him…

That was weeks ago. Almost a month now.

Willy living with you, under your roof, feels oddly natural. Like it had been years that the two of you had been co-existing, he fits into your space like he was destined to come to you. Like he belongs there; the two of you working together like a well oiled machine.

You cook dinner, he washes the dishes and wipes down the counters. The house has never been neater. Even though you try to deny them, every day when he returns from the Gallery Gourmet, he leaves silver shillings in the key bowl on the kitchen table.

“It’s not much…but I want to make sure I’m paying my way. I’m real appreciative of all you’ve done for me” he tells you so earnestly it makes you blush. You sneakily slip his sovereigns in the pockets of his trousers when you do his laundry.

He doesn't know it but he’s helped you too. And not just by scrubbing dishes.

You truly hadnt realized how lonely you were until he came along, and you were terrified of losing your found companion. You’d hold on to him for as long as he’d allow.

Your new favorite time of the day is the evenings; quiet ones. With a fire burning in the hearth and the radio playing softly. You and Willy curl up on the couch, warm in your respective quilts. And read. Well, you read to him. At his persistent insistence.

“Aren't you tired of me blabbing yet?” you tease as you pick up the dog eared copy of The Hobbit that the two of you had been working your way through.

Willy gives you a grin, all boyish and crooked “Never that. I adore the way you tell stories”

That makes your stomach swoop dangerously and you shake your head “You’re a flatter, Mr. Wonka”

“No, no. Your voice is more melodic than the bells of Notre Dame” and when he says things like that to you, how are you not supposed to swoon? From any other man it would make you scoff, but from Willy his compliments always feel different.

Like maybe he’s telling the truth…

You ignore it and change the subject to something that feels safer “One day i'm gonna put you in front of a map and make you show me all the places you’ve been”

“Honestly, It would probably be easier to mark off the few places I haven't been-”

“Oh ho ho ho. How modest of you, great explorer” You tease around a laugh and his ears redden a bit at your ribbing.

“It's not like that and you know it” Willy defends “It was a lot less glamorous than it sounds. I spent seven years under the deck scrubbing pots and then collecting ingredients for my chocolate whenever we made port”

“And wooing girls on every continent?” I ask and that blush on his ears spreads to the high apples of his cheeks.

He’s a pretty one and you know even though he pretends to be demure, might come off as innocent, he’s anything but.

You’d gotten a small taste of it, and hadn't thought of anything else since. But neither of you had quite mustered the bravery to talk about that yet.

The two of you settle in on the old worn couch with mugs of steaming hot chocolate, courtesy of Willy. He’d spoiled you rotten, made you develop a terrible sweet tooth. Any cavities you develop, you’re completely blaming on him.

“Willy” you whine.

“Just try it, please. I made this recipe especially for you”

You take a sip.

The first rush of flavor over your taste buds has your eyes fluttering.

“Mmm, oh my god” you can't help but moan. It’s the most complex thing you’ve ever tasted. Truly. He’s outdone himself- cinnamon and warmth.The kind that feels like a a lovers embrace. Sweet milk chocolate. Is that a hit of rose? “This is insane, what’s in this?”

At your praise Willy smiles like the cat that caught the canary “Cinnamon bark from Sri Lanka, Wild roses from China. Coconut milk”

You look over at him, appraising. Trying to figure out why his voice has taken on that husk. Why his eyes are boring into so intensely.

“What a peculiar combination of flavors” you whisper and Willy bites his lip.

“Its become my favorite combination lately” he admits “but I can't seem to get it quite right. You see, I was allowed to taste it only once, and its tormented me since”

Your breath hitches. Flashes of tangling tongues tongues and his lips pressed against yours. It had only been one kiss but it had wreaked havoc on you since.

You eyeball the mug in your hands. Maybe you weren't the only one suffering with the after effects after all.

“Is this chocolate supposed to taste like?...”

“You. Yes. Your kiss. Your tongue and your lips” Willy nods. “I don't know if anything can come close to the real thing, but I tried”

Your heart thunders behind your ribcage. The longing in his voice matches the one within your gut, the need that had been brewing.

“I’ve spent hours. Thinking of you, trying to imitate your taste so that I could have it one more time. Spicy, but not quite. More warm. Sweet…the floral note from your lipstick. I’ve been nearly everywhere and i’ve never sampled anything quite like it”

With his confession, the thin thread of control snaps.

You’d been trying, so hard. Trying not to scare him away. Trying to keep the intensity of your feelings at bay so that he’d stay, even after he secured his shop. That he wouldnt leave you when he found success-

You place the mug down on the old wood of the side table-

“Please” Willy’s pathetic as he grabs at your arm “Don't go, I understand if this was too much but I- I didn't know how else to show you”

You lean into his touch, not away and that seems to calm him if only just.

Of course this sweet silly man couldn't just tell you that he cared for you. That was not his style. He was bad with words, so much better with his hands. To him, he’d shown you the most sincere form of devotion, crafted your portrait with his most loved medium.

“I feel the same” you say, voice quivering just the tiniest bit. His eyes melt and he comes in close, forehead knocking against yours.

When you kiss him its hot from the start. It’s wet and electric, charged with emotion. With desperation. Willy’s sinewy hands are all over you, cupping your chin, squeezing your waist, so much more bold this time. The waiting had lowered any inhibitions he might have had.

It’s frantic, him unbuttoning your blouse and you tugging at his trousers.

You need more. Need to feel his dark silky hair between your fingers, his pale skin under your palms.

Nothing feels like enough. Not when he mouths at your garment covered breasts or when you wiggle out of your skirt.

You reach into his boxers, wanting to palm at the blood hot hardness you’ll find there-

He groans and pulls his mouth away from your neck, where he’d been suckling marks into the delicate skin. “Wait, don’t”

“Why?” you’re confused, you can feel him. Firm and needy under the cloth.

“Because I want to take care of you first. With my mouth. If you’ll let me”

And oh. Oh.

All you can do is nod. Lay back and let him take what he needs, you feel more vulnerable than ever before. When he blankets you with his body, you realize that you also feel safer. Adored by this man, by this odd beautiful man.

Willy is a tactile person. He wants to touch and taste. And so that is what he does.

There’s so much to feel. Your heavy breasts, peaked with hard little nipples that he swirls his tongue round. Your belly and wide hips, so soft, so much give, he watches his fingers dig in and indent. Your thighs, so plush.

He buries his head between them. And inhales, deeply.

“Willy!” you exclaim, scandalized, trying to close your legs, but he shoulders his way deeper.

“You smell so good” Willy reassures you, his nose pressed against the wet patch on your knickers. Groaning like it’s the best scent in the world.

He takes his time, savors the moment as he peels the damp fabric away. His eyes locked on how the strings of slick stretch and shine in the low fire light. You’re so wet, the puffy lips of your cunt sopping already. And when he takes his first tentative lap, he knows that he could do this for hours and there's no way he’d ever be able to replicate it.

Nectar from the gods. Earthy and sour sweet.

You whimper as he feasts, as he gorges greedily. The sight of his dark head bobbing between your thighs makes you shudder. It’s almost unreal. That he’s doing this, that he wants you. His arms are wrapped around the back of your thighs, holding them up, holding you open.

You come for the first time with your fingers buried in his hair, pressing his face deep into you. Riding his nose and tongue.

For the second time you’re arching away from the sharp pleasure.

“Willy” you choke on your whines as his fingers reach deep into you, hitting that sensitive place inside over and over. You’re shaking with overstimulation, but hes groaning like he’s the one being brought to orgasm over and over.

He pulls his wet mouth away every so often. To tell you how beautiful you are. How good you taste.

“I can’t” you whisper, warningly.

“Please” Willy insists, his breath against your clit “One more, one more for me”

You can't deny him anything, can you?

You arch right up from the couch cushions, squealing as you hit that peak again. But this time is different, this time something inside you bursts, pushing wetness out in a flood.

Willy lets out a gutted sound from where he’s smothered by your thighs, that have tightened vice like around his head during your orgasm.

Coming down from it is almost painful and you’ve never sobbed from pleasure but well. There’s a first time for everything. While you shake and shiver Willy’s gentle, petting your thighs and tummy in soothing circles. Pulling away from your over sensitive flesh.

He stares up at you, his gaze heavy and his tongue poking out every few seconds. Swiping at his wet lips. Like he can't stop tasting you. It’s debauched. Beautiful.

“You are the best thing i’ve ever tasted” Willy pants out the vow, raw with honesty. Drunk on the flavor of you.

Wryly, you wonder if he’ll try to manufacture it into a truffle. A fancy bon bon.

You smile as he climbs back fully on top of you, your arms wrapping around him and holding him close. You kiss the shell of his ear before whispering-

“My turn to taste you”

🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬🍬

I never thought I’d be writing Willy Wonka smut but well. Here I am lol

[emmyc0z]

Hii! I love your Thanos x reader x namgyu stories!! They’re so good and I love your writing! I was wondering if I could request more of that? Maybe a little smut if you’re comfortable writing it!

(Sorry if that doesn’t make sense, English isn’t my first language ❤️)

thanos ! x reader x namgyu !

pairing : thanos! x reader x namgyu!

cw : drug use and sexual activities!

a/n : erm i am NOT a good smut writer but i hope the small amount is enough. i love these two. also i don’t know if anyone has noticed but i cannot make them mean for the life of me. like i love a soft man. oops

you’d all live in a single apartment because it’s cheaper. you were practically all living together anyways (they crashed in your living room more than their own places) so you would decide making one rent payment split three ways made more sense than three separate payments.

the chores would probably fall on you. cooking, cleaning, laundry. it’s easier if they’re out of your way anyways.

i think namgyu would help out by buying groceries or taking over the laundry every couple of weeks.

i like to picture him with glasses, and leaving them everywhere but his face. like he’s constantly misplacing them. and he swears you must be psychic or something because anytime he starts squinting to see, you pull his glasses out of thin air.

he also definitely is incapable of admitting he needs them. and will actively refuse to find them because he “looks stupid with them on”.

thanos is the type of guy that wouldn’t do anything around the house except leave his cigarettes ashes on the living room table.

or throw his shoes on top of the already large pile of sneakers by the door instead of tidying them up.

or add his dirty dishes into an already full sink.

and then he’d say he contributes to house work because he bought take out once last week or because he brought home shit for you guys to smoke.

but he’s also the type that can clean the whole house in a couple of hours, under the condition that’s he’s high. like i imagine him popping one of those pills from his cross and getting the energy to do everything you’d plan to do when you get home.

and if you said anything about it he’d just shrug. like it’s not the most impressive thing he’s done since he moved in.

secretly he’d be on top of the world because of your praise and gratitude. and he can’t help but smile at the satisfied smile that appears on your tired face when you sit beside him on the couch with no responsibility for the night.

they both are the type to conspire around the thermostat. and they’ve somehow convinced you that you don’t know how to use it so you trust them when they say it’s set at a normal temperature.

like in the winter time, they’ll turn it down so low that they have to bundle up under multiple blankets on the couch just so you’ll keep them close.

picture this, you’ve gone to bed and they turn it down at least half an hour after. and you return to the living room, half dressed cause “that’s the only way you can sleep”, and you beg them to come sit in your bed to keep you warm.

and thanos would be the type of guy to get you there and claim that they have a faster way than just ‘sitting in bed’ to keep you warm.

that’s how you’d end up with thanos chest pressed to your back and his cold hands up your shirt, cupping your breast as he nips and kisses at your neck leaving purple marks in his path that are sure to show the next day.

meanwhile namgyu is laying on his stomach with your legs perched up on his shoulders, fingers pressing into the flesh of your thigh, as he head gets busy between your legs.

and you better believe your inner thighs are covered in bruises. he’s incapable of holding back his bites and kisses with your legs spread wide in front of him.

i cannot see namgyu being anything BUT handsy. like even if you guys were just cuddling this guys hands are on you, in you, all over you it’s crazy.

and you’d say it’s counterintuitive when thanos throws your shirt across the room, and namgyu has pocketed the underwear you were wearing, because how is removing your clothes keeping you warm.

but after at least of an hour of being trapped between them, all three of you are sweating and the room seems way hotter than before.

maybe the fact that they turned the thermostat back to normal before joining you in your bedroom had something to do with it. who knows?

the type of guys to talk to eachother about you like your not there but also the type to say it’s gay to make eye contact with eachother when they get you off.

they’re also jealous creatures. they can’t help it.

if the three of you are having sex and you leave a mark on one of them, like a hickey or god forbid you leave lines from your nails, the other is suddenly whining for your attention. silently begging for you to mark them up in the same way.

and they won’t leave your bed after. they stay put, hands wrapping around you from either side of the bed. namgyu’s fingers are intertwined with yours as his face presses against your neck. and thanos is sprawled out on his stomach, one arm draped over your middle as he faces you, dead asleep.

[steddieas-shegoes]

if you look deep enough into steve’s eyes, the colors start to shift from a medium-brown to light, almost golden, like his hair in the summer, like his skin when it’s wet.

eddie finds himself noticing these things more often as the year after vecna passes. on the anniversary of nearly dying, eddie thinks he’s noticed everything about steve.

but then steve shows up at his door after dropping the kids off at their respective homes, a smile on his face, and something mysterious in his eyes. something that distracts eddie from the golden specks the reflect off his porch light. something that only eddie really gets to see.

“wanna take a ride?”

“where you taking me, big boy?”

steve blushes, a soft pink that would be warm to the touch if eddie was brave enough to reach out.

“it’s a surprise.”

eddie trusts steve, so he gets in his car and doesn’t ask anymore questions.

steve talks about something dustin did on the way, complaining with a fondness only steve could have for the kid.

it hits eddie as steve pulls onto a side road.

the field.

the wildflowers bloomed early this year, and eddie had mentioned recently that he would like to make new memories in a place where he was facing death or prison exactly one year ago.

he didn’t think anyone was listening, but apparently steve was.

steve parks the car and eddie doesn’t think he can look at him yet. he thinks he’s gonna cry. he thinks he’s so deeply in love with this man that he may never experience anything like it again.

it’s dark, but the moon is bright. there’s still a light chill in the air, but eddie’s still wearing his leather jacket from hellfire earlier, so he barely feels it.

they walk together through the field, close enough that their hands brush, but still more distance between them than eddie wants. he’s surrounded by beauty: the flowers, the stars, steve.

he stops when steve does.

they both look up at the stars for a few minutes, silent so they can hear the crickets and their own heartbeats.

“a year ago, when i almost lost you, i thought about all the things i didn’t get to do or say or know about you. i was angry for a long time.” steve turns to eddie, giving him a sad smile. “it wasn’t fair that you had to go through all of that and i couldn’t do anything. the doctors weren’t doing enough, and the cops weren’t doing enough, and no one understood how important it was that they fix it.”

eddie’s watching him, baffled. he’s not sure where this is going and he’s worried that his own feelings may be clouding his vision.

“i couldn’t make your pain go away. i couldn’t make it easier. i couldn’t help you walk again or play guitar. i just had to watch.”

eddie feels a tug in his stomach, a pull that leaves him breathless.

“but i watched. and i saw every side of you. and i don’t think i’ll say this right, but i practiced with robin and she thinks i did good.” steve breathes in and turns to face eddie completely. “i learned a side of me that i didn’t know about while i watched you. i learned that love looks different than what i always thought. and i learned that because of you.”

“because of…me?” eddie’s trying not to get his hopes up, but he’s pretty sure they’re higher than ever.

“because you love so loudly. everyone you love knows it and you aren’t scared that they’ll run away. it’s probably because it’s impossible not to love you.”

eddie thinks he actually is experiencing some kind of post-death dream. maybe he got too high in his room and steve never even showed up at his door.

“eddie? did you hear me?”

eddie focuses on steve’s look of concern, on the golden specks in his eyes that the moonlight makes shimmer.

“i don’t know?”

“i said i love you.”

“oh. then, no, i didn’t.”

steve’s face falls and eddie realizes a second too late that his response to steve saying he loves him wasn’t the exact thing he’d been holding back for at least six months now.

“i just thought you should know. um. so i guess i can wait in the car if you wanna stay a bit longer-“

eddie is only staying in this field if steve is with him, so he wraps his arms around steve’s shoulders and hugs him harder than is probably safe.

“i love you. sorry i’m a dumbass and didn’t say it the second you did. i was trying to convince myself this was real life.”

steve laughs against his ear and eddie’s pretty sure they belong like this.

“why now?” eddie asks as he pulls away.

“because i told myself if you didn’t do it by today, i would.”

“how long have you been waiting on me?”

steve lets out a breath. “eight months give or take.”

“that is…much longer than i would’ve expected.”

“yeah, well, imagine being the one waiting.”

eddie smiles at steve, and steve smiles back, and eddie notices a new thing.

steve harrington’s got a crooked tooth. an imperfection to some, a sign of being human to eddie.

“what’s that face for?” steve asks.

