#losing it at the fact you kept the cigarette

[canisalbus]

a hoe never gets lyme disease

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[total-dxmure]

✦ INVISIBLE STRING THEORY →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER ONE

pairings: modern!marine ellie x reader

summary: the marines didn’t ruin ellie. ellie ruined ellie. after being medically discharged she feels lost. being sent to live with joel is more of a last ditch effort to save her and less of a fun reunion for the father-daughter duo. jackson is worlds different than chicago, but the fresh air and sprawling countrysides are a welcome reprieve. ellie finds herself finding comfort in more than just the change in scenery though. after losing your girlfriend due to an accident you feel as though you’ll never find love again- but that was before meeting ellie williams. the two of you figure out that you have more in common than just the fact that she and your girlfriend were both marines though. tethered by some invisible string, the two of you meeting has to be fate. who would have known that you were the golden ticket to ellie’s recovery?

warnings: eventual smut! lots of tension building and mutual pining. ellie falls first and hard. small town girl meets a frightening, strong ex marine. TW: talk of panic attacks, ptsd episodes and death. come for the ellie smut and stay for the plot and fluff.

⬶ previous chapter | next chapter ⤅

“The fact that she’s military is the only thing saving her ass right now.”

Ellie kept her head bowed down low, her hands clasped in between her legs as she hunched over in the seat, making herself as small as possible. Her knuckles were bruised and scrapped to hell, the blood already dried and crusted. Most of the blood wasn’t hers, and if she thought about that fact for too long she’d probably have an episode. Either that or she’d throw up all over the sheriff’s office.

“Boss, I really appreciate you calling me instead of booking her. You have to understand that she’s in therapy and is on a shit ton of medications. Is the guy gonna press charges. . . ?” Hearing her best friend kiss up to his boss on her behalf had the vein in her forehead twitching.

“Technically the boy was shoplifting, so I doubt he’s gonna go forward with any sort’a legal action. I know she was trying to help, but she used excessive force. Beat the poor kid black and blue. . . I mean-” The officer lowered his voice, and Ellie could hear Jesse’s chair creak as he leaned forward. “His damn tooth was knocked out.” The sheriff whispered.

She closed her eyes tight, running a shaky hand over her face. She should own up to all of this and apologize. This was her fault, so why. . . why was she just sitting there? It was like she was glued to the chair, unable to move her head up. She couldn’t look Jesse in the eye. She was ashamed of herself.

Because she smelled like greasy, unwashed hair and cigarettes, was wearing the same pair of jeans she’d worn yesterday when he invited her over to his and Dina’s for dinner, and now he was having to pick her up at the police station for starting a fight.

A pack of beer. That’s what she’d pummeled the boy over.

He couldn’t have even been her age. He looked freshly legal, and something in her fucked up mind told her that it was okay to hurt him like that. The second that the nice elderly woman behind the counter had started screaming about a man stealing from her, some sort of switch had been flipped in her brain. Loud noises always made her feel anxious, but screaming like that? She couldn’t have stopped the meltdown even if she’d wanted to. So she dropped what she was holding and ran after him. What happened afterwards was. . . well, it was a blur. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and rubbed her temples, trying hard to remember.

Her therapist called them “PTSD episodes”. Random things triggered a breakdown: loud noises, gunshots, screams, flashes of light. . . they were unavoidable. She’d lose total track of time when it happened. One second the door to Ellie’s walk-in closet was closing behind her, plummeting her in darkness, and the next she’d be laying on her back in the middle of her room, balling her eyes out. Living like this was hell, but no matter how many mind-numbing pills she was prescribed, she still found it nearly impossible to function.

She didn’t want to scare her loved ones. When Joel called she just. . . lied. It made her feel dirty. It was wrong and she knew that, but it was better than the alternative. Being a liar was better than being a broken failure.

“Yeah, I’m doing great. My therapist is on to something, I think.”

“Come on, rambo. Let’s get you to bed.” Jesse placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, knowing better than to pat her on the back like he used to.

Ellie knew it hurt him to see her flinch under his touch. She swallowed back bile and stood up, practically having to drag herself out of the officers office. She couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t thank him or- or anything.

But then he did that thing. . . he thanked Ellie.

Ellie didn’t give a shit about the military discounts or the cheaper car insurance- she got a nice cushy check from the military every month just for breathing. She didn’t want pity or thanks simply because she didn’t deserve it.

“Thank you for your service, Williams.” The sheriff’s voice reminded her of Joel’s. For some reason that made it hurt even worse.

Still, her muscles tightened, and she worked hard to straighten her posture.

“It was my privilege.” It was a well rehearsed response. It didn’t even sound like her voice when she had said it though, and it scared her.

As she followed Jesse out to his truck, she tried to ascertain whether she was just beginning to disassociate or whether or not this was all just another strange side effect from her meds.

She blinked and suddenly she was already situated in the car, Jesse on the main road to get the both of them back home. He had the radio turned down to just a hum, his sleepy eyes glued to the road in front of him. The clock on his dashboard told her that it wasn’t just “late” anymore, but “morning” now. Ellie sat up suddenly, her heart pounding as she tried to map out exactly how many minutes she had just lost.

“Fuck.” She breathed, pressing her palms against her eyes.

She needed to call her therapist sometime today. She needed. . . She needed a lower dose of medication. There’s no way any of this was normal.

“Have you eaten?” Jesse asked, turning his head to finally look at her.

Ellie wished that he felt inconvenienced by her. Anger would be better than pity, but the look in his eyes was anything but annoyance. Jesse looked like he was close to tears. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, and Ellie felt called to reach her hand out and place it on his shoulder. She wasn’t a very touchy person these days (and it’s not like she was to begin with), but he needed it.

“Not in a couple of hours.” Ellie answered him, letting her fingers dig into the soft fabric of his shirt.

He nodded and cleared his throat, sitting up a little straighter. When Ellie dropped her hand and turned to look out the passenger side window, she could have sworn he lifted his arm to hurriedly wipe at his eyes. She couldn’t be sure though. . . seeing as she was now legally blind in her left eye. The wonky eye and the thin scar that started in the middle of her forehead and ended on her brow bone were the only physical reminders that she had of the explosion.

It seemed so miniscule compared to all of the shit that was going on in her head. She’d much rather have a destroyed body than a brain that didn’t work right anymore.

“How about you sleep in the guest bedroom? Dina’s probably worried sick about the both of us. Let’s. . . let’s spend the day together. Yeah?” It sounded like he was pleading with her.

There was a brief moment of heavy silence. No matter how much of a burden she saw herself as, the thought of going home right now frightened her. Ellie was terrified that she was going to end up all alone in this world, but she couldn’t stop pushing everyone away. It’s almost as if. . . she knew that she was bound to self-destruct at some point. She didn’t want anyone to see her like that.

“She’s going to kill me.” Ellie groaned out, dramatically banging her head against the headrest.

Jesse’s lips twitched up into a smile, but he was quick to try and mask it. “Nah. Dina? Mad at you for getting arrested at one thirty in the morning? No way.” His tone was sarcastic, and Ellie appreciated the fact that Jesse could still joke under circumstances like this. It made things feel almost normal. Almost.

Ellie winced, dragging a battered and bruised hand over her face. She had no idea why she’d been at the gas station picking up a bag of pretzels and a pack of ding-dongs that late at night. A documentary about the recently discovered Exo-planet was on the Discovery channel, and she’d actually worked up an appetite after it was over. She missed acting her age. Maybe that’s why she ended up getting into her Jeep. She was tired of feeling nostalgic and actually wanted to do something for herself. As minuscule as grabbing snacks from the gas station down the street was, it still felt out of the ordinary for her. Special.