“you’re perfect, stevie.”

they kiss in the field where eddie was saying goodbyes a year ago. they look at stars in a clear sky while holding hands and talking about what their future might look like. steve’s head rests in eddie’s lap while eddie traces steve’s lips with his finger, memorizing the curl of his lips when he smiles and the feel of the vibrations when he hums a song eddie doesn’t recognize.

steve picks flowers, and eddie makes a crown, and they both say i love you in a million ways.

they walk along the edges of the field, where the rv was parked while they prepared for the worst. eddie shivers at the memories, but steve kisses his shoulder and the back of his hand and he shivers at that instead.

they ride back, and eddie sings along to whatever songs play on the radio, even if he messes up the words. steve laughs and it’s better than any music they could listen to.

they kiss on eddie’s porch, surrounded by darkness because no one turned on the outside light. it’s so late, no one would see them anyway.

steve stays at eddie’s, but wayne’s home, so they’re quiet and keep their hands above the waist even though they so desperately want to touch, and kiss, and bite every inch of each other.

they still get carried away, which doesn’t surprise eddie at all. what does surprise eddie is how quickly steve sits in his lap, rutting against his stomach and biting back moans and whimpers and eddie laces their fingers together and squeezes, meeting each thrust with his own. neither of them last long, coming in their pants like virgins. they laugh, but they kiss through it, teeth clacking as they gasp for breath.

they take turns in the bathroom in case wayne wakes up. steve comes back into eddie’s room without a shirt and hair slightly damp. eddie feels his heartbeat quicken as steve hops into bed next to him.

they sleep with steve curled against eddie’s chest, eddie’s arms around his back, sweaty but content.

content and happy.

and when the sun rises the next morning, eddie wakes first and notices another new thing about steve: he drools in his sleep.

[astrow1zar6]

Astrology Observations- 013

I notice Cap Mercurys think so maturely even from such a very young age. These were those kids that always wanted to hang around people older than them. They are old souls at heart and sometimes it’s harder for them to connect with more childlike energies. People their age can see them as boring because of their serious demeanor.

Leo Risings never like to show the sides to them that make them look bad in anyway. These people have big egos so any assumption from others that they aren’t anything but great can take a big toll on their self esteem. They come off so confident but most are really insecure & don’t think they are interesting so they tend exaggerate a lot of facts about them to keep people thinking they are really interesting and amazing. (U guys don’t need ti do that people already think you are before you even speak)

Capricorn risings always look so annoyed when people are speaking to them. Most of the time they are. They have very honest expressions and when someone says something stupid or uninteresting they are more willing to show their uninterested while most are just willing to smile and take it out of being polite. This is why they can come off as rude or snobbish but really the just don’t have time for bullshit. (I definitely think Wednesday Addams has this placement) many don’t know they are being rude but most don’t have the energy to be fake if they really don’t like what the others saying. Very Real people many mistake them for being Scorpio risings.

Venus in Scorpios were probably shamed a lot for their their sex appeal/drives. I notice these people have a very provocative vibe to them that causes a lot of ppl to sexualize them ( especially the women). I’ve seen women with this placement be virgins and still get slut shamed. People always assume they sleep with mad people even if it’s not true.

Moon in 5th housers are actually very secretive about their talents. A lot are so talented but most tend to keep their hobbies and interests to themselves unless they really trust you.

When someone with Venus in the 7th house likes you they will talk about their future a lot with you. This one guy had a big crush on me and would always joke about getting married and starting a life someday ( he made it sound as a joke but in a way I can tell he meant it). Also can be obsessed with weddings. I have a friend with this placement who says she’ll only wanna get married to experience having her dream wedding lol

Venus in 2nd house women always have people buying them things bro. They don’t even have to ask and men will be buying them expensive gifts or paying for their food or trips. Definition of pretty privilege.

Mars in Aquarius like very eccentric things in bed. It’s almost like they enjoy the opposite of what should be expected in bed. Like the women would like to take normally the male role in bed and vice versa a man with this placement could like a very submissive role. The weirder and more out of place the more turned on they get. Can also be really experimental they are willing to try anything once even if it’s outlandish.

Mars in Aries are usually natural athletes. They have amazing endurance and can become pros faster than most.

Virgo moons usually have bad stomach problems or eating disorders. They are also always giving unsolicited advice no one asked for. They feel this need to solve everything but it can come off as kinda judgmental.

Mars in Pisces are usually victims to bullying. They usually have a hard time asserting themselves and standing up so they get pushed around a lot easier by stronger more dominant energies.

Cap moons are always in denial of their feelings

Mars Square Venus synastry can be really awkward at times in a friendship. Theres this bizarre sexual and touchy tension usually that both aren’t fully comfortable with. The mars person can come off a little too strong and can treat the Venus as if they own them. This attraction can be one sided sometimes with the mars person wanting the Venus and the Venus getting repulsed and distancing themselves. I’ve seen the mars person get jealous if the Venus would hang out with others whether it be other friends or family. And if the Venus is dating someone else this can get really heated on the mars end. Venus will feel the attraction but I notice it’s not as strong.

Venus in 5th house synastry is soooooo flirty. These are those cheesy cringey couples that are always acting like little kids around eachother. It’s actually a really sweet placement. This person will be able to bring out your inner child.

Venus in Libras are always crushing on someone. They jump into relationships I think faster than people with Venus in Aries the only difference is that they can maintain longer term partnerships & don’t bore as quick (even if their feelings are a little superficial). They just don’t know what to do with themselves when they are alone.

Scorpio risings I notice get really strong reactions out of people (like Lilith/asc people) their words make others blood boil even if they really don’t say anything offensive or rude. Most people are jealous of their authenticity which is why a lot of Scorpio risings are quiet and not as willing to open up. People just hate on them so intensely for the littlest things. They also have this ability to know if people are genuine or not which can be intrusive to certain people causing intense reactions. They can see thru everyone’s mask which can make other feel uncomfortable to be around them. This is why they usually have few friends and the friends they do have are as authentic as themselves. Literal human lie detectors

Men that have a water sun with a water moon are BIG SIMPS

Cancer sun women will be passively rude to you if they don’t like you or are jealous of you. They won’t straight say it but they will say little comments in a nice way that’s actually really rude. Then usually play victim if confronted

Everyone’s crush in high-school was either a Scorpio sun or a Libra sun/rising. Tell me I’m lying

[conchcronch]

Forget About Him

Zoro x You

You just found out Sanji is engaged to Pudding so you decide to drink away the hurt with a certain Swordsman.

A/N: I am super aware that Zoro was not present during Whole Cake, but by the time I realized that I was in too deep so I guess this is an alternate universe??

NSFW Below Cut

“We’re engaged to be married” Pudding’s smile was pure and despite the fact you had only just met her, you could tell she was genuinely excited. Who wouldn’t be excited to marry him? Your crewmates were all just as stunned as you were, although likely they weren’t feeling the same stabbing and twisting in their guts as you were. You felt the sting of impending tears in the palms of your hands but you didn’t know what to do with yourself. Pudding kept talking but truthfully you didn’t hear a single word she was saying, as if the world around you suddenly began to fade away and was replaced by every good memory you had with Sanji. Every afternoon he had spent showing you how to cook your favourite recipes, nights spent together in bed and early morning hours with your head on his chest, the way he would whisper sentences that only after studying his foreign tongue could you begin to understand. They were all a lie, he was just waiting to get away from you.

None of your crew noticed the way you fell silent, trying you best to fade into the background as they kept talking. You inched backwards towards the door you had all come through a few minutes before hearing the news. You successfully slipped out without anyone noticing. Or at least, that’s what you thought.

You quickly walked down the street, head down hoping no one would pay you any mind. As you walked you balled your hands in the skirt of your mock barmaid dress, trying to stave off the tears that were beginning to gather on your waterline.

“Hey!” There was a hand around your arm, urging you to stop but you resisted until a second one joined. “Stop” it wasn’t until the second order that your brain recognized the voice. And the moment you saw his face you could feel your demeanor crumble. The tears that were welling in your eyes began to fall as you were turned to face your fellow crewmate and very good friend. “Shit” fat tears began to fall down your cheeks as he looked around the town hoping to pull you into an alley or somewhere to get you out of prying eyes, not wanting to draw any more attention than Luffy already had with his earlier stunt. But every direction he looked, there were people already staring at you.

“I wanna’ go back to the ship.” You sniffed, wiping the tears with the back of your hand only for new ones to fall in their place. Zoro nodded but when he hesitated, clearly unsure where the ship was, you turned on your heel and began heading in the correct direction of the ship, hearing his heavy footsteps behind you.

By the time you got back to the Sunny, the tears had dried and the sadness you felt was replaced by anger. You pause when you make it onto the deck, hearing Zoro climb on behind you watching you to try and figure out what exactly it is you’re feeling. “Are you-“ you turn around and see Zoro pulling off the hat he was forced to wear, ruffling his short green hair as he tossed it on the deck. He looks up at you, seeing your distressed expression. “Go on, let it out.” He said with a general wave of his hand “you’ll feel better”.

You didn’t like being angry, you never found it useful. Even in the toughest of fights you never felt anger. It clouded your mind and made your movements sloppy, leaving clear openings. But in this moment you felt anger bubbling up in your stomach, the more you thought about all the time and effort you put into cultivating a relationship with the cook the more you felt the anger churn inside of you. You couldn’t blame the girl, you wanted to, it would be easier if you could. But you knew she was just a bystander, she probably didn’t even know about you and him. You and him. There wasn’t a you and him…not formally anyway. You spent almost all your free time with him, helping him in the kitchen with prep, you were the only one he let use his knives. You were the only one other than him with a key to the fridge. And who could forget that you spent most nights together, usually limbs tangled while hands roamed freely upon one another’s bodies.

But there technically wasn’t a you and him. There was just you and him. But that realization being smacked in your unsuspecting face still stung. It made you clench and unclench your fists, your teeth grinding together in contemplation. “What’re you thinking?” You almost forgot you weren’t alone.

”I’m…I’m pissed.” He nodded, urging you to go on. “I’m fuckin’ pissed! I’m hurt! Do you know how much effort I put into him.” It wasn’t a question, but Zoro knew. He watched you every time you were within view. Listened to you through the shared wall, he knew he could make you feel better than that shitty cook. He knew you bent over backwards to please that man, always keeping an eye out for a new cook book or interesting looking ingredients while you were docked. Always abandoning your training the moment the man gave you an ounce of attention, he noticed the way your body would deflate every time the cook flirted with one of the other girls. He saw it all. “I did everything and anything for him. I didn’t want to spend hours chopping fuckin’ carrots, I hated being in charge of watching the pot to make sure it boiled. He literally made me watch a pot boil!” You dug the heels of your palm into your eyes, letting out a frustrated groan, your nails scratching at your scalp. “And don’t even get me started on the flirting!” Zoro couldn’t stop the chuckle, loving the way you were going off. “Don’t laugh at me” You peeked at him through your fingers as you wiped them down your face.

“Hey, don’t get pissy with me. I didn’t leave you high and dry then go marry some basic bitch.” He smiled and was relieved when you returned it, even if it was just a hint of a smile.

“She is a basic bitch, isn’t she.” Your voice was weaker then it had been, your throat slightly scratchy from your yelling, something you really weren’t used to doing.

“Pfft, the fact that he had you throwing yourself at him and he chose her. He’s even more stupid then I gave him credit for.” You could feel them again, the tears. The realization that you had thrown yourself at him, and he still chose someone else. The thought weighed heavy on your heart and when the tears began to roll down your cheeks again you watched Zoro push off the side of the boat. He cleared the distance between the two of you, wrapping his strong arms around you. You tried to think of if he had ever hugged you before, if you had ever nestled your face in his chiseled chest before. It didn’t matter much, but maybe if he had done it sooner you wouldn’t be in this whole mess.

You melt into him, your arms limply wrapping around his back bunching his long jacket up in your hands. He held you there for what felt like 20 minutes, he let you cry, his arms tightening around you every time you let out a broken sob. “You’re…”His voice was muffled by your hair and when he remained quiet for a bit you thought you imagined his voice. “You’re better then him” You tried to not take that to heart, thinking he probably said it to get you to stop wiping your tear streaked fast against his one good shirt, you tightened your hug before letting go, stepping away from him.

“Thank you,” He stepped back, looking away from you and grunting in acknowledgment. “Really Zo’” You caught his biceps in your hand, forcing his face down to look at you “I mean it, you didn’t have to follow me or listen to me rant, but you did.”

“Wanna’ go find where he keeps the top shelf shit?” A smile plays across your lips before you nod, taking a step before stopping again.

“You go start looking, I wanna’ change out of this stupid dress. I feel like everyone can see my entire ass.” Your hands try to pull the back of the skirt down but it doesn’t budge.

“Not your entire ass, maybe, probably only like two thirds.” You shoot him a glare up at him, trying to kick his thigh in a pitiful attempt to throw him off balance. But of course he was expecting it. ”well when you do that I can just see everything.” He laughs, then you laugh and it all feels very normal all of a sudden. Zoro always had a way of doing that, making you laugh. And as you walk back to your door, the realization of how often you bailed on training with Zoro settled in. You could have been laughing like this instead of down in the windowless kitchen with a man who clearly didn’t feel the same for you as you did for him.

As you strip off the dress you had been forced to wear to ‘blend in’, tossing it over onto your bed before sitting half naked. You glance around the small room and you see remnants of the cook. A shirt over your desk chair, a tie dangling around off the head board, even a pack of cigarettes next to the bed. That mixture of anger and sadness begins to churn in your stomach again, it only intensified as you pulled on a baggy t-shirt and track pants. Reaching a boiling point when you tripped over a pair of forgotten slacks that must have gotten shoved under the bed during a rowdy night.

You rip the pants out from under the bed before gathering the other items of his, balling them up in your arm and marching to the kitchen. You came down the ladder into the room particularly hard, dropping the pile of clothes on the floor and feeling Zoro’s eyes on you. “You good?” He was crouching down, looking through the cupboard under the sink every item that was in there is now strewn around him on the floor.

“Just-“ You sigh, feeling a bit better as you kick the pile of clothes before walking towards Zoro to help him look. “Just doing some light reorganizing.” He huffs out a laugh before continuing his search in the next cupboard over. “He keeps it up here.” You climb up onto the counter with ease, opening where the plates are stored and reaching all the way to the back. You grope around between the plates for a few seconds before you finally feel the two bottles of sake laying down at the far corner. You pull them out, handing one to Zoro who’s now standing right behind you, a hand ghosting behind your back in case you stumble.

“A benefit of fucking the cook.” Zoro says, cracking the seal on the first bottle and bringing it to his nose. “Shit,” He pulls the bottle back to examine the label “Don’t think I’ve had this one before.” He brings it to his lips and drinks.

“He’s been sitting on it since probably before Impel.” You shift so you’re sitting on the counter with your legs dangling over the edge. Zoro pulls the bottle from his lips, his tongue darting out to catch any missed alcohol before extending it out to you. You mimic him, feeling the refined wine slide down your throat about as easily as rubbing alcohol but forcing yourself to swallow more of it. If your eyes had been open you would have been the way Zoro watching you, his eyes dragging down your body like he was starving and you were a 5 course meal.

When you pulled the bottle away from your lips you handed it back to him before hopping off the counter and grabbing the second bottle before, having to press a hand to Zoro’s side to steady yourself as you felt the alcohol warm your thighs. “You think they’ll come back?”

“Doubt it, you’re not dragging Luffy away from an entirely edible town without some sea stone cuffs.” You walked over to the dining table, sitting in your usual spot watching as Zoro pulled his chair about to sit down

’Um” You were loud enough that he paused, about to sit in the seat but seemingly suspended in midair. “Maybe choose another chair.” You felt your face burn, feeling guilty for the amount of times you and Sanji had used that chair during your late nights in the kitchen. You watched as Zoro straightened up, a grimace on his face before he opted to sit in the chair next to you, usually used by Nami.

“Fucked in this one?” He asked before sitting on it. You ran a hand over your face as you shook your head, loving the way he laughed at your embarrassment. “Any other surfaces I should be conscious of?”

“You’re not getting that out of me without a lot more alcohol in my system.” He slid the sake bottle over to me, it was already less than half full.

“Better get going then.” He leaned back in the chair and watched in amusement as you drank from the bottle again, following a rouge drip that fell from the corner of your mouth as it cascaded down your chin and landed on your well worn white shirt that at one time had had the straw hat Jolly Roger on it but it had since faded. ”Really dressed up for your night in, huh?” You wipe your mouth with the palm of your hand before looking down, he wasn’t wrong, you looked like shit. This shirt had seen better days, and the track pants you weren’t entirely sure where you had gotten them but they were at least a size too big.

“What can I say, I wanted to slip into something more comfortable for you.” You nudged his thigh with your bare foot, watching him bat it away with a false sneer.

“Get those away from me, you’re little cook might be into that but I’m not!” The mention of Sanji didn’t hurt as much this time, whether it was the alcohol coursing through your veins or the company you were currently keeping, it was working.

He grabbed the bottle, finishing it quickly before turning back to you as though he was about to say something but stopping. “What?” His brows furrowed as he realized something,

“Wait if dart brow isn’t here, who’s gonna’ cook?” You shrug.

“Just like everything else, he probably left that to me.” You sighed, almost stopping yourself before speaking because fuck it, it’s just Zoro. “Why, you’re hungry?” You were already pushing yourself up out of the chair before he responded with a ‘yeah’.

You pushed yourself up onto unsteady legs, staggering towards the fridge where you were confident there were so left overs from the last meal he cooked before leaving. You pulled it open, seeing a perfectly wrapped portion of fried rice that just needed to be warmed.

You could feel Zoro’s eyes on you as you worked, stirring the rice in a wok, even cracking an egg over it while it sizzled. When you finally turned around, Zoro wasn’t quick enough to move his eyes before you noticed. “What?” He shook his head which you waved off as you scooped the meal into a bowl that was just a touch too small for the portion. When you slid it onto the table in front of the swordsman he couldn’t withhold the laugh.

“You’d think with all the hours you spent down here with him, you’d learn a thing or two.” He said around a mouthful of rice only to be met with a swift smack on the arm.

“Plating doesn’t make it taste any different.”

“Not what Curly says” He managed to say before shovelling another spoonful of rice into his maw.

“Yeah well, he’s not exactly a man of his word now is he?” You almost winced at your words, not entirely meaning what you said but you were still licking your wounds.

”Still would have thought he would have taught you a thing or two with how much time you spent down here with him.”

“He didn’t so much teach me more then he instructed me” you sat heavily on your chair again, reaching forward to grab the unopened sake bottle bringing it to your lips as soon as the lid was off.

“So that’s not your thing then?” He cocked an eyebrow, pushing the empty plate away and snatching the bottle from your hand.

“Bedroom sure, kitchen no.” You brought your legs up into your chest, perching your chin on your knees.

“Then why waste your time with him?” The question caught you off guard. You had been asking yourself that for the last few hours but you never expected the man opposite you to ask it.

“I really don’t know anymore.”

“I know he doesn’t have a big dick so it’s gotta’ be something else.” You both smiled and you rolled your eyes.

“It got the job done.”

“Oh trust me, I heard.” He rolled his eye before nudging the bottle back over to you.

“Go to hell” you scoffed before taking a sip.

“Sharing a wall with the two of you was pretty close.” You went to kick his thigh but instead he caught your ankle, yanking it forward a bit. “You’re getting sloppy”

“I’m drunk”

“You’re out of practice.” Something about his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

“Well, I’ll have a lot more free time now. Maybe we can train tomorrow?” You weren’t sure if it was a drunken illusion but you could have sworn he smiled, a soft genuine smile before nodding.

A comfortable silence fell between you both as you passed the bottle of sake back and forth until you took the last gulp. “Should I get the cooking wine?” You asked half seriously, half joking.

“I think you should pace yourself.” He leaning back in his chair, his foot on your chair and yours across his lap.

“Pfft okay Sanji.” You teased, watching his eyebrow raise.

“So,” his change in tone caught your attention, drawing your gaze back to him. “I’ve been travelling with his idiot since the beginning and I just can’t wrap my head around it. He never treated you that well, you never seemed happy.” His eyes were closed, his arms behind his head. “Didn’t it bother you that he was constantly flirting with anyone who had a set of tits? It drives me crazy and I wasn’t trying to catch his dick.”

“I guess,” You paused, trying to choose your words carefully. The last few hours had been filled with so much anger and hurt that it was difficult to remember what about him you chased after for so long. “I guess I liked it when he gave me attention”

“I must have missed that, probably blinked the one time it happened” You shrugged even though he didn’t see.

“He was different when it was just us.” He hummed.

“Really?” A sigh fell out of your lips before you really noticed it.

“Sometimes.” You rub your face against your knees, “it was nice to have someone to share a bed with.”

“Can’t say I liked you sharing a bed.” He laughed. “I’ll be sleeping a lot better now”

“We weren’t that loud.” You tried but you knew you were so wrong.

“You’re joking right?” He opened his eye and raised a brow. “But, it seemed fake.” The bluntness of his words were something you had grown accustomed to, he was never one to beat around the bush, and yet you were caught off guard by how blunt and accurate he was.

“It wasn’t” You tried to sound genuine but there was enough alcohol in your system that your attempt at lying was extremely weak. “It was just…systematic I guess.” He hummed, his gaze glued to you even though your eyes were looking at your feet across his lap. “There were no surprises, it was always the same. It felt like a routine.” You ran your hands through your hair, digging the heel of your palms into your eyes “Sometimes some spontaneity would have been nice.”

“Fucking on my chair wasn’t spontaneous enough?” He asked, his tone more cheeky then you had heard in awhile.

“I don’t mean the place, it was more the…” You sighed “The process of events.” You pushed your hands through your hair, forcing your gaze to meet his, his eye squinted clearly he wasn’t understanding. “Like it was always the same thing in the same order. We’d kiss, he’d undress me, then he’d start to ea-“ You stopped mid word, completely shocked that you had started that sentence and there was no way you were finishing it. “I am so sorry, you probably didn’t want to hear any of that. I guess the sake is hitting me way harder then I thought!” You were panicking that you had just ruined the night but when you heard him laugh you sighed out the breath you didn’t even know you had been holding in.

“And you wasted how many years chasing after him?” His hand was idolly running up and down your shines.

“Two years” you said barely louder then a whisper.

“Two years without a good fuck?” You nodded. “Sounds like you need to go get laid.” He watched your every move, every wrinkle of your nose, every twitch of your brow. “At port” He tried to add in casually but ultimately failed, drawing your attention to the way his jaw clenched at the mention of you going to port.

“That's the last place I’d go for a good lay.” You shook your head, all this talk of sex paired with the alcohol was causing you to clench your thighs, feeling the familiar feeling of slick gathering between your folds.

A silence spread throughout the room again, to the point where you decided you wanted to go back to your room and coax yourself to an orgasm before bed. As you stood up, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his temple “thank you Zo, this helped a lot.” Before your inebriated brain could process it, Zoro had turned his head and caught your lips with his, devouring the startled oh you let out.

The kiss was intoxicating, the way he moved his lips against yours was almost territorial, his tongue sliding along your own as you moaned into his mouth. His hands were on your waist, guiding you to come and sit on his lap. You couldn’t help but grind your now burning core against the hint of an erection that was beginning to stir in his pants. Every time you dragged your covered cunt along him he let out a guttural groan into your mouth, and you ate it up like it was the best meal you’ve ever had.

As your kiss became more teeth, moaning into each other’s mouths, his hands began pulling your shirt up until it was high enough to slip both hands under. The rough pads of his fingers were a harsh contrast from Sanji’s primed and manicured fingers, Zoro’s having almost a high grit sandpaper feel to them. He was quick to grab your breasts, pulling his lips away from yours long enough to say “I won’t be gentle with you” You couldn’t stop the moan that fell from your lips at his words, your entire body buzzing from his touch and probably the alcohol. One hand moved to focus on your left nipple, running his rough thumb over the bud while his other hand yanked your shirt over your head.

His lips were on you the moment your hair was freed from the neck of your shirt. He dragged his tongue along your collarbones, occasionally nipping at your skin until he guided your tit to his mouth, his lips encircling it immediately. Your hands shot to his hair, pulling possibly too roughly at his short green locks, trying to muffle your sounds into the top of his head. “If he got to hear you, then so do I.” He grumbled, his teeth catching your nipple enough to make you yelp. He seemed content with that sound, his free hand now sliding slowly down your stomach, so painfully slow. You could hardly stop the praise that slipped from your lips with a moan when he tugged at the waist of your track pants.

Just before his fingers slipped past the fabric he pulled back, looking down for long enough that you took notice. “What?” Part of you thought he had finally come to his senses and was going to leave the kitchen acting like this never happned so when he spoke again you were relieved.

”These are my pants.” He tugged at the elastic again, noticing how loose they were on your hips. “Bet the cook didn’t know you stole my pants.” His smirk was so wide it made the corner of his eye crinkle.

“I’ve had these for weeks”

”Yeah so? Don't make them yours.” The lack of touch was driving you mad, your hips grinding down against his lap subconsciously, making him laugh.

”Maybe you just gotta’ get better at laundry” you countered, catching the glint of challenge in his eye.

“I think I want them back.” Despite the fact you were already naked from the waist up, the realization that this was going further smacked you in the face and lit a fire in your loins.

“Guess you’ll just have to take them back then.” You were amazed at how steady your voice was, you were even able to crack a cheeky smirk.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah” your body was tossed on the dining table in no more than two seconds flat. The sound of his chair scraping as he stood barely registered, neither did him ripping the pants off your legs until you felt the cool night air that was seeping through the floorboards against your legs. He shoved your knees apart enough that he could stand between your dangling legs. He was quick to grab your leg, yanking you right to the edge of the table so his bulge was pressed against your barely clothed heat.

“I think I like you better like this anyway.” His lips were on yours the moment his sentence left his mouth. His hands tight on your hips, playfully toying with the fabric of your panties. “You ever fuck on the table?” He moved his attention to your neck, sucking dark hickies into your pale skin between words.

“Y-yeah” he groaned against you, clearly hoping the answer would be different.

“Bet he never ate you out on the table though.” You opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a whiny moan which gave him all the information he seemingly needed. His lips made their way down your neck to your shoulder, he was now shamelessly rutting against you. “Is that what you want, baby? Me to eat you like the best meal I’ve ever had?” You’re confident at one time or another Sanji had said the exact same thing, despite that you nodded. “I wanna hear you scream my name.” He worked his lips further down your body, taking his sweet time to suck on each nipple, his hands having moved to tracing shapes on your inner thighs, teasing higher and higher with every motion. “Think you can do that for me?” When you tried to answer he nipped at the skin right above your pantie line, his gaze shifting up to look at you.

“Y-yeah th-hink I can.” You swallowed harshly, your mouth suddenly as dry as the desert of alabasta where you had first laid eyes on the Swordsman.

“Good girl.” He grabbed either side of your panties, pulling them down your legs slowly. It was impossible for him to ignore the wet patch on the crotch and the way even the outside of your lips were slick. “Been a while, huh baby girl?” You nod. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to take good care of you. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll forget all about that shitty cook.”

His hot breath against your lips was enough to drag a whine from your throat and as he leaned closer to your core your thighs twitched, trying to ready yourself for what was coming. His approach was entirely different from Sanji’s. He would always take things very slow, rarely using his hands to pleasure you and opting for his tongue instead. Yet Zoro’s first move was slipping his middle finger in your drooling hole as his tongue flicked over your bundle of nerves. With every thrust of his fingers he smiled against you as your volume increased. If this were normal circumstances and he had to keep you quiet he would have reached up with his free hand and force his fingers in your mouth but lucky for him, you could be as loud as you wanted. As he added another finger to stretch you out and began gently sucking on your clit, his eyes trained on your arching body. Your brain was barely able to register the way he moved his fingers inside of you, clearly carefully searching for the spot that had constantly alluded Sanji, and was always just out of reach of your own fingers. But when the rough pads of his fingers dragged across your g spot your whole body tensed, you sat up and met his gaze. He flicked his tongue over your clit while simultaneously smirking as he applied more pressure to that particular spot and watched your eyes squeeze shut.

“How’s that feel baby?” His breath was hot against your clit as he spoke, all you could do was nod, any attempt to speak was thwarted by moans. He pulled your thighs over his shoulders, laughing into you when you unconsciously held him against you, effectively shutting him up.

You could feel your peak drawing near with every come hither of his finger, every flick of his tongue. You managed to perch a foot on Zoro’s shoulder, giving you enough leverage to grind against his face as the wave of your orgasm crashed into you. Your fingers roughly grabbed his short hair, holding him suffocatingly close to your cunt as your thighs held him in place, the words falling from your lips were barely cohesive, mainly curses and praise. And when your body finally went slack you could barely hold your eyes open long enough to see him wipe his face on his arm, his eyes hungry and his cock straining painfully against his pants. Despite your eyes being closed, you could feel him near you. He wasn’t touching you but his breath was labored and when you opened your eyes, you were greeted with him leaning against the table you were laying on. Slowly, almost as though he was teasing himself, he rubbed his tented pants, his hips just barely canting forward with each stroke of his hand.

On legs that were about as sturdy as those of a baby deer, you slipped off the table, grabbing the waist of his cargo pants as though you could keep yourself standing with the support of the flimsy material. You just barely heard a rough ‘huh’ as you sank to your knees in front of him, your hand moving from his waist to pull at the button straining to keep his cock contained. “Someone’s eager.” You looked up at him to see a cocky grin as he helped your daft fingers pull the front of his pants open.

You wanted to speak but the words died in your throat when you finally managed to seperate his pants enough for his cock to be freed. Sanji’s cock could only really be described as ‘pretty’, something that closely resembled any standard dildoes you had seen at the back of seedy stores throughout your travels. But Zoro’s, Zoro’s was real. And the second you saw it you knew it was exactly what you needed. And you need it now.

Your mouth was encircling his head before he could even comment on your stares. Pulling a deep sigh from the man’s throat, his head tipping back as his hips bucked forward. His hand was quick to find your head, his fingers knotting themselves in your hair, offering you slight guidance as you swallowed more of him. It wasn’t long before one hand turned into two on either side of your head, controlling the speed of your rhythm and forcing more of his cock down your throat.

This was all you had ever wanted, to be used. Zoro was checking so many of your boxes, some you didn’t even know needed to be checked. And the low animalistic sounds that were coming from his mouth with no shame were making you more wet then you thought even possible. You glanced up at him through your lashes which had become wet with tears from overcoming your gag reflex. At some point he had pulled his shirt up, pulling the majority of it over his head so it was out of the way giving you an impeccable view of his muscles move as he fucked your throat. His eye opened just for a second, his lips parting to bare his teeth as the hands that were guiding your head back and forth pushed you back enough that his cock was pulled from your lips and you stumbled, falling on your butt. His breath was heavy and he ran a hand over his chest while the other held the base of his cock in an iron grip.

“Damnit” His grip tightened to where you can only assume it hurt but his gaze moved up enough to see you, your legs spread with your hands propping you up. “I’m gonna destroy that pretty cunt.” You weren’t even fully aware of the moan you seemed to respond with. When he seemed confident he had staved off his impending orgasm, he released his cock and held out his other hand towards you. You took it, allowing him the haul you up and stumbling a bit into him. You have never been overly aware of your height difference but now that you felt his erection pressed into your upper stomach you realized just how much he loomed over you. Your height difference with Sanji never seemed as noticeable as it does with Zoro, Sanji always made an effort to lean down to kiss you or ensure he was always sitting on the few occasions he allowed you to blow him. Whereas Zoro was the complete opposite, he enjoyed making you feel small.

He moved from where you were both standing to Sanji’s chair, pushing it out from under the table with his foot so he could sit on it, legs spread. You stood there for a second, unsure if he wanted you to finish what you had started or if he wanted you to get on top of him. He noticed your hesitation and patted his thigh, a smirk on his lips. It was so obvious how sexually pliable you are.

His hands were on your waist the moment you were close enough, his grip guiding you to straddle his lap while keeping your feet mostly on the ground. Your senses were overwhelmed by him, his musky scent wrapped around you and when he pulled your head closer into the crook of his neck you were almost suffocated with it. It wasn’t a bad smell, far from it. But it was so different then what you were used to, it was earthy, the smell of a forest after a heavy rain, it wasn’t from a bottle it was just him. You sat fully on his lap, your toes just barely touching the ground on either side of him. His hands ran from your waist up along your sides, before sliding back down and grabbing his ass, pulling your body forward to put pressure on his cock which was now sandwiched between your lower belly and his. You were lost in the feeling of his hands along your skin, completely unaware of the way you were grinding against him until his hands grabbed your waist tightly again. “You really are needy” His breath was on your neck, your head lolling to one side to give him unrequested access to your overly sensitive skin. “Are you ready?” You weren’t even sure how he was simultaneously nipping at your neck while speaking but the burning in your core was beginning to become an ache and the more he teased you the more it hurt.

“Y-yea”

“Come on then.” His lips pulled away, his hands on your waist guiding you off of his lap. If your mind weren’t so foggy you would have questioned it, but at this point you didn’t care what he did to you as long as he was touching you. He moved your body as though you were a doll, spinning you around and leading you so your hands were gripping the back of the wooden chair, even moving your leg so your knee was on the chair. “Now I want you to do something for me, think you can?” You nodded, looking over your shoulder at him as he ran a hand over the meat of your ass, ”Use your words.” You swallowed hard, closing your eyes and trying in vain to focus on piecing together a sentence.

“I’ll do anything for you.” Your throat was dry as you spoke, but the low gravelly and drawn out ‘good’ was all the reward you needed.

“I want you to watch that ladder okay,” His leaned his body over yours, his chest against your back so you could feel the vibrations of his words.

“W-why?” He rubbed the head of his cock over your slick entrance but didn’t push inside,

“So if the cook comes down to look for you, he can see you getting fucked better then he could ever.” It was unclear if the moan that fell from your lips was in response to Zoro’s words or him finally forcing his cock inside. His hands were on your tits, using them to pull your body back against his, his cock splitting your walls apart, teetering on the verge of painful. When you felt his pelvis flush against your ass he stilled, clearly aware of his size, opting to pepper kisses along your shoulders and neck, his thumbs ghosting over your nipples in a way that had your clit aching. “How’s that feel, baby?” Everything is working against your ability to think, the pulse of his cock inside of you, his hands that are still toying with your nipples and even the way he smells, all of it is making it impossible to process anything, let alone speak.

“Good” was all you could manage, and even that came out closer to a breathe then a word.

“Just good?” Somehow he pulled you even closer, forcing his cock even deeper then you thought possible, a broken moan mixed with a sob shot from your throat. “I think we can do better then that.” His hands abandoned your chest, opting for your hips to give him more control. “Wanna’ try again?” He spoke right into your ear, his breath moving over your neck in the most delightful of ways. You shook your head, dropping your forehead to rest against the backrest of the wooden chair of which you were gripping as though it were a lifeline. “Should I just leave you then?” You could hear the smirk, he knew as well as you did that there was no way in hell either of you were leaving this kitchen without finishing. But despite that, the panic that coursed through you when he pulled his hips back as though he was pulling out completely, caused you to sputter a string of no’s. He slowly pushed himself back inside, barely able to mask the long breath that left his lungs as he did so. “If you want me to keep going,” he leaned against you again, his arms encircling your waist like a bear hug, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Answer my question.” He very slowly, painfully slow pulled out just enough that when he thrusted back inside you gasped. “How,” again “does” again, this time harder “that” his hand slipped low enough that with his middle finger he applied an angel’s whisper of pressure directly on your clit as he whispered “feel” in your ear, his voice closer to a growl then anything else.

“Zoro” a sob tore past your lips, pushing your hips back to meet his as he finally picked up his pace. His name was the only thing you could say, as though it was a prayer and you were a devout follower.

“We can work on that” his focus shifted from toying with you to chasing his pleasure. His hand having move so your clit was held between his index and middle finger, as he fucked into you at an animalistic pace. The sound of skin smacking punctuated by your sobs, begging for him. You were close, your stomach was tensing rutting against his fingers chasing after your climax.