Dina was sitting on the couch when the pair slunk into the house, walking on their tip toes in the hopes that the creaking wooden floors wouldn’t wake up JJ. Ellie froze in the entryway, green eyes wide as she took in the female’s crossed arms and death-glare. She was in trouble, which meant that Jesse was in trouble as well by association.

“Do you know what time it is?” Dina whisper-yelled, throwing her arm in the direction of the clock on the wall.

Ellie squinted her one good eye, noting that it was now four in the morning. She’d lost three hours. She should have been passed out on her prescribed sleeping pills by now, plagued by vivid nightmares. Instead she was intruding on her two best friends, and for what? ‘A pack of beer’, she reminded herself. A god damn pack of fuckin’ beer.

Ellie’s mouth went dry, her lips moving but no words escaping her. How many times had she apologized to Dina since she’d gotten home after the accident? Still, her best friend’s anger was better than Jesse’s pity. The sleeves of Ellie’s flannel tightened around her biceps as she crossed her arms over her chest, mirroring Dina’s posture as if to protect herself. She slipped a hand up, covering her neck anxiously.

“I’m getting better, D. I’ll schedule an emergency meeting with my therapist and-” Ellie sounded pathetic, even to her own ears.

What she was doing couldn’t be called living. Ellie was simply existing and not doing a very good job at it either. She was tired of being tired. She blinked her misty eyes, turning to face the kitchen. She refused to cry. Once she started she couldn’t be sure that she’d be able to stop.

Jesse and Dina’s shoes were all neatly laid out by the front door and JJ’s baby bag was sitting on the dining room table. This was a family that she had just burdened. Her eyes snagged on JJ’s highchair, and then the guilt was building right back up in her chest.

Guilt and jealousy.

Ellie had once had hopes of starting her own family eventually. When did she lose her grasp on that? On her lifelong dreams and aspirations? She wanted to help people- save people- so when had she become the one that needed saving? The marines hadn’t ruined Ellie. Ellie had ruined Ellie.

“No, you’re not.” Dina said simply, her voice sounding thick with emotion. “Ellie, look at me.” Her voice was commanding despite her sadness.

Ellie’s eyes fell to the floor, but she turned her head to face Dina, green eyes flickering up to her face. Bottom lip quivering, brown eyes misty- Dina looked miserable.

“You’re not getting better.” She whispered to Ellie, shaking her head to drive the point home. It looked like the words physically hurt for her to say.

Every excuse that she could have given dissipated. Suddenly she felt naked, utterly exposed. Every nasty, jagged scar was on full display. How many times had she said that to the people that cared about her?

“I’m getting better.” “I actually feel a bit better today.” “You don’t have to worry about me. The meds are really working this time.” Ellie wasn’t sure when it happened but she had become a liar. A damn good one too. Dina was looking at her now though, really looking at her, and Ellie’s face crumpled.

“Fuck.” Ellie whispered to herself, moving her hands to cover her face.

Jesse stepped behind Ellie, wrapping his arms around her tightly, resting his cheek on the top of her head. A sob caught in Ellie’s chest and she strangled it before it could escape her. She couldn’t lose it. She couldn’t let her shoulders sag, couldn’t allow herself to feel everything in front of her best friends.

“I called Joel,” Dina finally said, leaning against the back of the couch, her knuckles going white with how hard she gripped the leather. “And he bought you a plane ticket. You’re flying out tomorrow.”

“No,” Ellie was already shaking her head before Dina had even finished her sentence. “How could you do this?” She felt the betrayal like a slap in the face. Her lips parted, eyes wide in silent desperation.

Please let this be a nightmare.

Her hand desperately flew to her arm, giving it a sharp pinch. The floor didn’t fall out from under her. She didn’t sit up sweating in her tangled sheets. This was actually happening. Actually real.

“You’re flailing, Ellie. We thought that eventually you’d level out,” Dina tried, taking a few steps towards Ellie and her husband. “But you’re only getting worse.”

“I’m getting better.” The well rehearsed line was the only thing she could think to utter. She prayed that eventually she could convince herself of that too. If she said the words enough times then maybe, eventually, they would become her reality. Perhaps she could somehow manifest her recovery.

“When was the last time you ate a solid meal? You barely touched your plate the other night. And I know you aren’t eating the food that Jesse drops off for you.” Dina was pointing out her flaws as if she didn’t see them all herself.

A full stomach meant nausea.

“When was the last time you showered?” The dark haired girl questioned.

Showering meant closing herself up into a tight space. It meant getting naked- seeing her scars. Remembering what happened to her and the rest of her unit.

“We know how this will end, Ellie. I don’t care if you hate me for the rest of my life for calling Joel. I refuse to lose you like this.” Dina’s voice quivered as she spoke, but her eyes hardened. She was resolute about her decision.

Jesse’s arms tightened around Ellie and suddenly they no longer felt like a comfort but a prison. She needed air. Needed to call Joel and apologize. Needed to tell him that she was fine. She was fine. She would be just fine.

“I can’t breathe.” Ellie managed to whisper out, knees buckling from underneath her. It felt like the world was finally swallowing her up whole.

She was a failure. She’d failed Jesse, Dina, JJ and Joel. Why couldn’t she just be normal again? Why couldn’t she just fucking breathe.

Jesse let go of Ellie as she began gasping for air, helping to sit her down on the cold hardwood floor. It felt like everything around her had slowed down to a crawl, but her mind- it had sped up to a breakneck pace. She couldn’t turn it off. Couldn’t turn off the thoughts and the images and the feelings.

She’d killed her unit. It was her fault that they all died. They had all been taken home in body bags, and what had Ellie gotten? A fucking government issued check every month that she blew on booze and a Purple Heart that collected dust.

“D, get the medication that’s in the cabinet and a glass of water.” Jesse called out to his wife. It sounded like they were underwater. She was drowning.

“She’s ripping her fucking hair out, Jesse.” Dina called out in panic, rifling through the medicine cabinet with shaky hands. Her best friend gripped her wrists, forcing them back down to her sides. Strands of Auburn hair were tangled up between her clammy fingers.

JJ must have woken up because of the comotion. She could hear him crying from the other room. Screaming for his mother.

Blood. So much blood. It’s coming out of her mouth, what do I do? What do I do about internal bleeding again? Wasn’t I trained for this? Breathe. She’s not breathing. Are there other landmines? Can I drag her to safety? Where is everyone else? H-How. . . How can I help?

“Swallow, Ellie.” Dina was crouched in front of her, forcing her lips open to slide a pill onto her tongue.

“It was my fault. I-I fucking,” She choked out, gagging at the taste of the pill that was beginning to dissolve on her tongue. “I led them out there. Oh, fuck.”

Dina was beginning to panic, pushing the plastic cup up to Ellie’s mouth in the hopes that she would drink. She did, choking back the water in deep gulps. The water helped to fill the aching pit that was beginning to grow in her stomach. Water poured down the sides of Ellie’s lips, but she kept drinking. Deep, thoughtful gulps of ice cold water.

“Should I call an ambulance?” Dina finally asked, her eyes flickering between Ellie and her husband.

“No. No hospital. Just go sit with JJ, alright? I’ve got her.” Jesse told her, letting go of Ellie’s hands so that he could wrap an arm around her waist, hugging her against his chest so that she couldn’t stand up.

Ellie blinked and Dina was gone, the sound of her bare feet jogging down the hall was the only reminder of her presence.

“Joel isn’t going to judge you, Ellie. We all just want to help. So let us, alright?” She knew he was telling the truth, but the thought of Joel seeing her as lesser-than killed her. She would crumble completely if Joel looked at her with the same sorrowful eyes that Jesse did.