Your vision blurred to the point where you had to close your eyes, feeling tears streak down your cheeks as your orgasm crashed over you. He never stopped, not his thrusts nor the pressure on your bundle of overstimulated nerve endings. “Please Zoro” finally the pressure on your clit was gone and instead you felt a hand on your neck, pulling you back into an arch as he fucked into you, somehow managing to hold off as he teetered in the cliff’s edge of orgasm. “Fuck cum please Zo, please, I need it” you sobbed, completely cock drunk, the sound of smacking skin almost deafening.

That was what Zoro was waiting for, hoping for. His climax hit him so hard the sound that came out of him masked the sound of freshly shined dress shoes climbing down the ladder that you were supposed to be watching, despite neither of you thinking there was actually a reason to.

The rush of warmth that filled you was almost enough to make you cum again, and if your clit had still been held between his fingers you’re sure you would have. But you enjoyed the feeling of his slow thrusts, maintaining long and slow motions as he fucked his cum back inside of you, his body slumped against yours as his breathing was laboured.

He was the first to raise his head, your eyes still closed, forehead against the wood. Zoro’s hips still slowly rutted against you, even as he made eye contact with the cook who was glued to his spot. You of course, didn’t know this, you were still riding out your orgasm. “How did that feel?” His hand ran down your back, running along your spine until he cupped your ass, his blunt nails digging in.

“So good,” he hummed, clearly content with the answer.

“Did you forget all about him?”

Your mind was blank, the only thing you could fully comprehend was the feeling of his pelvis against your ass and the feeling of his cum beginning to seep out around his cock. “Who?”

“Good girl”

[wcnderlnds]

we're venus and mars, we're like different stars | choi su-bong (thanos)

・❥・ summary: you're a pink guard and find your annoying best friend in the games. ・❥・word count: 1.8k ・❥・warnings: drug mentions, death mentions, lots of swearing because its thanos. ・❥・ authors note: okay, this is a whole series i've been working on for a few days now and i'm hype for it so hopefully everyone enjoys it as much as me!! we in for an idiot best friends to lovers slowburn.

‘The number you have called is currently unavailable. Please try again later.’

With a heavy sigh, you handed your phone over to the guard standing before you for safekeeping. It was pointless anyway. Su-bong wasn’t going to answer but you wished with your whole heart that he would. The last conversation you’d had with him worried you. Things hadn’t been going great for him lately but the way he’d been talking had really concerned you to the point you’d almost considered ditching your duties and sticking with him but you couldn’t. You’d made a promise many years ago and if you didn’t keep it, things wouldn’t end well for you. There was nothing you could do but hope and pray that your best friend was okay. It would only be a week until you could see him again at least.

Security checks to get into the games always took forever but finally you’d made it through, passing them with flying colours. They were very strict about, well, everything. They took your devices, patted you down just in case you were wearing a wire and questioned you for the passcode. Everyone who had taken the job to be a guard was told the code, never to share it with anyone else. It was so they could sniff out anyone who was trying to sneak in. There had been an incident three years ago where someone had disguised themselves as a guard, infiltrating the games. Since then security had been taken up a notch. 

Making your way to your small room, your thoughts couldn’t help but drift back to Su-bong. Hopefully he wasn’t doing anything stupid but knowing him, he probably was. Stupid was his middle name at this point. With a sigh, you pulled on your pink jumpsuit, the mask with the infamous square on it donning your face and you were ready for the games to begin. 

Crowds upon crowds of people filed through the stairs to where all the photo booths stood. This was the calm before the storm. These poor people had no idea what was coming. There was a part of you that felt sorry for them, the urge to almost tell them what was about to happen forefront in your mind. You couldn’t, though. In this place, doing the job you were doing, you had to be strong. Feelings in this place didn’t end well. That’s why whenever you were here you shut down. You became the person that was cold, calculated. Someone that abided by the rules and didn’t feel any remorse. It was the only way to get through. The only way to make this easier on yourself.

A commotion caught your attention, pulling you out of your thoughts. Your eyes glanced over to where it was coming from and instantly your heart plummeted into the pit of your stomach. The room suddenly started spinning, your hand reaching out to the wall to steady yourself. This could not be real. A wave of nausea hit you, the contents of your stomach threatening to resurface as you watched your purple haired best friend surrounded by a group of his fans.

It was no secret that Thanos needed money but how had he ended up in here? When you last spoke to him yesterday, he said he was probably going to try and find a few gigs to earn a bit of cash. His rap career had taken a bit of a downfall when he lost all his money thanks to MG Coin. It had all gone downhill from there. He started taking drugs, acting erratic like he wasn’t even on this planet. It broke your heart to see him so broken but no matter how many times you had tried to help him, he’d always denied it. That was the thing about Thanos; he was stubborn to a fault.

You had to get it together. As a guard, you couldn’t show weakness. Being weak was what got you killed and that was something you refused to let happen. Nobody would catch you slipping. You stood up straight, your heart still feeling like it was at the bottom of your stomach as you watched the scene unfold. You could handle anyone in here but him. If anything ever happened to him….

His voice echoed through your ears asking you if you wanted to be in the picture. Behind your mask, you rolled your eyes before explaining that it was only one person at a time. Making a cross with your arms, he waved everyone else away. He really didn’t give a damn. His face was etched with frown lines, his lips were constantly turned downward. It took all of your strength not to reach out to him and hug him. At that moment, he looked like he needed one. Or maybe you just did. Watching him walk away only made the beating of your heart increase tenfold knowing what he was walking into.

—————

Was he serious?

Your fists clenched at your sides as you watched Thanos pop one of his pills in his mouth from the control room. Eyes fixated on the screen as the dumbass chased his high rather than dealing with what he’d just witnessed. Understandably, watching someone die right in front of you for the first time was traumatic but what was he thinking taking one of those pills in a game like this?

Maybe you were also a little mad at him for flirting with the girl the second he’d laid eyes on her. It wasn’t surprising — he was a flirt, a player but you thought he’d have enough sense to realise nothing about this place was normal. The feeling of jealousy that had bubbled up inside you when you saw it wasn’t new. It happened all the time whenever he spoke of the girls he’d hooked up with. Your blood would boil while your brain would come up with ideas on how to get rid of said girl. It was solely because he was your best friend and you were scared of losing him. That’s all. Besides, he was the same way whenever you flirted with anyone. The amount of fights you’d had to talk him out of due to him being jealous of the guys you’d hooked up with were insane.

You were transfixed as you watched him dancing and jumping around the field. Oh, you were going to kill him. Never mind this place doing it, you’d take it into your own hands. He was really testing your patience. His reckless behaviour was something you’d found amusing in the past but now when his life hung in the balance, you hated it. The exhale you released when he finally jumped over the finish line was loud enough for a couple of other guards to hear. Nobody questioned you, though. The perks of being higher in the ranks. 

During the dinner hour, you made sure you were on duty in the main dormitory. Even if it was against the rules — something you always tried to stick to in here — you needed to talk to Thanos. So, when you caught him heading to the bathroom, you followed. Once you were close enough, you grabbed his collar and pulled him to a secluded corner.

“What the fuck?” He groaned as you pushed him against the wall, his head hitting it. Not hard, he was just dramatic. “What’s your fuckin’ problem, huh?”

“Shut up,” you hissed, pulling your mask off. Thanos’ eyes widened in an almost comical manner. Was he high and imagining you?

“Obviously, I’m dreaming right now. Bet in two seconds you’ll be on your knees su-“ You glared at him almost daring him to finish that sentence. “I’m joking. I’m joking, damn. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here is the better question! Are you out of your mind?” You released your grip on his collar, taking a step back.

“Relax, I’m good. Ain’t nothing I can’t handle, baby. Now, answer my question. Why are you here and wearing that fuckin’ outfit?” His eyes scanned the pink jumpsuit, his fingers pointing at you. He couldnt wrap his mind around the fact you were here let alone as one of the guards. His sweet, caring best friend being one of the people who shot anyone who lost was something he was going to have a hard time accepting.

“…I work here every year. Have been for about five years now. It’s good money and helps keep me afloat. I’m not proud of it, okay? I hate it here, I hate this whole thing but… when an opportunity shows up, you don’t ignore it.” Your mask was held in your hand by your side, eyes glancing down towards it. 

Thanos held his hands up, shrugging his shoulders. “Ain’t judging you. I just pushed three people so if you’re making money by killing people then whatever.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Ah, but it is. Are you or are you not killing people here?”

Your head hung low in shame. It’s true, you were. The money you were earning came at the cost of people’s lives. Thanos reached out, his finger on your chin tilting your head up so your eyes could meet his. The concern in his matched your own. He could be high as a kite but he would always make sure you were okay. In his shitty life, you were the only thing that mattered. The thing that got him through the days.

“I know you know what you’re doing but be careful, you hear me?” His tone was stern, his deep voice causing little flutters in your stomach.

“I should be saying that to you. Don’t go getting yourself killed, Su-bong. I’ll try and help you as much as I can but there’s only so much I can do,” your voice was barely above a whisper as his thumb brushed against your cheek. He’d taken a step closer, his breath fanning across your face. He was a touchy-feely person, he always had been but never before had his touch made you feel like this. You put it down to the situation you were in. The pounding of your heart and the butterflies fluttering in your stomach were nothing more than nerves, obviously.

“Don’t get yourself in trouble for little old me, Senorita. I’ll be fine,” he winked, his signature smirk on his face. “I really need to piss, by the way. You gonna let me go, guard?”

You rolled your eyes, stepping aside. However, before you could pull your mask back on, Thanos pulled you into his chest, one of his hands resting on the back of your head and the other around your body as he hugged you close to him. You could hear his heart pounding against his chest, your own matching his rhythm. As your arms wrapped around him, you couldn’t help but wonder if you both really would make it out of here alive.

taglist (ask to be added!): @ldydeath @justsisse @djarindroid @angelofbooksworld @taivantaylor @sherlocke3d @sassyyoyo @mysatnin @basquiat-top @urmomsg1rlfreind @belladonna-303 @seunghyunwifey

[potatomountain]

Chapter Twenty-Five

📍Pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader

📍Summary: "What You Wanted"

📍WC: 3.8k

📍AU: detective/mafia

📍Genre: action, dark themes, poly romance

📍Warning(s): 18+ rating, cnc, gun threats, gun play, choking, 'kidnapping' if you squint, size kink, stomach bulge kink, threesome (of sorts), manhandling, penetration with no barrier, cream pie, ripped panties, reader essentially consents, thrill kink, multiple orgasms, dacryphilia

📍AN: Guess whats back! And a day early! 5 chapters after this but honestly so much is gunna happen hehehe

📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer , @skteezcursed and edited(usually) by the amazing: @daemour

📍dividers and banner made by me!

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It occurred to you the alarm that had gone off wasn’t really an emergency, but a ploy to keep you from asking questions you shouldn’t. After all, Yeosang had been watching. You didn’t know where the camera’s were, or what he could see, but you were even more certain that was the case a week later.

You had purposely asked Haru if she knew of anything going down around that time, and she had just confirmed your suspicions. Then you picked up that later in the week the Guardians had interjected, backing up the Vipers just as you had told Hongjoong.

But the real suspicious activity was the Vipers’ increase of goods from the docks- they were doing business with the Black Pirates.

Some of the girls speculated that the Pirates were helping for more territory over the river; others said they saw that without the Vipers, they would be the target of the Wolves. You supposed both could be true, but if you were correct you knew the most viable answer: if the Vipers lost, then San was lost.

The conflicting emotions and morals inside your head and heart were starting to boil over, unable to look Seonghwa in the face as he picked you up for the night. It was later than usual, the club had been more packed than normal with quite a bit of players killing some time. You were quite good at bartending, adding a little extra alcohol for some to get their lips loose, losing track of time in the process.

Yet Seonghwa hadn't been waiting long at all when you came out the back, a reminder that Yeosang had been watching and probably told him when you started closing up. Adjusting your skirt that kept riding up you approached him, taking note of the subtle way he eyed your legs.

Good, that would make this easier.

The skirt rode up even more once you were on the bike, bare inner thighs pressed against his rear, pressing closer as the heat from the bike radiated onto your skin. Your arms were tight around His waist, chest against his back, usually shy deliberate touches were now bold ‘accidental’ touches you would constantly apologize for.

Like digging your nails into his hips when he would make a turn, or grabbing his thighs when he would stop so you could ground yourself. The way you “adjusted” your skirt every chance you got just to rub against him and press your chest closer. You could tell from the way his muscles tensed up, and the white-knuckle grip on the handles that he was affected.

Once you arrived at your apartment, you didn't immediately step off the bike, nor unlatch from him. Your hesitance to head inside showed, thankfully it played in your favor.

“Angel?” Seonghwa sounded concerned. Good. Perhaps this would make it easier to bring him inside.

Slowly you stepped off the bike, took the helmet off and appeared flustered. “Can we talk? Inside? Please?” When he appeared reluctant you added on “you told me if I had doubts to talk to you. You aren't going back on that now?”

He softened, shaking his head and stepping off the bike once he turned it off. “Of course not. Let's head inside.” With his hand on the small of your back you made your ascend to your apartment.

Each step felt like an added weight on your heels, glancing back as you held his hand. If he could tell you were nervous, he didn't let on. Maybe you could play it off with your concerns. Seonghwa was a smart man though, so who knows how long you could keep up with deception.

Hopefully long enough to subdue him.

Once inside your apartment you kicked your shoes off, taking his hand once more once his were off too. “What is it, Angel?”

His obvious concern felt like a knife in the already growing wound. “Has Captain told you… about what we did in the gym a couple weeks back?”

Only because you were looking for it did you see it: the slightest tell of recognition. He buried it quickly under a look of confusion. “No, he hasn’t. What did you do?”

That obvious lie was like a shot of adrenaline. A sharp reminder of what you had to do. Any thought you had about asking him straight out was dashed from your mind.

With a coy smile you pulled him by the hand to your bedroom, his gaze dipping to the way your hand worked off the zipper of the jean vest you wore, nothing but the lace bra under it. The undercover work required more revealing clothing, but this you wore with this moment in mind. “I sucked him off, I wanted to do much more than that but there was an emergency.” Your words clearly affected him, just as you wanted, but you were still cautious. “But I haven’t seen or heard from him since… did I do something wrong?”

Seonghwa followed your every step, letting you pull him into the bedroom as your vest was opened and chest displayed. “You didn’t do anything wrong Angel… I’m sure I would’ve known about it.” You were positive he did know though.

“Then… can you ease my worries? W-with Chan I-” You trailed off, playing the part of dejected woman perfectly as you pulled those feelings to the surface. “I don’t want any more uncertainties about if I’m wanted or not. Please? Just a reminder?” It helped you had been so vulnerable with Seonghwa before, he didn’t seem to suspect it was staged.

Not as he followed you onto the bed, lust taking over his features as he reached out, fingers trailing over the lace bra. “We’ve been neglecting you again haven’t we Angel?”

You nodded, scooting more and more back on the bed so there was plenty of room for you both. “Just a bit.” The closer he got, the more you shut off your emotions. The wants and desires to do this under different circumstances. To completely indulge in the way his gaze devoured your body, to trust him with your heart, and give yourself over to the partnership the eight of them had.

But you weren’t one to trust so easily, not any more, and you couldn’t handle the lies. Not after everything. This wasn’t a desire for them physically any more, or a need for respect in their work. His lips on yours felt like a game, as if they gave what you wanted just to keep you at bay, to twist and manipulate you so you suited their needs.

This was personal.

You kissed back just as you wanted to, because even as your world was crumbling you still desired him, desired them. His touch still had heat pulsing between your thighs, still had you so eager to lose yourself to the way his hands worshiped your body. Over your breasts, down your sides, pushing your skirt up so he could slot his thigh between yours.

With a ragged moan you rolled the two of you over towards your right, straddling his waist and grinding down on his hips with clear desperation. “Hwa~ You look so good like this, under me.” Your lips were back on his in a heated kiss before he could respond, rolling your hips to stimulate the growing bulge you could feel. You were throbbing imagining it inside you, hitting deep every time you slammed down.

Shaking those thoughts off, your hands slipped up his shirt, slowly pushing it up. His kisses became hesitant, pulling away once your fingertips met his perky little nipples. “W-wait Angel, my shirt…”

“What about it?” You trailed kisses along his jaw, pulling one hand away to grab his hand and place it back on your ass when he had pulled it away. “Are you shy?”

“A little… please?” He pushed at your hands, pleading up at you.

With a reluctant sigh, you nodded, moving your hands to brace yourself by his shoulders, capturing his lips again as your hand slid into his hair. “Just don’t stop touching me then.” Thankfully he listened, his hands back on your ass, kneading the flesh there as you continued to kiss him.

In an instant it all shifted, the gun you were now pressing to the side of his head the reason. You kept one in your pillow to help you sleep better at night ever since you started the undercover work, and it was a blessing once you started to suspect.

Slowly you leaned back, keeping the gun trained on him as you wiped away all signs of desire from your features. “Cut the bullshit Seonghwa.”

He too had a stone expression, eyes hard as he stared down the barrel of your gun. “What are you doing?”

“Getting answers. You know how good of a shot I am, so why don’t you just listen to what I say and you’ll walk out of here alive.”

“With Mingi right next door?” He cocked a brow, meeting your gaze.

You smirked. “Really? That’s your retort? Nothing about my morality or oath I made as a cop? But threatening me with Mingi next door? You don’t want to get the police involved in this, don’t you? Better to kill me and cover it up huh? If I’m willing to shoot you, don’t you think I’m willing to shoot him too?”