Joel was newly retired though, and the last thing he needed was to put up with his PTSD-ridden adopted daughter. She was tired of feeling like a burden, but where had standing on her own two feet gotten her? Arrested on multiple occasions? So she relented. She surrendered to the idea of sleeping in her old bedroom and taking up space in Joel’s too-big ranch home.

“Okay.” Ellie croaked, feeling the medication kicking in. Sleep. All Ellie wanted to do was sleep.

“Okay?” Jesse repeated back to her, needing to know that she was serious. The last thing he probably wanted to do was wrestle Ellie onto the plane. He wasn’t entirely sure he could overpower her when it came down to it.

“Okay.”

Grief was an uphill battle. One minute you’re laughing with your friends and then the next you’re laid up in bed, tossing and turning with the realization that what could have been was now an impossibility. You missed Abby. You missed the life that you could have had with her. All of the memories and milestones you missed out on were soul crushing the second that the sun went down.

You were left in your empty house, laid up in the bed that the two of you once shared. Her scent had long since washed out of her pillow. All that was left were pictures and a gravesite that you still couldn’t bring yourself to visit. Life doesn’t stop when you lose somebody though. People eventually become less forgiving as the months pass by.

So you squeezed your eyes closed and hoped that sleep would come sooner rather than later. You had an early start tomorrow for work, and the last thing you wanted was to show up with puffy eyes.

Life was getting better though. The pain wasn't as debilitating as it had been months ago, and for that you were thankful.

One step at a time, one day at a time.

You were still breathing, which was exactly what Abby would have wanted for you. The overwhelming grief hadn't killed you, no matter how many times you'd secretly prayed that it would. You were still here and that was good enough.

For now, at least.

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[dolicekiss]

Sweet Little Lamb

first attempt at this, also requests are open ^_^

PAIRING: Dad's best friend!Duncan x Innocent young!Female reader

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+ only, minors dni), sort of taboo, age gap (reader is nineteen), rough sex, mention of uncle and usage of the word cunt, hair pulling, choking, subtle manipulation (manipulative Duncan), religious themes, blasphemy mentioned, virgin reader, dirty talk (talkative Duncan), praise and degradation, slight blood, fingering, unprotected sex, sir kink.

SYNOPSIS: Duncan and your father were high school best friends, always getting into trouble and enjoying their youth to the fullest but they soon parted ways — adhering to their own priorities in their adult lives. But when your father runs into Duncan at the store, he invites him home for dinner. Duncan didn't know his high school best friend was married and had such a beautiful daughter, you. As he laid his eyes on you, he began to lose his grip on his moral compass.

Duncan was a mess.

No amount of cigarettes could calm the turmoil that had caused havoc in his mind and his body, all because of the daughter of his high school bestfriend; you.

The more he fought the disgusting thoughts, the more he felt repulsion crawl over him like a spider with its prickly legs, pinching into his skin. He felt sick and like a creep — preying on his best friend's daughter like that, thinking about you in such explicit ways. He'd excused himself from the family, using his unnecessary smoking habit as an excuse to get away from your sickeningly sweet presence.

He needed to calm his mind. He was all over the place, his mind a whirlpool of unwanted explicit thoughts regarding the girl. It wasn't the white dress that you adorned nor that you were a shadow of an angel but how innocent you truly were. Knowing his bestfriend, he was sure he must've kept you concealed from the outer world. Protecting you and forbidding you of the pleasures the outside world had to offer, keeping you safe against the darkness that lurked in the shadows.

But he didn't know he had brought darkness along with him, in the form of his bestfriend to his humble abode.

He let out a sigh of frustration, as he tossed his finished cigarette to the side. Before he flicked open his metal case to retrieve another one, he heard a soft voice interrupt his smoking session. “Uncle Duncan?‘

Oh how much he reveled in the feeling of you addressing to him as an uncle. You weren't related, no. But just the fact that he was older than you and you saw him as an uncle, it was enough to tighten his pants as he wondered just what sick and twisted part of him was clawing out to the surface.

“Yes, dear?” He always responded to you with such sweetness, his voice gruff but his tone soft and sweet. Like he didn't want to scare you away, like he didn't want his voice and tone to be an innuendo to his sick and twisted desires.

You smiled at him.

A fucking replica of the moon you were.

“Time for dinner, it's all set.” You said, hands conjoined behind your back as you stood with a rather shy posture — your demeanor dripping with the innocence that was an indirect invitation to the wolves of the winter.

To come and rip you apart. Limb by limb and piece by piece and oh, a wolf had indeed sniffed its way to your sweet energy, Duncan had found you.

You gestured for him to come inside before disappearing back inside the living room and he groaned in frustration, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair before walking in pursuit of you. You were such a dream, you glowed and he carried darkness that wished to bask in your light. Upon entering, he found the dinner table all set with his bestfriend already situated in the middle. He took a seat and then your mother and you joined as well.

You sat across Duncan.

Your gaze lingering over him now and then and you admitted, he was truly a handsome man. The fact made you flinch internally, as you had been told that finding another man handsome and attractive was a sin that god would never forgive. Your father had often told you to never indulge in boys or men, to never reciprocate their attention or love, to never ever pay them mind.

And you obliged.

You had never felt wanted in your life ever.

There sat a handsome man across you and it did things to you, things foreign to your small mind.

Your gaze found itself focused on how he extended out, his large hand covering the entirety of the glass of water as he drank it. The view did something to you, a weird feeling churning in your stomach. You found it alluring, that he was capable of completely having his way with you.

You shook your head, praying to God in your heart, begging for his forgiveness at the sinful thoughts that had consumed your mind in the presence of a man that was the same age as your father. You lifted your gaze up from the chicken you stabbed with your fork and a silent gasp escaped.

He was staring at you, as he ate the food your mother prepared.

Your heart leaped up into your throat and then you felt something against your leg, through the net material of your long, white dress. It was hard and rough, making you realize it was a shoe.

Duncan's shoe.

You swallowed the nervousness that was building in your throat. This felt wrong, this felt so forbidden but he wasn't touching you, was he? He wasn't directly touching you, it was his boot riding up your leg and then settling between your thighs. It wasn't sinful if he wasn't directly touching you. Your breath got stuck in your throat.

Duncan noticed the flushed reaction you gave and he suppressed the urge to let out a subtle grin. The tip of his boot pressed up against your clothed cunt, putting pressure against the sensitive area. You almost whimpered at the touch — at how repulsive it truly was. Guilt consumed you because you didn't feel gross, no. You felt good, as you parted your thighs open.

All while your parents ate their dinner, enjoying the company of the man that had sick intentions towards their daughter. Your fingers tightened around the fork as he pushed harder, the force causing pain to blossom on your cunt and you ached for more.

The dinner came to an end soon and your father insisted for Duncan to stay over, as a snow storm approached in all its glory and the man eventually gave in. You were told to show Duncan his room and you obliged, leading him upstairs. The vacant room was right besides yours and the moment you both traveled upstairs, all alone in each other's presence in the dimly lit hallway, the tension threatened to explode.

He acted as if he wasn't the cause of your aching cunt, as if he hadn't lured out a desire too sinful out of you. He only silently followed you and you stopped once you reached inside the room. “Here, I hope it is comfortable Uncle—”

You bit back your tongue. Calling him uncle didn't feel so appropriate anymore after your latest encounter with his boot pressed between my thighs. Duncan caught onto that and he leaned down at you, his muscular hand reaching to caress your cheek. His touch was so — gentle and full of tenderness. You didn't back off, when you obviously should've and it left you confused.

Did you crave someone's touch? Yearned for it secretly in your heart where no man could reach?

“Why'd you stop?”

You shook your head, the back of your calves pushed up against the drawer. You felt helpless in his grasp, like a lamb in the clutches of a wolf. “Feels— weird, Mr. Vizla.”

“Mr. Vizla is it now?” His voice had fallen a few octaves lower and you nodded. God, you were so fucking scared but there was excitement, sitting right next to the fear, smiling at it. Taunting it. His thumb swiped over your cheek and you let out a shuddered breath at the touch. The bare minimum but it had you breathless.

You'd never felt a man this close.

You'd never been this close to another man.

“W-What should I call you?” You stuttered, a mess you were. Your fingers conjoined behind your back, pressed into the drawer.

Duncan smiled. “How about sir? Try saying that, pretty girl.”

His compliment sent you over the edge, your mind clouded by the mist of a daze as you looked up at him. His dark, searing gaze incinerated you and your face burned when you made eye contact with him. His aura felt brooding and you couldn't tolerate it any further, feeling its hands choke you. Ridding you of any air left.

“Sir?” You asked, innocently tilting your head to the side.

He nodded and then stepped closer, shrinking the space between you two. “Did it feel good?”

You immediately nodded your head, as shy as you were. The feeling of his boot against your clothed center only increased your desire and curiosity to feel more, your body burning in need that was foreign to you. He leaned down, breath mingling with yours as his large hand dropped down to the curve of your throat. Circling around it, firmly but loose enough to allow you to breathe.

“Come to my room when everyone's asleep, Little lamb.” With that, he released you and walked off towards the bathroom leaving you completely out of breath.

You ran out of his room, into your own and immediately slammed the door shut, locking it. Your body felt different, like it was being burned but without the pain. You pressed your palm against your forehead, checking for a fever but there was nothing yet you felt so flushed. You dropped your frame onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, hoping that God was not witnessing all this. That he was busy with his other creations and not noting down the sin you were about to commit by going into his room at night.

— ♡ —

Night crackled with the storm, its silence snatched from it and swallowed whole by the loud howls of the wind. Your parents had fallen asleep and you tossed and turned underneath the blankets, changed into your little night dress. A satin slip up your mother had bought for you, with a little bow attacthed to its front. Trailing your eyes across the clock, you swallowed.

1 AM.

You ran your tongue over your lips, stomach burning with anticipation and desire as you slowly lifted the blanket off you. You found yourself right in front of his room and then you knocked, lightly, your frail hand shivering from what you were about to do. Just what were you doing? Going into the room of a man twice your age, all alone at night, barely dressed in anything.

Before you could change your mind or think your actions through, the door had opened revealing the man. His bare chest exposed — the body hair littered everywhere in striking contrast to your own body and you stepped inside. He closed the door behind you and then you felt as though you had stepped outside in the cold, bare footed and naked waiting for it to consume you whole.

Duncan walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge, thighs expanded and parted as he gestured at you. “Come here.”

His tone reeked of dominance and you felt your knees give up on you. Nervously, you took a step and then another until you were right in between his thighs. His hands reached for your waist, holding the curve of it as he gazed at you.

“This is wrong.” You whispered.

He tilted his head, his hands slowly trailing upwards while he gazed at you. “Is it? Do you feel like you're committing a sin?”

You nodded and inhaled sharply, feeling guilt ridden because of how good his hands felt trailing up and down your sides. Duncan was wearing his glasses and you peeked behind him to find a book laying face down on the bed. He was reading. Was he keeping himself occupied for you?

“No, little lamb.” He reached for your hair with one hand, twisting the strands between his fingers. Caressing them with the pad of his thumb. “How is it a sin when God is all merciful? He understands you, he feels you, doesn't he? He's created you like this.”

His words were heaving down on your mind and you thought for a moment. He was right. You were not feeling this way on purpose, instead it was all coming naturally to you which meant that God had created you like this. In his image, and how could be his image wrong and sinful?

“But its a sin.”

“It is not if you don't tell anyone about it. If no one finds out about this, it'll only be an act buried in the past once its committed.” Duncan pulled you in closer with his one hand on your waist, his thumb caressing your stomach through the satin material. His hand on your hair traveled to your face as he brushed his thumb over your plump, saccharine lips.

“Open up, little lamb.”

And you obeyed, parting your lips in an invitation for him to press his thumb against the flat surface of your wet tongue. You stayed like that, awaiting his next order and command. “Suck now.”

You closed your lips around his thumb, sucking as you moved your head back and forth. Your eyes didn't shut, no. You stared at him all the while sucking on his finger and Duncan’s gaze felt heavy with lust, mimicking your own. He could see he had you, right where he wanted. Just a mindless little girl who couldn't even understand the needs of her own body.

How fucking cute. He thought.

You were so pliant, so sweet and so submissive. He enjoyed every bit of it and he wondered if he'd ever let go of you after defiling you for his own good and pleasure? Duncan pushed his thumb further into your mouth, all the way to the edge and you choked a little. Sputtering and making a mess of saliva on his hand. Tears sprung out and you closed your eyelids, allowing a few to stream down.

He retrieved his thumb from your mouth and looked at you. “Have you ever kissed anyone, hm?”

You could only shake your head. He smiled and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you onto his thigh. He loved how he was about to ruin your innocence, fucking mess you up and bask in the feeling of power over you. It was all too consuming and overwhelming, even for him.

You were perfect.

“Follow my lead, alright?”

You nodded, butterflies flapping their wings in stinging anticipation in your stomach. You felt his lips against yours and it felt, fucking, ecstatic. His lips were so soft, so plump and they felt like cushions against your own. One hand settled over your stomach, expanded palm caressing your flesh while the other slithered upto your hair, entangling in the softness of them.

He tugged and you whined into the kiss.

The vibration of it sending fire straight to his crotch, his own chest rumbling with desire as he kissed you. Gently prying your lips open, he entered your mouth and explored the untouched cavern of innocence with his vile tongue. Like a snake, he enveloped you and brought you deeper into the abyss.

“Sir—” You attempted to break the kiss but he didn't let you, delving deeper into it. His grip tightening on your hair causing you to cry out into the kiss, his tongue battling with yours. It felt so good, you could almost cry from how much pleasure only a mere kiss was giving you.

But Duncan knew there was more. And the more was as rough as he was.

His hands pulled back and then fell to the hem of your dress. “May I?”

You thought, for a single second before nodding your head. He immediately slipped it off you, discarding it to the side and then his gaze took you in. Your full, nude form. Your perky tits, the small bulge of your stomach, the pouch of fat resting there, how clean and unmarked your thighs were. Those little details drove him insane. He lost restraint — brawny hands grabbing at your tits and fondling them as you whimpered softly against him. It all felt too sinful, but too right to you.

Thumbs brushing over and over again against your hardnened peaks, standing erect demanding attention. He stalled for moment and took your small hand, bringing it to the raging boner protruding through the material of his jeans. You immediately gasped, shaking your head as you tried to pull back but he insisted. Grip tightening on your wrist.

“Feel it." He commanded.

You meekly nodded your head and then felt him, your palm pressed against how hard it was. The situation was so gross, so fucking repulsive but it felt amazing. How he toyed with your body, giving you pleasures you never even thought of. He pulled both of your thighs on each side of his lap, exposing your cunt.

Duncan almost growled at how it peeked out, pink and shaven.

He brought his fingers upto her mouth and tapped onto her lips. You were quick to catch the innuendo, parting your lips and sucking onto his digits. When he felt them wet enough, Duncan’s hand fell down and slithered between your thighs. His fingertips brushed against your clit and a loud squeal escaped you.

You quickly clamped your palm down your mouth, staring at him in confusion. It felt so amazing, a jolt of electricity sent through your veins when he brushed against your clit. He did it again but this time you were prepared and then slowly eased a finger into you. Your tightness around his mere finger let him know just how difficult you were gonna be, getting accustomed to his size.