His jaw went tense, eyes flicking away for a brief moment. If you still believed that he did care for you, you might take that as a sign of remorse. “What do you want to know?”

“First-” Keeping the gun trained with precision, you grabbed his hands and pulled them up to the headboard where you had a pair of cuffs hidden. “I knew you would look good in bondage.” When he pleaded your name, you tightened the cuffs. “Don’t. You had plenty of chances to tell me.”

“Tell you what?” He insisted, seemingly unaffected by the gun as you moved down his body and pulled his shirt up. He went deadly still, your eyes falling on the very evidence you needed. Scrawled on his ribcage, were the words “Black Pirate”.

Gone was the last bit of hope, the last chance you could convince yourself that you were being paranoid and that your distrust was wrongly placed. And with it, you just snapped. Laughter boiled out of you, insane laughter like this was the funniest, craziest thing to have ever happened. “I- I can’t believe it. I was right?”

You didn’t want to be.

“Angel-” Seonghwa’s plea was cut off by the muzzle of your gun being pressed to his lips.

“No. Don’t call me that. I’m not that.” You sneered out, laughter gone. “I wanted to trust you. I did trust you. But this? The Black Pirates?? Seriously?” 

It irked you how his gaze softened, concern there like a mother wanting to comfort their hurt child. “We were going to-”

“Tell me? When? After I fucked you all? Killed someone for you? Got so deep in that I wouldn’t have any escape if- Oh my God you were huh?” You swallowed hard at that daunting realization. “You were only going to tell me when I was so far in that you had no choice. Not because you trusted or cared for me. But because you were stuck with me and once I had enough blood on my hands only then would you tell me?”

He couldn’t meet your gaze. It hurt even more.

“The team comes first, it’s our shared secret, our personal feelings don’t matter.”

With a rise of anger clogging your throat you pressed the gun closer. “You had me believe I could be part of that, but I’m not. I’m not part of the team, of any of this! You used my vulnerability over Chan against me. Took advantage of the way they just tossed me aside. I trusted you, but you couldn’t trust me? Not without…” You broke off, shaking your head and trying to clear your thoughts.

You were a detective first. You had the law to uphold. This was not the right way to do it. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself you climbed off him, keeping the gun trained on him as you patted down his body. You found a gun on a calf hostler, tossed it on the chair out of reach with his pants, patting both down for any wire or tracking device. You turned his phone off for good measure, knowing Yeosang could probably track the location.

The whole time Seonghwa was watching you with that look in his eyes that was making your blood boil, but he didn’t speak. 

With the silence it gave you a moment to think. What could you do, this was a member of the black pirates- the higher up would be pleased. But you were also aware you had no way of bringing him in alone. Your evidence was nothing more than the tattoos now and the fact Seonghwa wasn’t denying that yes, they were. It was the whole unit too, and being the department of organized crime- well they would be the ones who would normally be called in to deal with this.

But you also couldn’t just let him go. You’ve held him at gunpoint, threatened his and Mingi’s life, and you knew their secret. They weren’t going to give you a chance to get evidence against them, nor were they going to let you live for very long either. You had this one night to figure it out.

Burning the bridge with SK was now a very bad idea. You were entirely alone, and doing something reckless and stupid.

No wonder why you got transferred.

“Angel-”

You swung back around to point the gun at him again, your emotions boiling in the pit of your stomach. “Stop calling me that!”

“Then talk to me! I can’t help-”

You climbed on top of him quickly, pressing the gun to his forehead as you sneered. “Help? Why the fuck would you want to help me? Your team comes first, and I’m not part of that remember.”

“Is that what this is really about?”

“No!” Yes- screamed in your head. “The Pirates have been active long before any of you became detectives. Wooyoung isn’t even an official one, and with the way Yeosang can erase an entire person from the internet, with access to police records and sealed files, I’m sure he could make any crimes you all did just disappear. Could make me disappear.”

“And you’re smart enough that you know this entire situation only hurts you, whether I live or die.” Seonghwa attempted to reason with you, and you wanted it to work. “So let me help you. Let me go, we can go talk to Hongjoong, and we can resolve this together. You don’t have to do this alone.”

You wanted, more than anything, to believe him. And you would’ve. You lowered the weapon, just an inch as you blinked back tears, only to jump into action when you noticed a shadow in your peripheral, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. You plummeted to the bed, large hands pushing your body down as the gun was tossed from your hands.

Instead a large hand was on your throat, squeezing hard enough your windpipe felt tight. Yunho stared down at you with such a murderous glare that any belief you had in Seonghwa was dashed. How could you talk it over with someone who wanted to kill you?

“Yunho! Don’t!” Seonghwa pleaded as you choked, grasping at his gloved hands to try and get him off you.

“She had a gun pointed at you so don’t give me that shit!” He snapped back, tearing his eyes away for just a second long enough for you to turn the tables. You kneed his balls and then kicked his leg to have him stumbling to the side. With a timed punch to his own windpipe you were out of his hold and rolling off the bed to grab your discarded gun. 

He was quick to recover, grumbling curses as he followed after you, grabbing your leg to pull you back on the bed. With a silent gasp of surprise, you kicked back at any part of him you could, hitting his jaw then shoulder, just to have him grab your other leg and have more leverage against you.

You managed to get the gun, grabbing it and bringing it up just as he had you on the bed again. He stilled, staring down the barrel of your gun as he held your waist down. “You reeeally want to do that, butterfly?”

The nickname brought back flashes of the club, the desire you had seen then once more in his eyes which just astonished you. He was panting, busted lip and a smirk on his features as he stuck his tongue out and licked the muzzle of the gun, daring you to pull the trigger.

He used your befuddlement against you, lifting your hips with one hand so you could feel the bulge in his pants, catching the spark in his eyes as he stared down at your throat where you knew there were bruises forming. Bruises in the shape of his fingers.

“Yunho- don’t.” Seonghwa warned again, something different about his tone this time that had you afraid of something else. They were mafia, meaning they committed crimes, killed people and probably-

You swallowed, throat sore as you tried to speak. “I’ll shoot-” It came out like a croak, much less threatening than you hoped for.

He laughed around the muzzle, tongue still playing with it like he was kissing it. “Yeah? Do it. Shoot me. Come one baby girl, you can shoot me, or you can fuck me.”

“For fuck’s sake Yunho now isn’t the time!!” For the first time since you had pulled the gun Seonghwa began to squirm to escape, attempting to at least. It would have clicked sooner in your brain if you weren’t so fixated on the way he licked the gun.

“But it is… isn’t it? You wanted us, wanted to trust us, and now that you think we don’t want that you’re lashing out. You want proof yeah? That we still want you?” Yunho’s words cut deep but-

He wasn’t wrong.

At your core, you just wanted a place to belong. No matter how well you did on the job, how many things you achieved, it all meant nothing without someone to trust. Someone in your corner. You’ve never had that, and they have given you a taste of their corner.

You wanted that. But it meant nothing unless they wanted that.

All the fight was pulled from you as Yunho flipped you over, holding your hands above your head with one hand as he ripped your panties off with the other. He was rough. Two fingers shoved into your pussy before you could even react.

“She’s so wet Hwa- fuck. You get off on the fight baby girl? Like to be choked and tossed around? I like doing that to you.” Yunho whispered in your ear, nibbling at the flesh as his fingers pumped into you roughly.

The gun was still in your hand, you could easily point it at Seonghwa to get Yunho to stop. This was wrong, he was being mean about it and yet-

With a moan you dropped the gun, instead gripping the sheets and lifting your ass for more of what he was giving you. “Told you.” He chuckled darkly, fingers removed just to get shoved into your mouth.

Even as he let go of your wrists to undo his pants, you remained pliant under him, glancing over at Seonghwa while you sucked your own juices off the two appendages. He had stilled, watching the scene before him while biting his lip.

You held his eye content as Yunho pushed his entire length into you, a raspy cry leaving your sore throat and eyes going wide. You knew how this looked, especially on paper, but you made no effort to stop it.

Not when Seonghwa looked at you with such impatient desire your pussy throbbed around Yunho’s dick slamming into the deepest parts of you. His size matched Mingi’s, and there was the drag of metal on his tip that hit all the sweet spots with you still being so tight. No pleas to stop would be coming out of your mouth, just moans and pants as you just gave in.

Yunho fucked you with such a force the whole bed shook, his hand grabbing your throat again to bend you back, the shift in angle having you cream on his dick with the lack of oxygen. You felt high, even a bit like you were going to pass out, but you latched onto consciousness like your life depended on it.

In a way, it did.

“That’s it. Maybe San was right, you are made for us. Taking my cock so fucking well- I can see it bulging out your cute tummy. See that Hwa?” Yunho rasped out against your ear, staring down your front.

Seonghwa shifting into your view was not what you were expecting, his now freed hand pressing against your stomach and hissing. “You’re being too hard on her.” Yunho must have tossed him a spare handcuff key and you were just too delirious to notice.

“The brat was acting out, I’m just- ngh fuck- putting her in her place.” Yunho’s words were now heavier, his grip on your throat different from when he was choking you earlier, this time with the intent to be pleasurable for you. Couple that with Seonghwa pressing down on your stomach where you could feel Yunho bulging it out with each thrust, you felt completely fucked dumb.

Just let them do what they want to you, because at least they wanted you. Tears sprung in your eyes, from the pleasure, pain, and raw emotion that began to surface.

Seonghwa wiped them away, now kneeling before you and cupping your face in his hands. Finally you moved your own hands, grabbing his biceps to hold on as both you and the bed rocked harder from Yunho’s growing erratic thrusts. “It’s alright Angel, we’ll take care of you.” His soft words were a harsh comparison to Yunho’s roughness.

You couldn’t formulate any words as another climax hit you, this time your vision becoming hazy as your eyes rolled back. Fucked through your orgasm, as soon as Yunho’s hips stopped their assault you blacked out, the last things you felt were hot cum filling your womb and gentle kisses on your face.

In the darkness of your mind, both warmths eluded you… drowned out by how utterly broken you felt.

Taglist (Capped): @mingsolo | @wowie-hockey | @crispybaguettes | @tiny-apocalypse

| @philijack | @lelaleleb | @isiloiale | @vannabanana1995  | @piratequeen-queenofgames

| @starstruckforyou | @minheeskitten | @amphiroxx  | @cloudysannie | @sugarnspice630

| @sanhwalvr | @plutoneu |  @sousydive |  @fatalt | @iwishiwasrichasfuck

| @bitchwhytho | @st4rhwa | @thesafecafe | @alextheweeb7 | @ddaeing

Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!

[handful0fteeth]

pull on your pout (just open your mouth)

stranger kinks 1: pegging

summary: eddie has some kinks he's never told anyone about, let alone explored, and you're more than happy to help him out.

pairings: eddie munson x fem!reader (eddie munson x afab!reader if you squint)

warnings: smut, minors DNI, explicit language, lots of dirty talk, sub!eddie, dom!reader, rough sex, (mild) painplay, (slight) puppy play

words: 4.5k

The moment you laid eyes on Eddie Munson, you knew you had to make him scream.

He was so pretty, so cocksure as he floated through the crowd of the metal show you’d happened to meet at, and his easy smile ignited something within you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. A few people called out greetings as he strolled past them, and he’d return them in kind, either with a flourish of his hand or an exaggerated bow. He had a red cup he’d been sipping from when he sauntered up to where you were, leaned against a metal barricade just after the show ended, and the grin he flashed over the lip of it only confirmed your newfound desire.

“Mind if I bum one of those off you?” he asked, pointing a ringed finger at the cigarette that dangled from your mouth. You puffed once, twice, looking him over in thought before reaching into your skirt's waistband and pulling out your pack.

“Thanks, gorgeous,” he crooned. He plucked a cigarette out and tucked it between his lips, shifting his cup to his opposite hand so he could pat down his pockets, clearly in search of something. After a moment, you reached into your shirt and retrieved your lighter from its place inside your bra.

“Need a light?” you asked, flicking the wheel and illuminating Eddie’s face with firelight. His dark eyes, smeared in black kohl, glittered at you, and the way his smile stretched around the cigarette as he bent toward your flame made your stomach flip. He smelled of cheap weed and beer, sweat and cigarette smoke, cologne and earth - you had to physically restrain yourself from leaning down and taking an indulgent whiff of his hair only because you knew it’d make you look like an absolute lunatic.

“Much obliged,” he said, smoke curling from his full, pink lips. You watched them purse, and his cheeks hollowed as he sucked on his smoke, the end flaring cherry red, before he tipped his head back and exhaled audibly. When his eyes met yours again, you realized they sparkled all on their own without the assistance of a lighter.

“Wha’s your name?” His speech was just the slightest bit slurred, and you huffed out a laugh before angling your body toward him.

“Y/N. Yours?”

“Eddie Munson. ‘S a pleasure.” He draped one arm across his stomach while the other swept out dramatically behind him - unfortunately, it just so happened to be the arm that clutched his drink. As he bowed toward you, his hand accidentally tipped his cup just a little too far, and dark liquid began to pour out onto the asphalt freely. It splattered noisily for a few seconds before Eddie seemed to realize what he’d done, and he swore as he straightened up and snatched his arm back. 

“Fuck. Aw, well, ‘s for the best, I guess,” he reasoned, staring into the nearly empty cup as if it’d personally offended him. You surmised that, at this moment, it probably had. “Tastes like shit anyway.”

Even in his inebriated state, talking to him was easier than talking to most men - hell, it was easier than talking to most people in general. No awkward silences or lulls compelled you to drag on your cigarette just to give your mouth something to do - the words flowed out of you effortlessly, as if you’d known him for years. His laugh was like music, loud and sincere, bursting out of his mouth with abandon even when you didn’t think you’d said anything amusing. He kept edging closer and closer to you the entire conversation, and you let him, mainly because you wanted a closer look at his pretty face.

His hair, long and curly and matted to his forehead with sweat, coiled softly around his high, pale cheeks, and if you’d had enough alcohol in you, you would’ve reached up and pushed a lock behind his ear for him. He towered over you, which made the filthy thoughts swirling around in your head all the more thrilling. Something inside you, something mean and wicked, wanted to make this boy cry beneath you.

When Eddie stumbled into you, tripping over his own two feet, you asked if he needed a ride home. He shook his head but didn’t move to pull away from you. His hand was behind your body, curled onto the barricade for purchase, and you were so close you could feel the warmth radiating off his body as you tilted your head up to look into his eyes.

“Got a friend ‘m stayin’ with,” he murmured, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll be okay. You can gimme your number though if you wan’ me to call you when I get to where I’m goin’.”

It was so forward that had it come out of anyone else’s mouth, you would’ve snorted and left him cold. Eddie wasn’t anyone else, though.

“You got a pen?”

Shockingly, he did - he extracted a fat-tipped permanent marker from the pocket of his leather jacket. You kept it to yourself how funny it was that he didn’t have a lighter but was carrying around a huge marker.

Without missing a beat, you lifted a hand and tugged down the collar of his shirt, exposing the creamy flesh of his collarbone. The little whoosh of air that left his lips didn’t escape you as you touched the felt tip of the marker to his skin and slowly wrote down your phone number. Beneath it, you signed your name and punctuated it all with a small, black heart. Eddie stayed still as stone while you wrote on him. It was as if your audacity, the arrogance of marking his flesh, had shocked him into a state of placidity. 

When your eyes met again, there was a heat in his gaze that hadn’t been there moments before. You smirked, capped the marker, and slipped it back inside his jacket.

“Make sure you call,” you said, your voice low. “You wouldn’t wanna worry me, now would you?”

Eddie shook his head slowly, almost dazedly. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed and flashed him a cloyingly sweet smile. 

“Good.” You raised one hand and rested it gently against his cheek, silently reveling in how tiny shivers rippled throughout his entire body at your touch, and patted him on the face condescendingly. You swore that, for a moment, right as you were pulling your hand away, you saw Eddie go to lean into your touch.

“I’ll be waiting.”

With that, you untucked yourself from against Eddie’s body and traipsed away.

He did, in fact, call you the very next morning and ask you on a proper date.

Whether or not that date ended up with Eddie fucking your brains out while you bent over the front seat of his van, scratching grooves into the cracked leather seats and practically drooling at the way his cock felt as it drilled inside you, was another matter entirely. (It did; you offered to help pay to fix the upholstery; Eddie refused, and the scratches still stare up at you knowingly every time you enter the van.)

That said, it didn’t take long at all to figure out that sometimes - a surprising number of “sometimes” - Eddie loved foisting control over to you just as much as he loved wrenching it away. He’d first admitted as much a few weeks after you started seeing each other. You’d been making out, ass planted firmly in his lap and hands plunged in his thick mass of hair when you gave a handful at the nape of his neck an experimental tug. Nothing too hard, just a test of the waters.

Eddie moaned.

He looked positively scandalized the second the sound had left his mouth, but you didn’t give him enough time to be embarrassed. Instead, you twisted your hand, yanking the curls in your fist until they were taut; Eddie’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, lids fluttering, and his jaw dropped wide open to loose another pathetic, delicious sound.

“That feel good, baby?” you asked. 

“Y-Yeah,” he whined. You slackened your grip just enough to let his head bob forward a bit and then snatched it straight back by tangling both hands in the hair on either side of his neck. He sat up straighter, his spine snapping into one long line as you gave him a wolfish grin. You only paused when you noticed the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

“D’you need me to ease up?” You would have, of course, in a heartbeat - pain for pleasure’s sake was one thing, but it was another thing entirely to inflict pain just for the hell of it, especially when the person you were inflicting pain on couldn’t handle it. But Eddie just blinked at you, his brown eyes glossy and distant, almost as if he was starting to drift off somewhere, and smiled dreamily.

“No,” he said. “Pull harder.”

And so you did.