“Sir, no. Hurts, please.” Your hand reached for his wrist, clawing and pushing at it but he didn't budge. He found your resistance adorable as he slid his finger whole and you cried out. Tears streaming down her face at the burning sensation but that was nothing in comparison to what the future held for you.

Duncan lightly tapped your cheek, a subtle slap. “You can take it, sweet lamb. It's one finger, you can't even take this?”

Voice laced with disappointment, he stared at you and you nodded softly, more tears streaming in rivulets. You back was arched and stiff, as he started moving his finger. To distract you from the burning sensation, he closed his lips around your peaked nipple, circling his tongue around it. The overwhelming pleasure sent you into a different world as your little body twitched.

He sucked and sucked, while slipping another finger and you pressed both hands against your mouth to supress your cries. You didn't wish to wake your parents, that was something you didn't want. It could put an end to this sweet pleasure that you desperately chased after.

“Gonna fuck your virgin cunt so good, I'm gonna dumb you down on my cock, little lamb.” He muttered against you wet peak, plunging his fingers in and out of you. You felt your stomach tighten, flipping in scary knots and the feeling was so strong that you could only cry. Hands falling from your mouth, they gripped tightly onto his salt and pepper hair, bunching them up in your fist. You buried your face in his neck and softly cried, the pleasure sending you into the oblivion.

All that at once — it was too much.

Your thighs convulsed, your body twitching and you could feel something coming, its intensity unbearable. “Sir, something's happening. I think I—” With a hot white intensit shooting through your core, you exploded. Your juices coating his fingers, his arm, his chest and more tears followed in pursuit of the trail left behind the old ones.

Your chest heaved up and down, body collapsing on top of his. Lips shuddering, releasing soft little pants as your arousal saturated everything.

His hand ran up and down your back, reassuring you, comforting you. As he slowly lifted you up, he laid you down on the bed and cupped your face. Brushing away the perspired strands of hair from your forehead and unveiling yourself to him. Duncan was going to explode at any minute and he needed to be inside you.

He discarded his own pants along with his briefs and exposed himself to you, his cock standing hard and curved against his stomach. It was too big and your eyes widening in horror gave away that much. Before he could proceed further, you had removed yourself from the bed, barely possessing any strength to stand still.

“It's too big.” You whispered, reaching for the door.

Duncan wasn't having it. You had your pleasure, now it was his turn and he felt entitled to his own orgasm. Before you could make an escape, he took a long stride in your direction and encircled his arms around you, throwing you right across the bed. Your body was still coming down from your orgasm, fear waking up in your eyes.

He fucking loved it. How panicked and scared you appeared, looking at him, realizing he had you trapped. “Be a good girl, little lamb. Let me have my taste of you.”

He crawled on top of you and your chest twisted in fear, eyes focused on his length. It was too much, you knew it but still you wondered, if his fingers could feel this good — just how good could his cock feel inside you?

Duncan parted open your thighs, delivering a little smack to your inner thigh causing you to flinch. “I'm fucking disappointed that you even thought for a single moment that you could escape me.”

His tone was full of annoyance, mixed with anger and heavy from lust. He aligned his tip at your hole, staring down at it like a madman, obsessed and infatuated. “I'm going to claim this pretty virgin cunt of yours and you'll take me like a good little girl, won't you, my dearest?”

You slowly dragged your head up and down, both fists resting at your chest in heavy anticipation. He slightly tapped his hand across your face, subtle but enough to let you know it was meant to be a damn slap. “I need words.”

“Yes sir."

“Good fucking—” he didn't finish his sentence, as he slid himself inside of you. He couldn't even get to feel you as a scream tore itself through your throat and the man quickly pressed his lips against you. Shutting you up, swallowing your screams and whimpers of pain that you so wholeheartedly were ready for the whole world to hear.

Your walls clamped down on him and Duncan felt as though you were gonna cut him in half from the sheer tightness of your pussy around him. He didn't move, breaking the kiss and slowly littering soft kisses all over your face, drinking up your tears. “You can do it, yeah? You're such a strong, beautiful girl.”

His words of affection warmed up your chest and you nodded, wrapping both your arms around his nape for support as you parted your thighs. An enticing invitation despite the throbbing sensation blossoming like a flower in your cunt. You braced yourself as Duncan moved and soon be bottomed out, a promise growl exploding from his chest.

How forbidden it was.

The girl that was barely half his age, calling him her uncle was now underneath him, naked and sweaty as he deflowered her little cunt. His thumb moved over your clit in tender little circles and your back arched off the bed, his cock shifting inside you. It pulsed and throbbed, becoming one with the throbbing of your own cunt.

“You're so pretty, so fucking beautiful. I want to claim your pussy every single day, ruin you to the point you only think about having my cock inside your little cunt.” He was a mess, forehead drenched in perspiration as he moved, his forearms resting on your sides. He pulled out, and you gasped at the loss but then he slammed himself back inside you. This time deeper, filling you up to the brim.

“Tell me, does the God you worship is capable of making you feel this good?” You shook her head, long gone in the wordly pleasures that consumed your mind. All you thought about was Duncan and how good his cock felt inside you. He began moving, snapping his hips and your walls clenched around him in need.

As he pushed — he encouraged a loud whimper out of you. High pitched and evident. Enough proof that he had found that specific sensitive spot and he rammed inside you, pounding you into the mattress. It was a blessing that your parent's room was downstairs, as they rested, oblivious to their daughter getting ruined by a man beyond her own years.

“Please— Duncan, it feels so good. Please keep going, give me more please sir.” You were a mess and hearing you moan his name made him go crazy. His hips picking up their pace, his cock pounding you into oblivion.

He stopped, turned you on your back and started fucking you relentlessly again. His hands reaching for your arms as he picked you up and pressed you flush against his brawny, scarred chest. This new position had more pleasure awaiting at its door and you couldn't even shut your mouth with your hands anymore, as he restrained you. Gripping your arms, fucking into your cunt.

“Such a good cunt.” He groaned, throwing his head back as he moved. “Takin’ me so well, like you were crafted for me. Pretty girl with a pretty cunt.”

His praises were so intoxicating and you were blitzed by now, without zero alcohol in your system. Duncan was fucking you so good, you'd lost all your senses besides ones that helped you in feeling him, hearing him, listening to him. You didn't care about your parents anymore, or God, or anyone. All you cared about getting fucked like some whore by Duncan.

Tears streamed down your face, your stomach once more churning in that sick feeling. Your thighs pressed against his, shivering and flinching everytime he thrusted up your cunt. Your heart was fucking throbbing in your chest, being able to feel its beating in your throat as he continuously bruised that spot of yours. Nearing you to your orgasm.

Duncan growled, right against your ear, leaving bite marks down your ear and nape, branding you. “You're mine, Little lamb. I'll visit your father more often just to fuck his little girl. You'll be ready for me, won't you? Let your uncle fuck you like this everytime he visits?”

You nodded, sobbing and sputtering broken sentences. Your face drenched in tears as you lost yourself in the bliss, body twitching and shaking from how overwhelmed you were. Then you felt him deliver a slap to your spine, grabbing your hair from behind. His rough demeanor sending a rush of need into your core.

“Say it,”

“Y-Yes, Uncle Duncan.” You cried out, your whole body had gone limp by now. The forbidden situation you'd gotten yourself in making you feel sick but instead calling him that name made your cunt tighten around his cock. “Please v-visit more— fuck me more, please sir.”

He felt himself close.

And so did you.

Both of them reached their highs but Duncan wanted her to cum first so his arm extended out, his hand sliding between your thighs to toy with your clit. He pinched and rubbed it, causing you to gasp. Eyes rolling back in pure bliss, your stomach tightening and cunt clenching around him. All hinting towards your upcoming orgasm.

And so you unraveled.

Eyes witnessing white, body ascending to heaven as intensity at its peak crashed down on you. All of it was too much and your body fell forward, face buried in the pillows and sheets to cry out the remnants of your orgasm.

Duncan picked up his face, feeling your juices coat his cock and then he soon reached his orgasm, his cock pumping loads of cum inside your little cunt. Filling you up to the brim, watching as some of it even leaked out and made a mess down on the sheets. He couldn't care less, his chest rumbling from gruff groans and moans. God, the high he felt with you was different — unique. Something he had never felt before.

He stared at you, spine exposed and erect as you laid across him, face buried in the pillows and he leaned down. Still inside you, he left bite marks down the bone of your spine, branding you as his. Claiming you as his forever. He felt something possessive consume him, something dark when he saw how vulnerable you were. He'd fucked you, defiled you, the blood of your virginity coating his cock mixed with your and his release but innocence still wafted off you.

It drove him insane.

Duncan fixed their position, laying next to you as he pulled you to him. You were out of it and he cupped your face, staring at you. A look of worry crossed his features, finding you this numb. “Little lamb, are you alright?”

You looked up at him and nodded. In reality, you were too fucked out. The ache in your cunt hasn't subsided at all and somewhere you craved for more. You leaned into his chest and wrapped your arms around him. “Sir, will you come back for me?”

“I might just kidnap you.”

You perked up at that. “Can I have my freedom then?”

Duncan let out a chuckle, nodding his head at her, aware of her living situation. “You can go anywhere you want, Little lamb. As long as it is with me.”

[sanarsi]

Forbidden fruit

Javier Peña x informant!f!Reader

(part 2 for “It’s just business”) - you can read without knowing part 1

Summary: Your affair with Agent Peña was wrong and you both knew it. But how could he resist you when he was starting to fall for you? Warnings: +18, MDNI, unprotected PIV, dirty talk, insults, soft!dom!Javier, mention of drugs, age gap (not specified), wild animal Wordcount: 2,2k An: I was in the mood for something a little exotic? Well, as a drug cartel boss you can afford to do weird things so a big kitty is a cool idea. Music I worked with: Woman - Doja Cat

Masterlist

For the umpteenth time this month Javier had left work early.

Every time because of you.

Specifically because of a stupid text message that had his dick painfully erect in a matter of seconds.

You: If you want to get some information from me today, I suggest you hurry up before I lose my appetite for your dick.

You: Or don’t. My fingers are also fine.

You had him wrapped around your finger. He was at your beck and call, fulfilling your every whim like an obedient dog.

Not that he's complaining.

Your pussy was worth everything.

That's why he drove towards your house, every now and then adjusting his cock in his pants.

Javier: I'm on my way.

Javier: Don't touch yourself or you'll regret it.

He was definitely crazy about you. At work, all he could think about was how beautiful you looked taking his cock in your mouth. How beautifully you moaned his name. How heavenly you tasted.

Fuck, you were like an aphrodisiac to him.

Forbidden fruit always tasted the sweetest.

And you were the perfect example of everything he shouldn't crave. Now passing on information was an excuse to meet again and again. And you only talked about it after fucking each other for hours.

Perfect pillow talk.

Javier finally drove out of the city onto the nearly empty dirt roads. The villa you owned couldn't help but be hidden in the fields. Your position forced him to travel to the fucking middle of nowhere to your house. He had to admit that you cared about your safety and privacy when he first found himself in your apartment, fucking you on the kitchen counter.

You: Was that supposed to encourage or discourage me?

Javier snorted at your response and threw his smoked cigarette out the window. His car left clouds of dust behind it. He didn't even care that he was going twice as fast as he should have.

Since he was regularly dipping his cock into your cunt, he didn't care about much actually.

The outline of your house appeared on the horizon and a smile immediately appeared on his lips. He glanced in the mirror, running his fingers through his hair and adjusting his sunglasses on his nose. He had to admit that because of you, he was in his best shape. Always a perfectly ironed shirt, a perfectly trimmed mustache and always a hard cock.

And your sex was like cardio that kept him in such good shape, that he didn't even get tired during the chases. Even the fact that you were involved in the cocaine trade no longer bothered him.

But he couldn't admit it out loud to himself.

The gate to your estate opened for him when he wasn't even close. He drove into the yard under the watchful eye of your men. He had grown accustomed to the contemptuous glances they sent his way whenever you weren't around. It even amused him a little.

Because it was his name you were screaming, not theirs.

He stopped right outside the front door and with a smirk grabbed a folder of papers and a fucking bouquet of flowers from the seat.

Yes. Javier Peña started buying you flowers.

You actually thought it was sweet.

Javier entered the house, passing several guys with guns.

And his was sitting nicely behind his back.

Thanks to your men, he knew where to find you. Most of them were hanging around the exit to the garden. It was probably your favorite place from what he had noticed.

And as usual, he wasn't wrong when he noticed your figure lounging on the big bed.

With a fucking tiger that was your pet.

That was something Javier couldn't get used to. The idea of ​​a wild animal that had been domesticated by your hands terrified him. But he had to admit that you looked sexy as hell laying there in your swimsuit, petting sleeping beneath your head beast.

Your attention immediately turned to him as he crossed the threshold of the terrace. You smiled broadly, biting your lip and got out of bed.

"Leave," you said confidently and several men left your field of vision without a word, leaving you alone.

Javier carelessly threw the folder with papers on the table next to and approached you feeling a strange relief when he wrapped his arms tightly around you. He connected your lips in a kiss that he immediately deepened. You purred into his mouth with a smile when your tongues started dancing with each other. You tangled your fingers in his hair and placed your other hand on his jaw. His fingers tightened on your hip only to slide down to your ass a moment later. You laughed pushing him away from you.

"You made me wait again," you threw accepting the bouquet of flowers from him. "You're sweet." You smiled smelling the flowers. "So I will forgive you," you said and let him steal a sweet kiss from your lips. You moved towards the entrance to the house to put the flowers in a vase.

"Next time I expect an engagement ring," you shouted from inside the house to which Javier laughed under his breath. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, glancing suspiciously at the tiger who was still sleeping soundly. After a moment you came back with a wide smile on your lips and a glass of whiskey in your hand.

You even knew what kind of whiskey he liked and you filled your bar with it. Fucking joke…

Javier accepted the glass from you, kissing you quickly on the lips and patting your ass when you passed by. You squealed quietly, which made a small smirk appear on his lips.

"I'll get fired because of you," he said lightly taking a sip of alcohol. You threw yourself back on the bed and looked at him shrugging innocently.

"They probably don't pay you enough anyway," you said with a smirk. He rolled his eyes and slowly approached you sitting down next to you. His hand immediately found itself on your thigh stroking your delicate skin.

"Information," he threw, running his hand over your hip and waist.

"Right down to business?" you asked, making a sad face.

Javier raised an eyebrow, taking another sip of whiskey. His fingers tightened on your skin, to which you smiled flirtatiously, biting your lip.

"I don't know, Agent Peña," you smacked your lips disapprovingly. "I guess you'll have to force the information out of me."

Javier looked at you, amused. "Yeah?" he said teasingly.

"Yeah," you nodded as he slowly leaned closer to you. He put the glass on the ground and his hand slid under your swimsuit. He connected your lips in a deep kiss, tightening his hand on your breast. You moaned into his mouth, running your hands up his arms.

Oh… he loved how much your relationship had changed in the short time your romance had lasted. You were so fucking open and willing to anything he did to you.