Later, when he was bucking into you from below, keening and whimpering like he was dying, scalp no doubt burning from the consistent abuse you’d demonstrated toward his hair, you leaned down into his ear and asked him if he liked when you hurt him like this. 

“Yes, fuck,” he gasped. “I love it, I love it, please, more, please.”

“You think I should do this more often? Hm?”

“Whenever you want, Jesus Christ.” His back arched beautifully as you dragged your long, sharp nails down his bare chest, staining his pale skin with angry red lines. He grabbed your hips and held you in place, fucking into you desperately, unable to contain himself.

“You like it when I mark you up?” you growled, determined to stay focused through the stars exploding behind your eyes and the pleasure burning its way through your body. “When I own you like this? You’re just a little painslut for me, aren’t you, baby?”

When Eddie came, and he came hard, he was sobbing, “Yes, yes, yes, own me, use me, fuck, hurt me, I’m yours.”

You made sure that afterward when you could extricate yourselves from his bed, you took great care in tenderly washing and kissing the marks you left on him in the shower. You also washed his hair for him, choosing to massage his stinging scalp for so long the water was cold by the time you both hopped out. 

You asked him later, while he was snuggled up behind you in his bed, arms wrapped possessively around your middle and nose buried in your wet hair, if he really, really liked everything you’d done.

“Most definitely,” he murmured, kissing your neck. 

“You made such pretty sounds,” you said, and Eddie squirmed. He could sing your praises all day, wax poetic about how beautiful and sexy and perfect he thought you were, but when you returned that sentiment in kind, he tended to shrink. You resolved to fix that habit at a later date.

“You never told me you liked all that,” you said, reaching back to rest a hand on his flank. “I woulda done it sooner.”

“You never asked,” Eddie said simply. “‘Sides, that stuff is tame compared to other shit I’m interested in.”

Oh? Eddie tensed as soon as it seemed to register what he’d said, but you couldn’t stop yourself. He piqued your curiosity; that wasn’t your fault, and besides - you needed to know what else could make Eddie Munson whine for you immediately.

“You don’t say? Pray tell, what would be that ‘other shit?’”

“Uh…sorry, can’t hear you, sleeping.” He crushed himself against your back and faked a loud, raucous snore right in your ear. You laughed, and to his credit, he did actually fall asleep rather quickly after that, but you both knew you weren’t going to let that go so easily.

It took a while, months, before you could chip away at the embarrassment barring you from all of Eddie’s desires. You never pushed, never wanted to make him feel like he had to tell you anything, just gently encouraged him by promising there was nothing he could say that would scare you off or gross you out. Mostly, Eddie just liked pain - receiving and giving. He made the sweetest sounds when you satiated the more masochistic side of him: slapping him squarely across the face, scoring marks into his smooth back and chest, winding his hair around your fist, and pulling. 

He liked it when you whispered filthy, degrading things into his ear, too, possibly even more than the pain. You discovered how deeply he appreciated being called a slut early on, but it wasn’t until one night when you were riding him into the mattress, that the phrase “good dog” tumbled past your lips without much thought. Eddie’s orgasm swept through him without warning, and you drank in the shocked, blissed-out expression that contorted his face while making a mental note of that particular kink.

His final confession came after the fog of intoxication had settled over the pair of you one day, beer and weed buzzing through your veins and making Eddie’s inhibitions low enough to admit that he’d always, secretly, been curious about what it’d feel like to get fucked in the ass.

“Oh?”

“I…yeah, I guess,” he said, throwing an arm over his eyes as he lay on his back. 

“How curious are we talkin’ here?”

“Like…I dunno…very?”

“Baby. Look at me.”

One of your favorite things about Eddie was how quickly he obeyed when you lowered your voice. It was like it didn’t even occur to him not to listen. He peeked at you from around his forearm.

“Do you want me to fuck you in the ass, puppy?”

The sweet, high noise that bubbled up his throat as he nodded stoked that need in your belly, which demanded you do everything in your power to bring Eddie to tears as he writhed underneath you. 

That conversation is how you got here tonight.

Eddie waits for you patiently on his bed, naked, rolled onto all fours with his head bowed low between his shoulders, the pale globes of his ass arched skyward. His dark curls pool around his face, so you can’t see it, but you watch his back rise and fall rapidly with his breathing, and the backs of his thighs are trembling with anticipation. 

Fenagling a strap-on is more challenging than you’d originally thought. Slotting the dildo into place was unexpectedly tricky - it’s one you purchased years ago, and admittedly, the pink, sparkling hunk of silicone looks a little silly nestled amongst the otherwise imposing black material. But when Eddie caught a glimpse of it coming out of your bag tonight, his eyes went wide as saucers, and it took a moment for his brain to stop short-circuiting enough to carry on a conversation with you. You told him to stay put while you fought with the smooth, cold leather around your hips, and he has, wanting so badly to be good for you. His cock hangs hard and flushed between his hips, twitching intermittently as precum beads from the tip and drools onto his bedsheets.

“Just a minute longer, puppy. Are you okay?” you call, and Eddie nods.

“‘M fine, angel.”

“Good. Why don’t you stroke your cock while I finish up here, hm?”

He obeys, slipping a hand down between his legs to grip the base of his cock. His body slumps slightly, and he turns his head out as it’s pressed into the sheets. Eddie mewls softly as you tighten the last strap against your thigh, and you steal a glance at him. His fist moves slowly over himself, stroking from base to tip and then back again in carefully measured pumps. 

He doesn’t notice when you sidle up behind him, totally unaware of your presence, until you drag your nails featherlight over the back of his legs. He shudders, gasping sharply through his teeth, and his hand stills on his cock.

“Will you hand me the lube, baby?”

Eddie releases his dick to pat a hand around the bed, and eventually, he presses the small, cylindrical bottle of lube into your palm. It’s half-empty, thoroughly used in the weeks leading up to tonight, and the plastic sticks to your skin a bit as you snap the cap open and drizzle lubricant onto your first two fingers.

He’s taken more than just two fingers, many times now - a few nights ago, you squeezed four inside his ass before he came all over his stomach. You’ve taken this entire process very slowly, partially because you’d hate to hurt the poor thing and ruin his fantasy before it even really had a chance to begin and partially because you just love how he cries when you tease him open nice and lazily. 

You lean over him, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades as you swipe a dollop of lube over his hole. He hisses, flinching away from your fingers a bit.

“Cold,” he complains, and you shush him gently.

“I know, baby. Just relax, you’re shakin’ like a leaf.”

“‘M excited,” Eddie mumbles, and you kiss his back again.

You swirl your fingers around his puckered hole, teasing the rim and nudging the tips just the slightest bit inside to coax the muscle into softening for you. Eddie sighs and shifts a bit so he can grab his cock again.

When you press your index finger inside him, up to the first knuckle, Eddie keens and drives his face into the bed. That just won’t do.

“Uh uh,” you admonish. Your free hand tangles in his hair at the root, and you yank his head back up, forcing him to steady himself on one elbow. He gasps, then whines, trying to cast a look over his shoulder at you. 

“You don’t hide from me,” you remind him. “‘Specially when it muffles those pretty noises. Understand?”

“Y-Yes. Sorry, angel,” he breathes, and the slick, hurried sounds below you alert you to how much faster he’s stroking his cock now. You probe your fingers inside him further, watching and waiting for any sign of distress or pain he doesn’t enjoy until you’ve sunk all the way to the top of your palm. After you’ve given him a moment to adjust, you pull out almost entirely and bend over him until your chest presses into his back. 

“D’you remember what you say if you can’t take it, puppy?” you whisper against the shell of his ear. He shivers and nods.

“Mmhm. Mercy,” he says. 

“Good boy, that’s right. Feel that?” You release your hold on his hair to fist the dildo in your hand and tap it against where your fingers stretch his hole. Eddie chokes on the breath he tries to suck in, and his hips stutter forward.

“This is goin’ in your ass tonight, baby. Do you think you can handle all that?”

“Fuck, yes, yes, I can,” he assures you. 

“Yeah? Gotta finger you open first. Make sure you’re ready. Although, I bet you’d love it if I just stuffed my cock inside you right now.” You never would, and you both know that; you mutually agreed that foregoing necessary prep work would end disastrously. But the way Eddie swears and clenches around the tips of your fingers is so fucking cute that, for a moment, you’re tempted.

You drive your fingers inside him again, pumping it in and out fast enough that Eddie doesn’t have a moment to catch his breath. He splutters pathetically below you, bucking into his hand while simultaneously trying to fuck himself back on your fingers, and you just let him - far be it from you to deny yourself the pleasure of watching Eddie Munson act like a complete slut.

A few minutes pass before you feel comfortable enough to add a third finger inside his ass, and this time you purposefully thrust them right against his prostate. His back curls like a cat’s before he allows himself to fall flat on his face. He’s a wonderful, obedient boy because he makes sure no sheets or pillows obstruct his pretty mouth, just as you asked.

“Fuck, that feels so fucking good, angel, Christ,” he moans, brows knitted together so tight he almost looks pained. “More, please, I want more. I can take it.”

“Aww, my puppy’s so excited,” you croon, and he nods fervently. You crook your fingers and settle them deep inside his ass, circling that sensitive bundle of nerves until he’s panting and thrusting sloppily into his fist. You could make him cum like this, you know you could, but where’s the fun in that? You want him to cum on your strap-on; you want him to experience spasming around something thick and hard and unrelenting, just as he’s fantasized about. 

He hiccups when you slot your pinky finger inside his ass alongside the three other slick digits. When you start pumping into him earnestly, spreading all four fingers inside the loosening ring of muscle, Eddie gives you what you’ve been craving since the moment you met.

Eddie cries.

Sobs wrack his lithe frame as you work him open, dribbling more lube onto his hole and pressing it inside. If you weren’t so turned on that your pussy was drooling down your thigh, you might’ve giggled at the obscene, wet sounds his ass made every time you stuffed him full again. 

“You’re doing such a good job taking it, puppy. My good little slut. That’s what you are, huh?”

“U-Uh-huh, shit.”

“I know, baby, I know. You’re so pathetic for me, crying on my fingers like this. You gonna cry on my cock, too?”

“If you - fucking hell - if you want me to, angel,” he offers, and you laugh, licking a stripe up the side of his neck. His skin is rich with the salt of his sweat, and you can’t help yourself. You force his head to one side with a hand in his hair and follow the trail you licked with your teeth, setting their edge against his soft, welcoming flesh until you bite. Eddie whimpers and trembles for you, so pretty, so perfect, and you bite him even harder. You want him to bruise; you want him to walk around Hawkins tomorrow with your mark proudly emblazoned on his pale throat. 

“I-I need, I need, angel, I n-need,” Eddie stammers, breath coming in shallow, short puffs around the fragments of his sentence. You detach your teeth from his neck and straighten back up.

“You need? What do you need?”

“You, I need you,” he weeps. “Need you inside me, please, please, I can’t take it anymore-”

“You’ll take whatever I decide you’ll take, puppy,” you say. When you pull all four fingers out of Eddie’s twitching hole, he cries out like he’s in pain, like you’re trying to kill him. You admire your handiwork, spreading his ass apart with both hands and watching his red, slick hole flutter as it attempts to remain open despite its newfound emptiness. 

“You’re so beautiful down here. All gaped open for me like a whore.” Eddie nods, though you aren’t sure if he actually registers anything you’re saying. He’s so blissed out already, so eager, you think he’d agree to whatever happened to fall out of your mouth right now.

“What color are you on, Eds?” you ask, and the way your voice swings upward into its usual cadence seems to snap him back to reality. He reaches for you, fingers outstretched until they manage to graze your thigh and squeezes it in reassurance.

“Green. I’m so fuckin’ green, baby.”

You smile. “Yeah? Havin’ fun?”

“Absolutely. I’m alright, angel, don’t worry.”

“Alright. Keep yourself spread for me, puppy. I wanna watch my cock disappear inside you.”

Eddie swears and complies instantly, releasing his slippery, dark red cock and placing both hands on either side of his ass. He pulls his cheeks apart dutifully, black nails digging into plush flesh, and even deepens the arch in his back for you as he settles into this new position. 

You slather an abundance of lube on your dildo, so much that it drips onto the sheets, and line the head up with Eddie’s hole. 

“Ready?”

“Mmm.”

“Take a deep breath, baby.”

The head pops in with little to no resistance, vanishing completely inside Eddie’s hole, and though you obviously can’t feel it, a moan tumbles out of your throat. It’s so fucking hot, seeing Eddie like this, knowing you’re the cause of it, and it takes quite a bit of self-control not just to feed him the rest of your cock right away and pound him into the mattress. He’d like it, too, the slut. But you refrain.

You drag in a breath through your teeth and press into him slowly, filling him bit by agonizing bit, and he voices his need loudly beneath you. One hand claws his mattress desperately, almost like he’s trying to crawl away, while the other jerks his swollen cock thoughtlessly, and it seems all he knows how to say right now is “please.” Please, please, please. After a while, when you’re more than halfway inside him, the word loses all meaning for you. You have to wonder if it even had meaning for Eddie in the first place or if it was just the only one his brain could conjure up to say.

“That’s it, baby, look at you,” you pant. Your hips are pressed flush to Eddie’s ass, the dildo buried inside him to the base. He writhes, gasping, sputtering, the picture of desperation. You want to keep him this way forever - speared on your dick, aching for it, needing you more than air, crying so prettily just for you. It’s selfish, but fuck, maybe you’re okay with that.

“Do you need a second, puppy?”

“No,” he wails, apparently offended by the question. He bucks against you so hard you almost lose your balance, and you steady yourself by laying your hands over where he’s still spreading himself. “God, fuck me, fuck me please, fuck my ass, angel, I’m going fucking crazy here.”

A wicked smirk curls across your lips. If that’s what he wants, who are you to deny him? That’d just be plain mean.

You yank him toward you, dragging him to the very edge of the bed, causing him to lose his balance - and his grip on his ass. Before he can collect himself, you gather his wrists into one hand and pin them to the small of his back. It looks a bit silly, you have to admit; his hands are so much bigger than yours, rough and callused from hours of guitar practice, and truthfully, if he wanted to break free of your grasp, he could do so with not even half the strength you’re currently exerting just to keep him somewhat contained. But that’s the beauty of Eddie’s submission - he doesn’t want to break free. He wants to be manhandled, thrown around like he’s so much smaller and weaker than he truly is; he wants to be used.

Most importantly, he wants you to use him.

It’s fucking intoxicating.

You twist a long, thick rope of his hair around your free hand and tug his head back, forcing his gaze skyward. You notice the shimmer of drool on the corner of his lips and chuckle.

“You wanna take it, then take it.”

You pull out, just until the very edge of the dildo is left inside Eddie’s quivering hole, and then slam back inside him again. He slackens against you, and you’re confident he would collapse if you weren’t forcing him up by the hair. You can see his lashes twitching, no doubt from his eyes rolling straight into the back of his head. Your name wrapped inside his wrecked, watery voice is all you need to keep thrusting.

You set a brutal pace almost immediately. Eddie’s bed squeaks and rattles from the force of it, lifting far enough off the ground that the frame starts to screech into the adjacent wall. The sound of Eddie’s strained, keening cries, punctuated by skin slapping viciously against skin, is like the sweetest harmony you’ve ever heard. You pull him toward you, forcing him almost back on his haunches and plaster sloppy, open-mouthed kisses across his back and shoulders.

“You’re doing so fucking good, puppy,” you grunt. “You’re taking it like a fuckin’ pro. So hard for me, too, I bet you’re just aching, huh?”

All Eddie can do is nod. You twist your hand, compelling him to turn his face toward you, and crane your neck to capture his lips in a kiss that’s mostly teeth and tongue. He whimpers into your mouth, allowing you to lick your way inside and swallow all the beautiful, agonized sounds he’s making just for you. You don’t have enough hands, you decide - you need more to scratch him with, to stroke his cock, to choke him and slap him and make him gag on your fingers. You need more of him; you need to take anything that he can give you all for yourself. It belongs to you, just as he does.

The possessiveness that burns through your belly spurs you on, and you growl filth huskily into his ear. “You’re mine, you understand that? Mine. No one else’s ever gonna make you feel this good, are they, puppy?”

“N-No, angel, jus’ you…yours, all yours,” he slurs. 

“That’s right. Your pretty little hole is mine, mine to fuck and fill as much as I want, isn’t it?”

“Fuck, uh huh, yes.”

“Next time, I’m gonna fuck you on your back. Have you spread your legs for me like a little whore. I wanna watch your face while I wreck you, watch how much of a cockslut you are-”

“Jesus Christ, God, angel, I-I’m cumming, I can’t st-ah!”

Eddie shudders and falls silent for a moment, just long enough for you to look around his shoulder and see how his cock pulses before the first rope of cum splatters onto the sheets below. Then, Eddie screams. It’s a sound torn straight from the depths of his soul, suffering and ecstasy all rolled into one perfect package. You keep fucking him through the shockwaves of his orgasm and watch the cum dribble down his throbbing cock, spilling onto the bed and dripping messily down his thighs. 

“That’s my good boy, you did so fuckin’ well for me, baby,” you coo. “You didn’t even have to touch yourself, I’m so proud of you, sweet thing.”

It takes a while for Eddie to come back down to Earth after that. He mumbles nonsense as you ease out of his ass and lower him onto the bed - in a dry, unsullied portion next to the wall - and doesn’t even notice when you leave for a moment to grab a wet, warm washcloth to clean him up with. He seems to snap out of his haze when you loosen the harness straps, and it falls to the ground with a thud.

He reaches for you wordlessly, long, thin fingers shaking as he clenches and unclenches them against his palm. Your heart swells and aches inside your chest as you clasp his hand and press a kiss to the back of it. 

“I’m so proud of you, baby,” you repeat. You gingerly brush a lock of hair out of Eddie’s face, revealing his flushed, tear-stained cheeks and swollen lips. He blinks wet lashes at you, brown eyes foggy and unfocused. His smile is sweet, shy even, and he tucks himself against you as you settle into bed.

“Wanna…do that again,” he rasps after you’ve wrapped him up in your arms. You chuckle and kiss the top of his head.

“We can do that whenever you’d like, sweet thing.”

He hums in approval. You lay like that for a while, bodies curled around each other, stroking Eddie’s cheek and occasionally pressing a kiss to his temple. You don’t realize you’ve nearly dozed off until Eddie calls your name, and you shake yourself awake.

“Hm?”

“D’you hear what I said?”

“No, puppy, I’m sorry. What was that?”

“I said my arm’s asleep.”

You snort, and so does Eddie as he rolls himself out from under you enough to free his tingling appendage. He drapes it around your shoulders, and this time, he drags you in against his chest. His hair tickles your cheek as he kisses the tip of your nose.

“Thank you,” he breathes. 

“My pleasure. Oh, and baby?”

“Hm?”

“Next time, you’re taking something bigger.”

The shiver slithering Eddie’s spine tells you all you need to know.

[varyajc]

poking my head out of my cave for hashira headcanons, what they would do if they became jealous

HASHIRA HEADCANONS

what they would do if they were ;; jealous!

a/n ;; put your party hats on, we reached 10 followers!!

╰┈➤ Himejima Gyomei ;; The Stone Hashira

: ̗̀➛ He would be very gentle about it, along with being very open. He wouldn’t exactly say anything right away, because he trusts you. However, he feels the need to communicate his feelings, so that’s what he did. You were very understanding and did everything in your power to help him feel better. He was honestly overwhelmed how much effort you put into making him feel better.

I’d say no drama would be caused, issue would most likely be solved in less than three days at most.

╰┈➤ Shinazugawa Sanemi ;; The Wind Hashira

: ̗̀➛ He would be very possessive

This man, right here, is not afraid to show his emotions when it comes to you. He would wrap his arms around you, with his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your stomach. He’d probably also be kissing your cheek every 5 minutes. (Leaving possible love marks in front of the man hitting on you.)

I’d say, yes, drama would be caused. However, he can’t stay mad at you. Issue would be solved in a week or less.

╰┈➤ Iguro Obanai ;; The Serpent Hashira

: ̗̀➛ Hmm, for this man is tricky. I feel like he’d be very quiet about it, but he’d be fuming next to you.

He isn’t too big on public affection, so he’d just stand next to you, vein popping out of his head, with that sharp glare of his. That stare is enough to scare off the man hitting on you. He’d probably go on a rant how you’re his when the both of you return home.

I wouldn’t say this situation would cause drama, more likely cause tension for a day or two.

╰┈➤ Tomioka Giyu ;; The Water Hashira

: ̗̀➛ Self-conscious. I don’t know how else to put it, I’m sorry.

Listen, this man’s self-esteem is almost at rock-bottom, you have to be very careful on how much affection or how friendly you are towards others. He probably wouldn’t bring it up, but you eventually notice, practically forcing it outta him.

You have to reassure him constantly for the next week or two.

╰┈➤ Mitsuri Kanroji ;; The Love Hashira

: ̗̀➛ Uh, for this woman it’s hard, I’d say she’d be very affectionate?

Once she noticed the man hitting on you, she’d start grabbing your hand and hugging you. She’s a sweet-heart, she wouldn’t tell you until you both got home that evening. She told you about her issue with it and was generally being very open. This made the situation 100x easier, and everything was solved that night.

You took her out to dinner the next day just to be safe.

╰┈➤ Rengoku Kyojuro ;; The Flame Hashira

: ̗̀➛ He’d be mature about it!

Like many others on this list, he wouldn’t say anything until the two of you got home, so you could enjoy your evening. He’d also be very open and honest. However, he’d probably be very upset when he saw the man hitting on you. Not that he doesn’t trust you, it’s just a little upsetting to see a man hitting on your spouse.

You guys spent the night cuddling.

╰┈➤ Tokito Muichiro ;; The Mist Hashira

: ̗̀➛ He’d be very confused why he felt the need to slap the man in front you.

When he first saw the young man hitting on you, he’d get very angry. Yet he also feels confused about his feelings, he doesn’t understand why he’s so angry about a young man “talking” with you. He spoke to you later about it, he explained his feelings and he doesn’t understand why he feels upset about it. You assured him you only have eyes for him.

╰┈➤ Kocho Shinobu ;; The Insect Hashira

: ̗̀➛ She’d be upset about it, but also takes care of the situation maturely

When she first witnessed the scene in front of her, she just put her anger behind a smile. However, when the two of you got home, she very calmly but coldly explained her feelings and why she felt the way she felt, you felt somewhat scared to be honest. You reassured her, and nothing else came out of the situation.

╰┈➤ Uzui Tengen ;; The Sound Hashira

: ̗̀➛ Ugh, this man would be very cocky about it.

He doesn’t even bring it up, he KNOWS you can’t and won’t find anybody better than him, so he knows you won’t leave him for some homeless rando that looks like he hasn’t showered in decades. He doesn’t act weird about it, he goes on about it his day rather than bring it up. Nothing comes out of this situation.

@varyajc - DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, OR CLAIM MY CONTENT AS YOUR OWN. YOU WILL GET BLOCKED AND REPORTED. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 28 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: As parents-to-be, you and Bradley start to get used to a new kind of routine. You've somehow replaced nights out at the bar with nausea, exhaustion, and a seemingly never ending ache for your husband. And he's showing you with his words and actions how ready he is for whatever comes next.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, pregnancy, vomiting, angst, fluff

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

On Monday morning, you woke up to Bradley in his uniform making coffee and toast when you wandered into the kitchen in nothing but his old UVA shirt. "You're up early," you mumbled with a smile, and he dropped the teaspoon he was holding onto the counter. 

"Hey," he crooned, rushing over to you and touching your belly like you were made out of porcelain. "How did you sleep?" he asked, kissing your forehead. He was fresh out of the shower, his skin still warm and his hair damp. 

"Okay," you whispered. "I'm starving."

"Yeah? You think you can eat?" he asked, already pulling you toward the toaster. But you were burying your nose in his neck and inhaling deeply before kissing his scars, making your glasses go crooked on your face.

"You smell so good."

He chuckled. "I just used your body wash like I always do."

"Mmm," you hummed, still holding onto him as he buttered a piece of toast for you. After a good sleep, you were feeling great, and a smile found your face as you thought about the reminder you set on your phone to call your doctor at lunchtime. "Hey, Daddy?"

Bradley's eyes practically rolled back as he looked at the ceiling and groaned. "The fact that it means two different things now when you call me that is going to drive me insane."

You laughed as you turned so your back was pressed to his front, and you took a bite of toast. Your stomach gurgled and lurched, but you didn't feel like you were going to be sick, so you took another bite. "Do you want to join me at lunchtime today when I call my doctor?"

His hands kept finding their way to your belly, this time slipping up inside the shirt. "I'm not flying today, so yes. Absolutely. You calling from your office?" 

"Yeah. I'll probably stop in the cafeteria and get something to eat and take it back up with me."

"I'll meet you there with a burrito bowl in my hand," he promised, gently stroking your tattoo with his fingertips. 

Bradley drove both of you to work, and you found that you were having a pretty good day. Your toast stayed down. Bickel complimented your work. Cat was making headway on your presentation for Annapolis. But then you froze in place in the lab. In all of the excitement of the pregnancy test, you completely forgot you were going to have to go to Annapolis next month. 

You groaned softly, and then you wanted to scream, because tears started to fill your eyes. The lack of control over your emotions was already a lot to handle, and you were only two days into this thing. You took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down, but the idea of leaving Bradley right now had you panicking. And then you thought about what another deployment would mean for the two of you.

"Are you okay?" Cat asked softly, and you tried to turn your face further away from her as you nodded.

"Yeah. Just fine," you managed. "Can you change the font on the slides to something a little bolder? Make it easier to read from the back of the presentation room?"

"Sure," she replied. "You know what else I can do?"

"What?"

"Sit here quietly and listen if you need to talk about something."

You wiped at your tears before turning toward her. "Thanks, but I'm fine." 

She raised one eyebrow before returning to typing. "Jake did say you were stubborn..."

You laughed in spite of yourself. "I don't even know why I'm friends with him," you replied, but you did know. He took care of you when Bradley was away, when you couldn't take care of yourself. In an effort to change the subject from you crying over your raging hormones and early pregnancy, you asked, "How are things going with Lieutenant Seresin anyway?"

"Excellent," she whispered. "Jeremiah got accepted into the daycare on base," she added. You knew she didn't talk about her son with too many people at work, but you weren't sure what this had to do with Jake.

"Hey, that's great. Now you don't have to drive across town if he gets sick. Especially since I don't even have a car for you to borrow at the moment," you muttered. But you could tell she wanted to say something else. You knew that giving her a few seconds of quiet would make her feel like she could talk about it, and soon she was telling you more.

"Jake prepaid for six months at the new daycare."

Okay. So things were getting quite serious. Then the idea that your own child might one day be enrolled in the same daycare as Jeremiah made you smile. "I told you Jake was a good one."

Cat rolled her eyes and went back to typing, but her smirk was soft, and you knew she wasn't disagreeing with you.

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

"I'm just saying, we should do an old school style keg party on the beach for Mickey's birthday." Nat was talking Bradley's ear off on the way to the cafeteria, but his head was in the clouds. All he could think about was the baby. Baby, baby, baby. He kept adding things to his Amazon cart, and he only found out you were pregnant two days ago.

"Kegger? Yeah, that sounds fun," he muttered, walking a little faster to get to you sooner. 

"Listen, if your wife starts doing a keg stand, I'm not going to stop her," she replied with a laugh. "She's hilarious when she's drunk."

Bradley stumbled. You weren't going to be able to drink alcohol now. Nights out at the Hard Deck drinking out of matching beer bottles were a thing of the past, at least until approximately the end of next March. He had no idea what to say, because he didn't know how long he was supposed to wait before he told his best friend that he was going to be a dad. "Yeah, she's a fucking delight," he said, making her laugh harder. 

He was going to need to have a conversation with you about all of this and figure out how to proceed. Right now he had more important things to do. Like collect his wife, call the doctor, and make sure you ate lunch. When he walked into the cafeteria, he saw you from behind, and he groaned softly. The way you filled out your khakis was always something he loved to see, but then he considered that your hips might get a little wider in a few months, and he stumbled again. 

"What's wrong with you today, Soul Sister?" Nat asked, but she noticed where he was looking, and she rolled her eyes. "Two years ago, I would have never bet a single cent on you ever settling down. And now look at you. Pathetic. In the best kind of way."

Bradley shook his head. You were turning to look at him now, and the way you bit your lip was giving him ideas. You waved to Nat as they approached, and Bradley picked up a burrito bowl for you. "Not today," you told him, wrapping your arms around his waist and looking up at him. "I'm not hungry for that."

"You want a sandwich instead?" he asked, kissing the top of your head as you pressed your body against his.

"I want my Daddy," you whispered softly, and he could see it in your eyes. 

"Jesus Christ," Nat complained. "Not right in front of my lunch. The two of you are repulsive. Don't forget to tell her about Mickey's party." 

Bradley watched his best friend storm off with her lunch tray as you asked, "What about Mickey's party?"

"I'll tell you later. You really don't want a burrito bowl?"

"No. I don't want hot sauce."

Bradley sputtered. "I'm sorry, what? You don't want hot sauce?"

You grinned as he grabbed two sandwiches instead. "The baby is saying no."

He let your words wash over him, and the fact that you were still holding onto him with that needy look in your eyes had him kissing you a little rough. "You want me? Right now?" 

When you nodded and whispered, "I need you," he practically hauled you and the food to the bank of elevators out in the hallway. "I'm really horny," you whined when he pushed the up arrow. "Like so fucking horny, Roo. Earlier I was crying about something, but I can't even remember what. And all I want right now is your cock in-"

Bradley smothered your lips with his as the elevator opened, revealing an admiral. It would be better to get a dirty look for kissing his wife than a reprimand for talking about how the two of you were about to get down in your office. Once the elevator was empty, he guided you inside where you just continued to kiss him. Then you led him down the hallway with a visible erection in his pants, and he hid behind you as you unlocked your door.

"You know, there once was a time when you told me I wasn't allowed to fuck you at work."

You closed and locked the door as he set down the sandwiches, and you looked at him with a predatory glint in your eye. "Shut up and pull your pants down, or I'll name the baby Honda Civic Bradshaw."

Bradley tried not to laugh as he worked at his belt, button and zipper. "Come on, Baby Girl. You can't even prove that's where I knocked you up. And if we're naming the baby after a vehicle, it's the Bronco for sure. Bronco Bradshaw, the coolest fucking kid in town."

And now you were laughing as you shimmied your pants down to your knees and treated Bradley to the view of you bent over with your arms folded on your desk. "Just fuck me, Daddy."

He palmed your ass in both hands and whispered, "My pleasure." Your head came to rest on your arms just as he lined himself up, and you sighed in relief when he started to thrust. You seemed instantly more relaxed, the tension melting away from your face. "You needed it that bad?" he murmured, reaching around to gently stroke your clit.

"Mmhmm," you hummed, tilting your head to look back at him. "So bad. I told you I was horny."

"Does this feel good?" he asked, keeping it to a slow and steady pace for now. You'd been like this when you stopped taking your birth control last year, and he vividly remembered coming home one day to find you riding the arm of the couch and begging for him. His fingers tightened on your hip as he tapped a pattern against your clit, making you buck back against him. 

"So good," you whined loudly, bucking back again. This was probably just because your hormones were all over the place right now, but he had no qualms about fucking you at work. Every time he did it, he thought about you sitting in the lab all afternoon with a tight, cum filled pussy. But then he remembered what else you and he were supposed to do today, so he pinched your clit until you moaned, and he fucked you harder. "Roo!"

"Yeah?" he asked, grinning as his hips slapped your ass with each stroke. Your pussy was so wet, his hand felt slick as he rubbed your clit in tight circles that had your legs shaking as you started a high pitched little whine. You sounded like a spoiled brat right now, his name all over your lips as you asked for more and more. 

You were about to come. He could tell. When he rammed himself deep and pressed on your clit, your pussy squeezed him tight, and you grabbed at the edge of your desk. "Bradley!" you gasped, wiggling your ass as you pulsed and moaned. He rolled his hips gently as he came, enjoying the sensation of added wetness and the knowledge that this was all just for fun since you were already pregnant. 

He had a smile on his face as he watched his cum drip onto your underwear before helping you pull it up. Your eyes were dreamy as Bradley tucked your shirt in for you. "All better?"

You nodded and wrapped your arms around him. "Yes, and I'm starving. I hope I can eat."

"Let's give it a try," he whispered, kissing your temple and guiding you to sit on his lap on the desk chair. "Just take it slow." After you took a few tentative nibbles of your sandwich, he asked, "Can we call your doctor before I have to go back out?"

"Oh," you gasped as you started to fumble with your phone. "I set a reminder, but I already forgot! I'm having a bit of a hard time focusing," you muttered. You pulled up the contact information and kissed his cheek, and Bradley listened to you tell the nurse your full name on speakerphone. He'd never tire of hearing his last name tacked on after yours, and instead of digging into his own sandwich, he wrapped you up in his arms. 

You snuggled against him as you told the nurse, "I'm pregnant! I took some tests this past weekend, and they were all positive. I think I'm between five and six weeks along." Bradley rubbed your belly with his big hand while you scheduled an appointment for an evening when he could go with you.

When you ended the call, he handed you his phone. "Enter your appointment into my calendar? I need to have a very important conversation." You took his phone as he pulled you closer until you were straddling his lap, and then he teased your belly with his knuckles through your shirt and leaned a little closer. "Hey, kiddo. I know you think it's fun in there, but can you give Mommy a little break? Maybe let her go the rest of the day without yacking?"

You giggled as you typed away on his phone. "Yes, please listen to Daddy."

When you met his gaze, he buried his face against your neck. "I'm obsessed with both meanings of that word now, Sweetheart."

With a kiss to the corner of his mustache, you said, "The appointment is all set. Hopefully we can see an ultrasound. And I don't even mind the barfing as long as the baby is healthy."

Bradley ran his hand along your hair. An ultrasound. A little photo of the baby. His baby. He squeezed you so tight, you squeaked. "I can't wait. I can't wait for all of this."

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

Bradley was serious about everything. He found crib bedding and paint swatches online, and you had to keep reminding him that it wasn't a good idea to get ahead of yourselves too early on. Every time you brought it up as gently as you could, you ended up with his lips on yours, effectively silencing you. 

"Okay," he murmured against your lips on Thursday morning while he rubbed your back. You were standing in his arms in the kitchen, practically in tears because you spent twenty minutes throwing up as soon as you got out of bed. You started carrying a toothbrush to work with you, because it seemed to be happening more and more now. You were so hungry, you just wanted to be able to eat even a small meal. But now he was talking about cribs again.

"We can't buy furniture yet, Roo. We just can't."

"I know, Sweetheart. I'm trying to reel it in."

"We don't even have the new Bronco yet," you reminded him, which would probably just get him thinking about car seats. 

"Soon," he whispered, reaching for the discarded piece of dry toast on the plate next to him. "Take another little bite." 

You nodded as your mouth watered, and tears sprang to your eyes as you nibbled on it. When you swallowed it down, you said, "If you're this patient with me, I might actually die watching you feed a baby."

Your husband buried his nose in your hair and kissed you there. "I'll take care of both of you."