You let him do anything because he always made sure you were satisfied every time. And if you didn't come from his cock, he made up for it with a series of orgasms from his finger and mouth, leaving you breathless.

Yeah… Javier Peña was the perfect lover.

His hand slid down your body to your pussy, which he began to gently rub through the material of your panties. You moaned in pleasure and began to thrust your hips into his hand.

He loved that you were acting like a whore around him. Your moans were like from porn and your hips moved like you were born just to jump on his dick.

You were fuckin’ perfect.

Your touch was so greedy it made him smirk. He slowly hovered over you, settling himself between your legs. You moaned as he ground his hips against yours. You pulled him closer by the neck as he began to untie the strings of your panties. You moved your hips again to rub against him.

"Someone woke up in a slutty mood today," he purred into your mouth, throwing your panties aside. His fingers immediately dove into your wet cunt, starting to fuck you.

You moaned louder and his cock twitched painfully. He curled his fingers inside you with each movement, immediately stimulating your sensitive spot. He definitely didn't like to waste time on slow foreplay.

Unless he fucked you half the night and released some of the tension. But around you he was constantly walking around as horny as a teenager.

You suddenly broke the kiss, throwing him off of you to the side. Javier looked confused as you sat on his thighs, starting to unbutton his pants.

"Damn, you're really hungry," he commented with a surprised smile.

In concentration, you slid the pants down his hips a little and stroked his cock through the material of his boxers. He immediately trembled, clinging to your touch. You smiled with satisfaction at how hard he was for you. You sighed, taking him out of his underwear and lifted your hips, positioning yourself above him.

"Yeah, I think I'm ovulating," you said, slowly running the tip along the entire length of your wet slit. You both moaned and his hands tightened on your thighs as you slowly sat on him.

You moaned the whole way down like a real whore.

"Jesus," he groaned, throwing his head back, closing his eyes.

Your hole was so fucking smooth and creamy. He couldn't stop his cock from twitching. You took off your bra and started moving your hips. Sensually and slowly.

You leaned back, resting your hands on his thighs. You arched giving him a perfect view of your body. How your pussy swallowed his cock. How your tits tensed.

"Fuck baby, ride me like that," he breathed, running his hands over your hips and waist.

Suddenly, a tiger growled softly next to him. Javier watched with a fast beating heart as the large cat slowly walked past him and rubbed its head against your shoulder and back. You smiled widely, panting heavily, and let the tiger rub its head against yours before it walked away towards the garden. Javier watched everything with a lump in his throat and his cock twitched inside you.

Sometimes he forgot what a powerful woman you were.

How lucky he was to have gotten into your good graces.

You moaned, tightening your fingers on his thighs. You slowly lifted your hips, rotating them in small circles, feeling that today it would be enough for you to come.

But then Javier's thumb was on your clit, teasing it with slow movements. You shuddered, tightening on his cock. And he had to admit that your pussy was in better shape than usual today. He felt you perfectly on his cock. The way you gently surrounded him with your warmth and almost didn't let him out.

“I’m gonna come,” you moaned as you felt yourself begin to throb with each stroke of his cock inside you and his thumb on your clit.

"Oh si, cariño, ven gritando mi nombre para que todos sepan quién te está jodiendo.” He lifted himself up, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your neck. His hands helped lift your hips a little higher so you could come down on him with more force. Impaling you more on his cock. Harder. Deeper.

"Ay Javi, justo ahí. Tu polla fue hecha para mí,” you moaned, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“Come on baby, come on,” he breathed heavily before you locked lips in a sloppy kiss. You moaned softly into his mouth each time you lowered yourself onto his cock.

And finally, your orgasm washed over your body.

“Oh fuck, Javi-” you moaned loudly, throwing your head back. His lips immediately began to place wet kisses on your neck as he continued to move your hips.

You moaned throatily, clenching around his cock with the perfect amount of force that brought him to orgasm. He groaned against your skin as he came inside you, resting his forehead on your chest.

He moved your hips a few more times, squeezing every drop of cum out of him. You both panted heavily as you held each other in your arms.

Finally, you sighed deeply one last time and looked at him with a smile. Javier quickly stole a sweet kiss from your lips.

"So what about this information?" you asked against his lips, running your fingers through his hair. He nuzzled your nose and stole another kiss again.

"Remind me about it after we finish the next round," he said, to which you laughed sweetly and squealed when in one movement he turned you on the bed, attacking your lips again.

Yes, he had fallen for you.

The worst thing was that he knew about it.

And didn't want to do anything to prevent it.

[henry7931]

Halloween Tales: Pumkle!

Caleb:

Okay I realize it’s not the best looking pumpkin but I tried my best! And I really wanted to do something fun for the season so… I guess I started with carving a pumpkin? I even named him Albert lol.

I’m 21, single, gay, and kinda lonely all around. I’ve really tried making attempts at making friends in my new college town but I guess I’m just weird. Plus, it doesn’t help that my parents got me a townhome to myself.

I started to head inside when I heard the sound of a car pulling in. I look up and knew instantly by the 2009 mustang that it was in fact my uncle Dennis.

“Oh great!”

Dennis climbs out and immediately starts talking.

“Sup Bud!”

“Hi Uncle Dennis. What are you doing here?”

“Well I talk to my brother and I’m out of a job right now. And he said I can come live with you for a bit. So looks like we’re roommates!”

“Fuck…” I say under my breath.

I thought for a moment he heard me but he just kept talking… which eventually turned into a ramble.

“So yeah, like I was saying you’re going to have to be cool with what I want around here. Starting with getting rid of this stupid pumpkin.”

“Oh come on Dennis! I just got done with carving it! His name’s Albert.”

“Ha! You named him? How fucking silly! We’ll say goodbye to Andy.”

“Albert.”

Dennis carries my pumpkin to our dumpster and tosses it in.

I walk back into my house pissed off. I couldn’t believe he just did that!

I stayed in my room for hours trying my best to avoid him. But eventually I have to leave my room.

It’s 8 o’clock now and I walk out of my room. I look around and Dennis had literally turned my place into his own person man cave.

I walk outside to find sitting on my front porch.

“You’re awake! I was wonderin when you’re gonna start cooking dinner because I’m starving!”

“Bro you can’t cook?”

“Hell no! But you can,” he says lighting a cigarette.

“Why would I do that,” I say crossing my arms.

“Well you can cook for me or I can tell your parents all the bad things you’ve been doing here.”

I roll my eyes and stormed into the kitchen. I cook for him and he even complained about the food!

After that, I uncle Dennis pulled off his clothes down to his boxers and flung his body on the couch. I couldn’t believe his lack of decency. But I also felt something strange deep inside of me. A weird attraction to his fit body.

I realize my uncle is a good looking man but his personality sucks! And I feel so grossed out by even finding myself being so turned on…

But his big smelly feet… his pits… his chest… his bulge… god it’s been a minute since I’ve seen a handsome my body that wasn’t on the internet.

I run off to bed and lay down. I realize that I have a raging boner. So I angrily started jerking off trying not to think about Dennis.

But alas… his body is all I have on my mind.

I think about how he’s such a dick that I literally blurt out, “I wish that I could change Dennis! That someone or something would just takeover him and let me do whatever I want with his body! I want to smell his feet so bad! I want to feel his cock… his balls! Have his strong hands rub all over me!!! Ohhhh fucccccc…”

I came at the thought and soon fell asleep.

The Next Morning…

I wake up and get out of bed. I head to the bathroom and here Dennis is inside.

“Hey Dennis can you hurry up! I have to pee!”

Dennis swings open the door and he’s standing in his briefs last night and he’s WEARING MY PUMPKIN ALBERT OVER HIS HEAD!