And then, you felt that thrum of desire that was always just below the surface right now. You swore you could smell Bradley everywhere, all day long, even when you were working in your lab. His mustache skimmed the shell of your ear, and your pussy clenched. A soft moan escaped your lips, and his deep laughter gave you goosebumps. "Baby Girl. We do not have time for that right now. And I'm flying all day today."

You pouted up at him. "Not even a really quick fuck?"

"No," he replied as he patted your rear end. "You need to get in the Bronco so we can get on base before we're late. Then later we have to help Bob move into your old place with Maria. Then I'm going to make sure you eat something. Then, and only then, can we have sex before bed."

"You're so mean."

He cocked his head and gave you side eye. "You liked me when I got you pregnant in your shit mobile."

Your eyes lit up. "So you're admitting I'm right? About the backseat?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, grabbing the sandwich he made himself so he wouldn't have to leave the tarmac later. "Let's get going."

Bradley buckled you in, and you made it halfway to work before you started to feel nauseous. In an effort to distract yourself, you asked, "What was the excuse you gave about missing out on the Hard Deck last night?"

He winced and looked at you briefly. "I said Tramp got into something and threw up everywhere. I fucking hate lying."

"I know, but it's too early to tell them," you groaned. "And now we need to keep thinking of excuses? I hate this."

"Yeah... about that... Mickey's birthday party is a beach kegger. It was Nat's idea."

You let your forehead rest against the window. "Okay. I mean, maybe I can offer to be the designated driver that night? Or maybe you and I can just keep switching cups while you drink all the beer?"

"We'll figure it out," he murmured. "I'm not worried about that so much as keeping you healthy right now. I'll lie to them about this if I have to."

You nodded as a wave of saliva filled your mouth and made you gag. "Pull over!"

"What?" Bradley asked, already flipping on the hazard lights and stopping in front of a random driveway.

"Oh god," you groaned as you unbuckled, opened the door, and stumbled as you threw up into a storm grate. You heard his door slam as he ran around the back of the Bronco to help you stand there as you continued to vomit next to someone's mailbox and lilac bush. 

Then you heard a man's voice, and when you looked up, there was the homeowner, watering his flowers. "Is everything okay?" he asked cautiously as you heaved.

"Just great," Bradley replied in an upbeat tone that made you want to kick him. "My wife's pregnant."

"Oh... well, congratulations," he replied as you finally stood up straight and gave him a little wave. 

Bradley helped you buckle in again and forfeited the water thermos from his lunch as you groaned, "That was embarrassing. Did you really have to tell him that?"

He kissed your forehead. "It was nice to be able to tell someone. It's not like he even knows us."

"That's true," you whispered, taking a sip of cold water. "This is miserable."

Bradley leaned down and kissed your belly before he said, "What did I tell you about being chill? Mommy needs a break."

You ran your fingers through his soft curls. "Let's just go to work so you don't get reprimanded, Lieutenant Commander."

"Whatever you say, Lieutenant Commander."

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

It was kind of surreal for Bradley, being back at your apartment again. "I haven't been here since I moved your old bed frame out," he mused as you and he walked inside holding hands. The back of the Bronco was filled with stuff from Bob's old place, but he wanted to know where to put things before he started moving boxes in. 

"The bed frame that you broke?" you asked, and then both of your eyebrows shot up. "Just like my car? I'm sensing a theme here when it comes to you and me fucking."

Bradley blushed. He wasn't even going to mention the patio chair or handful of articles of your clothing he'd also wrecked in the process. "Keep it down, Sweetheart. Bob doesn't need to know about that."

"He's not that innocent," you whispered, and Bradley watched his friend blush as Maria patted him on the shoulder. "Or maybe he is."

"Hey, Bob, where do you want all the boxes?" Bradley asked as you walked over to Maria and then disappeared down the hallway. His mind wandered to that first night he spent here with you. The first time you slept together. The first time you made him Marry Me Rooster. The first time he thought he could fall in love with someone who could love him back. He already knew he had deep feelings that night, and now someday you'd be cooking that dinner for three of you. 

"Did you hear me?" Bob asked cautiously as Bradley stood staring into the kitchen. "You can take everything into my room, and I'll sort it later."

"Sure," Bradley replied, nodding at him as he snapped out of his daydream. He ran back down the familiar stairs, grabbed some boxes, and took them back up. He smiled to himself as he recalled carrying you up the same stairs when you'd been drunk enough to scare away any other woman within a five mile radius who even dared to look at him. 

When he strolled back inside, he went to your old bedroom where you were standing with Maria and laughing about something in the walk-in closet. He set the boxes down, went directly to you and kissed you. "Hi," you sputtered, clearly caught off guard but smiling nonetheless. "Everything okay?"

"Yep." He cupped your cheek and kissed you one more time. "Very good. Perfect."

"I'll help you carry up some more boxes," you told him, your voice sounding a little breathy. He gave you an unamused look as the three of you exited the closet, but he waited until you and he were walking out of the apartment together. 

"You're not carrying jack shit, Sweetheart," he informed you. "I looked online, and you shouldn't lift more than twenty pounds."

You waved your hand in the air and said, "That's not until the second and third trimesters." He watched you walk down the stairs, and then he had to rush to catch up with you in the parking lot. 

"Absolutely not," he practically growled when you reached for a cardboard box. He had you pinned between his body and the open tailgate. "It's not happening." You slowly set the box down and turned to face him, and he squeezed your hip. "What's the point of having a husband who works out all the time if he's not going to carry everything for his pregnant wife?"

You moaned. You fucking moaned his name. "Bradley." Then you were sitting on the tailgate with your legs spread wide and his tongue in your mouth. Your hands were tucked up inside his tee shirt, gripping at his abs and the fly of his jeans. "You turn me on," you whined, wrapping your legs around his waist and rubbing yourself against him. 

"God damn it," he cursed, big fingers gripping the back of your neck as you kissed along his chin and licked his Adam's apple. It was so tempting, taking you in the parking lot like a horny teenager. But it wasn't even dark out yet, and Maria would know exactly what was going on. He wrenched his body back a few inches and shook his head while you pouted at him. "I'll give it to you any way you want it when we get home, but you need to wait."

You let your legs fall away from his body before sliding down from the tailgate. He kissed your little frown, reached inside one of the boxes, and removed three plastic hangers. "You may carry these." You looked up at him and sighed. He stacked up three boxes and carried them up the stairs behind you.

"I still think you're being a little ridiculous," you told him as he watched your ass sway. 

"About what, Sweetheart? Not fucking you in the middle of a parking lot where someone was walking a chihuaha? Or about the hangers?" 

You snorted as you walked into the apartment once again. "Both."

"You need to behave."

Once the Bronco was unloaded, you and Bradley hung out for a few minutes. Maria offered up some beer and said she could order a pizza, but the firm but barely perceptible shake of your head had Bradley saying, "We need to get home and let Tramp out, but thank you."

"Is he feeling better?" Bob asked. "I know you said he got sick yesterday, and that's why you had to skip the Hard Deck."

"No," you replied quickly. "That's why we have to get back to let him out. He's been making such a mess. I think he ate something in the yard that he really shouldn't have."

"That's a bummer," Maria said, and Bradley couldn't help but notice the way Bob was looking at her with his cheeks tinged pink. "We skipping brunch this Sunday since Cam's flying to Pittsburgh for his sister's wedding? Or do you want to make it a girls day?"

You rolled your eyes. "He will bitch incessantly if we go without him. It's not even worth it."

"You're right," she replied, shrugging and letting her arms drop to her sides. Bradley watched you hug your friend and then kiss Bob on the cheek which made him blush even more. 

"Enjoy your new room, Bob. And enjoy the best roommate in the world while you're at it," you told him. 

"Wow," Bradley said, hands on his hips. "That stings a little bit."

"I'm sure she's making a valid point," Maria told him with a smirk.

"Yeah, but I'm standing right here," he said with a laugh as he shook Bob's hand. "See you at work tomorrow."

"Thank you!" Bob called after Bradley as he followed you back out and down the stairs. 

You were laughing as he scooped you up and placed you on the front seat. "You won't even let me carry myself!"

"Do not test me," he warned as he pulled the seatbelt across your body. "Especially since you said I'm not the best roommate you've ever had."

"You're not a roommate, Roo! You were a sexy boyfriend and then a sexy fiancé and now you're a sexy husband." You kissed him and whispered, "And soon you'll be a sexy Daddy. And I just so happen to live with you."

He placed his hand on your belly and murmured, "I can't wait to be a Daddy. Can't wait for your belly to get big. I'm so excited to meet the little bun when we go to the ultrasound."

You were moaning his name again, so he closed the door and made quick work of driving home. The route was so familiar from him doing it so many times when you and he were just starting out dating, and your hand rested heavy on his thigh. When he reached down, he could feel your engagement ring and wedding band under his palm. He would take care of you. He was already getting used to how much and when you needed to eat to avoid the horrible nausea. He was already thinking about hiring a contractor to work on the rooms upstairs. It didn't matter what it was, he'd make sure it was perfect for you. 

And that included fucking you into the mattress if you wanted him to. But when he pulled into the driveway, you were sound asleep next to him. He laughed. "Seriously?" He knew you needed to sleep, so he carefully carried you inside after he let Tramp out in the backyard. 

"What happened?" you asked, still half asleep as he set you down in bed. 

"We're home," he whispered, removing your glasses, shoes, socks and jeans. "Do you think you should eat some crackers?" You just shook your head and rolled toward his usual spot like you were searching for him there. He chuckled as you snuggled against the pillow. "I'll be in shortly."

He took Tramp for a walk and made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He ate the sandwich while he spread some peanut butter on a few unsalted crackers just in case you woke up hungry in the middle of the night. Then he took a shower and got you to sit up and take a sip of water before he climbed in bed. 

And that's when he checked his phone for the first time in hours. He tapped the icon for the new voicemail from 6:02 pm and listened to a voice tell him something so delightful, he almost woke you up to share it with you. 

"Hi, Bradley, this is Terry from the Ford dealership. I'm just calling to let you know your new Bronco is here."

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

He's ready to go. As soon as he's allowed to talk about the pregnancy, he's going to be hanging a banner up in front of the house about it. The new Bronco arrives soon. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 29

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[marysdonuts]

Tom and Jerry

school clown!Hoshi x top student!reader

Synopsis: After transferring schools the attention seeker Soonyoung keeps getting on your nerves. Fortunately it is way too easy to make fun of his somewhat lacking intellect. One day you take your snarky comments too far and Hoshi is all fun and games, until he wasn't

Warnings: smut, enemies to lovers, high IQ (f.) x low IQ (m.), slight angst, school setting, classmates, public sex, revenge sex, dirty talk, crack, spanking, fingering, penetration, inferiority complex, questionable fashion choices

WC: 1.4K

Status: part 1 (ongoing), part 2

a/n: join my taglist to get notified about new chapters

Changing schools was easier than you thought it would be. You were halfway through your senior year of high school at the crisp age of 17. The family had to move to different city for work. Making new friends was effortless - you were intelligent, good looking and fun to be around. Of course, big part of your popularity was thanks to the charm of the next new thing which always attracted many admirers. You were getting straight A's, enjoyed busy social life, everything seemed perfect.

Well, almost perfect.

If it wasn't for Hoshi Kwon. The school's appointed clown, now pushing 19 years old, he failed his senior year twice. Pathetic, how could somebody be so stupid? You hated him the moment he showed up on the first day of school - in purple suit, tiger print on the collar with matching hat. Cane in hand. Kicking the door open while singing Sherlock from Shinee he danced can-can. His legs flying up to the rhythm of - I'm so curious yeah! Everybody loved the performance. Everybody except you. The fuck? Where did he even get that ugly ass outfit and apparently his real name was not Hoshi but Soonyoung. Who the hell calls themselves Hoshi? Does he think he is a celebrity? Stupid ass name.

After the teacher assigned him as your desk-mate he made it his mission to annoy you. Teacher's reasoning being - he might calm down sitting next to the top student. Such a nonsense. Isn't it their job to know how to control the kids? You weren't getting paid enough for this. In fact, weren't getting paid at all!!

//

On Friday he arrived to class more excited than usual.

"Look at my fit!" kicking his foot proudly on the wooden desk in front of you. Before you had time to push him off he continued

"Do you like my new shoes?" expecting compliments

"I haven't seen uglier shoes in my entire life." you responded with no emotions what so ever

"What do you mean ugly" his already small eyes squinting into straight lines, eyebrows frowning comically

You couldn't help but laugh. He looked like cartoon character

"Now you laughing at me too?!" Stomping the foot that was still resting on your desk " They are Balenciaga!" still stomping

"They look like boats," lazily resting your chin on the top of you hand "if refugees used these," pointing at the monstrosity "instead of those tiny motor boats, their survival rate would be 100%"

You could hear an audible *gasp* leaving his mouth and muffled laughs from the classmates sitting behind you.

"You are the worst!" he cried out "Do you even know how expensive they were.." tear forming at the corner of his cartoony eyes

"Probably as expensive as the donations your parents must be sending to the school each year to keep you studying here" your voice full of disdain

"wow a kick under the belt now, huh?" you could see the wheels in his little hamster brain spinning at full speed

"You will regret this" was all he could come up with in the moment

"I don't think so" smirk on your face beamed with satisfaction but the sudden dark shadow crossing Soonyoung's usually friendly face put a knot in your stomach

//

Much later that day, after your extra-curricular classes finished, you are standing in the dimly lit locker room reorganising the mess compiled after busy week. School was already empty and you loved the silence. The long halls full of lockers did look a bit spooky now but it wasn't your first time being there alone.

Squeeky steps approaching from behind you. Sounded like one of those Crocs.

"Anybody there?" you were sure it was just your imagination, simply asking the ghosts a rhetorical question

"What if there is.." vibrations of low growl echoed thru your ear sending shivers down the spine

"The hell..?" catching a glimpse of Hoshi in your peripheral vision. Why is he here this late? You knew damn well he ain't taking any extra classes.

"I was waiting for you..." his voice even closer now, hot breath touching the exposed skin of your neck. He was so close to you. You could hear his heart beating. Du dum. Du dum. Du dum. Stable. Confident. In control. Yours on the other hand reaching high frequency of dudududududum.

"What do you think you are doing, Kwon?" forced annoyance in your tone trying to mask something that was hiding a bit deeper. Panic perhaps?

"You tell me," he laughed but it sounded more like a threat "aren't you the one who knows it all?" Pressing the weight of his athletic body on yours, something hard forcing itself against your bottom made you gasp

"h-hey what's your problem.." you tried to sound intimidating, voice betraying you suddenly, only producing shattered whine

"You" not waisting one more second Soonyoung licked the curve of your neck completely sandwiching you between his throbbing heat and your cold locker. Kissing your sensitive skin as if he was waiting for it for so long. Wet kisses quickly becoming possessive bites leaving marks as his signature.

"oh fu-" was all that managed to escape your quivering lips as his hand spanked your ass with such force, it took your breathe away. You didn't want to admit it, but this situation? It was making you so incredibly wet.

Yes, you did hate him. Yes, he was annoying and loud. Always wanting to be the centre of attention. Apart from that you couldn't deny how good looking he actually was. Only person in school who could pull off blond hair and those horrendous outfits.Oh and how the lean muscles played on his body during P.E. class..? Except for his personality, he was 10/10

"You don't have any smart comeback now, do you?" Slapping you once more. Making you loose your breath - again.

"You look much nicer like this" the hand on your bottom started to move lower. Pushing your legs apart with his knee, making a way for his long fingers. Lightly tracing the center of your soaked panties

"stupid uniform-" you cursed. Why the hell did boys wear trousers but they made girls wear skirts? The last line of defence has been crossed.

"Oh?" rubbing the wet fabric "you are dripping all over your pretty panties" the strokes becoming spirals, combining your folds and the textile into unified mess

"I-I'm not..!" knees weakening into his skilful movements

"Mmm, I thought top students are not allowed to lie" forcing two fingers inside of you without warning. Deliciously thrusting into your pool of need.

"shut up-" already moaning. What the fuck am I doing? Now pushing your ass to meet his motion.

"If you are going to fuck me, at least do it right" another push against him "or are you too stupid even for that?" you mocked him, taking at least a bit of your power back

All you could hear was Hoshi's sinful laugh and clinking of metal as his jeans came undone collapsing on the tiled floor. His throbbing member now on your clit soaking in the wetness you produced. Gliding teasingly over it

"What if I don't want to?" rubbing in painfully slow rhythm, making you see stars

Hoshi was very much enjoying this moment. Moment of having upper hand on somebody he couldn't challenge intellectually, on somebody who always knew what to say, somebody who was making him feel and look small. Crushing his ego on everyday basis. Fortunately you were just his type.

"P-please..?" heard yourself saying. Almost as surprised as he was. But fuck it, his dick felt so good on you pussy and it was long time since you had any intimacy. It made you uncharacteristically needy. What's wrong with little steamy sex in the locker room? Nothing. Yeah.

"Please Soonyoung, I want to feel you inside of me. I can't take it anymore. You win."

Grin from ear to ear Hoshi finally entered you with such an enthusiasm like a kid getting the toy he really wanted.

Holding you by the wrists you were hanging off in empty air. Slapping the balls against your needy pussy he was pounding you mercilessly. Waves of pleasure running thru every inch of your body. You didn't notice it before but now you could feel it clearly. His dick had a curve to it and it felt fucking good. On every thrust the tip hitting you exactly where you wanted. You were full of him.

Why is it always these good for nothing guys who fuck the best? Or maybe you were just too harsh on him? You pondered as the following thrust almost took you over the edge, making your head fall forward.

And down there between your trembling legs pair of hideous Balenciaga sneakers