“Really funny Dennis! Now take it off.”

Dennis shrugs at me and then I notice something… the pumpkin is hallow…

I begin to scream and run… the pumpkinhead wearing uncles body follows me until I’m in a corner.

“What are you going to do to me?!?,” I say to it as it fully approaches.

He reaches out and grabs my hand. He moves my hand to Dennis’s crotch. He return reaches into my pajama pants and starts fondling my dick…

“Holy crap…”

I lose train of thought for second because it feels so good.

“ Hold on a sec, how and why are you controlling Dennis’s body?”

He turns and looks around the room trying to search for something. And then gestures like he wants to write something.

I find him a pin and paper. I give it to him and he starts to write.

“Hi Caleb, it’s me Albert! I heard your wish last night and decided to take over Dennis. Thank you for granting me his body, I’m so happy to have it. Now I can’t wait to serve you. This body is now just as much as yours as it is mine. Oh and one more thing! Sorry I look scary right now butI’ll look normal soon I promise!”

“My wish… that’s right! Wait… What about Dennis’s uhhh head.”

Albert grabs my hand and leads me to the front porch. I see a new pumpkin sitting with what looks to be a very angry face.

“That’s Dennis?”

He gives me a thumbs up.

“So what now?”

He takes my hand and leads me back to the bedroom.

Albert lays down on my bed and pulls off his new bodies briefs.

The beautiful body that once belonged to my Uncle Dennis is now completely naked in front of me.

I thought for a moment that maybe I should stop but what’s the point? I can’t undo anything now.

I get into bed with him and immediately press my face into his crotch. He has this mush to him that so hot to me and I just know it’s been a minute since his body has had a proper shower.

I kiss down his thighs and look down at his big sexy feet.

I look up at Albert and say, “feel free to play with your new dick for a few. I’m going to be down here,” I say directing to his feet.

I run my tongue up and down his soles while watching Albert gently fondle his new dick. He twists his nipples which causes his dick to leak a bit.

I stand up and pull off everything that I’m wearing.

I put his big feet together and start rubbing my boner in between his soles. Albert catches on and starts giving me a foot job.

He works his toes so well… it’s impressive especially since last night he didn’t have any.

I moaning loudly and Albert pace’s faster on both of our cocks. Im watching his big hairy balls move up and down… his tight grip on his cock…

I can’t take much more…

We both explode at the same time. His feet and his chest is covered in cum.

I lick his toes clean and work my way up to his chest.

I lick his cum off of him and I notice something. His cum has a pumpkin flavor to it.

I bust out laughing and crawl up to his chest. He pulls me in and we’re both lying naked cuddled up together.

A few hours later, we wake up from a nap and we’re both hard again. This time Albert takes control and works my cock for me.

I cum again and crawl down to his dick. I give his throbbing head a kiss before sucking him off.

Albert seems to love it from how squirmy it made his body. He must have known he was close because he literally pushes my head in and cums down my throat.

We eventually get up and I take us to the bathroom.

I turn on the shower and we both get in. Our bodies are rubbing soap all on each other and I keep kissing him. Albert seems to be fascinated by my cock because he can’t stop touching it.

I feel his cute hairy butt and got an idea. I gingerly inserted a finger into his hole.

“Is that okay?” I ask him.

That’s when he makes almost a grunting noise.

“Oh my god Albert! Are you about to speak?”

“Mmmmhuuuu-yuuu-sss.”

“Wow! Thats awesome!”

After our shower I dry us off and I head to the suitcase Derek brought. I dig through his clothes and found an outfit for Albert that I thought would look sexy on him.

I get him dressed and he sits on the couch. I pull my phone out to take a picture.

“Okay! Flex for me sexy!”

He taps at the couch to come sit with him but I tug off his boots and pull off his socks.

“Sorry I like seeing them.”

He wraps his arm around me and we watch a Halloween horror special together.

Soon it’s night time and I offer to cook for Albert but instead he gets up. He heads to the kitchen and starts cooking for me.

“You’re so sweet!”

As he brings out a plate, he starts to make a muffling noise.

“Uuuu— rr— muh-muh love.”

“Aww thank you. You’re my love too.”

After dinner, we both strip out of our clothes and full around for the third time.

This time Albert lets me insert a couple of fingers into his hole. I work it for a bit trying to be soft since he’s so tight.

I pull out and carefully insert my dick into him. His body quivers, I move back and forth inside of him.

He runs his hands all over me. He starts to moan…it’s a deep moan that sounds almost like Dennis’s voice.

“Harder Caleb! It feels soooo good,” he says clear as day.

I go faster and faster….

We’re both moaning so loud!

I feel myself about to cum inside of him and his dick explodes.

I lick his chest clean and we both fell asleep.

The next morning I wake up and almost thought yesterday was a dream.

I look over and Albert’s not in bed with me. But I notice a bunch of pieces of pumpkin are laying in the bed.

“Oh my god Albert!”

I rush out of my bedroom and run to the living room.

But I’m caught off guard when I hear a familiar voice say, “Good morning Caleb.”

I turn and see him… he has a human head! An exact match of Dennis…

“Hi…,” I say taking precaution just in case last night was a dream.

“Sorry, I wanted to surprise you. Do you like the new head?”

“Albert?”

“It’s me my love!”

I rush over to him and touch his face.

“God, this is… wow this is amazing!”

I kiss his lips and we keep kissing over and over again.

“So can I do that thing with my new mouth on your cock now?”

“Oh god yes!”

A Month Later…

“So you ready to meet our family?”

“Yeah but do I have to pretend I’m Dennis?”

“Yeah babe and you can’t be flirty with my parents around. It’s taboo.”

“Fine! But can we at least share a bed?”

“Well I guess I’m sure that would be fine since they only have my old bed.”

“Great! Now come give your uncle Dennis a kiss before we have to go!”

I roll my eyes and pulled Albert in for a long kiss.

“Oh don’t forget the pumpkin pie! I made it from scratch.” 😉

[blushweddinggowns]

 “So let me get this straight. You met a hot guy, conned him into a date with you, lied about who you were to get into his pants and still failed. Then kept going, bought a new phone and rented a fake apartment, fell in love him, continued this elaborate ruse for four months, and now you want me to figure out a way for you to get out of it?”

“...yes?”

“Oh my fucking god,” Chrissy nearly screeched into his ear, “That is what you have been doing? Have you lost your damn mind?!”

“Obviously, yes!” Eddie yelled right back, feeling fraught as hell. He was pacing back and forth, a cigarette in hand as he spoke, “I never planned on ending up here!”

“Really? Because this whole shit show seemed to need a lot of planning. Is this really what happens when I leave you unsupervised? I am never letting you out of the house again.”

Eddie was well aware he deserved the ribbing. He deserved much worse, but that didn’t change the fact that he was desperate, “Chris, I’m serious. I need help.”

“Eddie, I love you but come on. You need a plane ticket and an apology muffin basket and to move on. This guy doesn’t even know you.”

“It’s not like that,” Eddie said as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, “It’s-okay. I’m still me with him. It’s like…I’m acting like who I would have been if I was never famous. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

“Have you tried delusional? Also, can I get a picture of this guy? How hot can one dude be to drive you-”

“I’m serious,” Eddie interupted, irritation coloring his voice, “I told him everything. The shit about my parents, Wayne, the drugs, you, everything.”

“You realize that everything would include your real name right? And again, a picture for the love of god would really help put this in perspective-”

“You know what I mean,” Eddie sighed. She still wasn’t getting it, “I’m in love with him. Like Chris, he was made for me. And if I had just stuck to tattooing instead of doing the music shit then I’m pretty sure he’d think the same of me.”

He could hear a small intake of breath on her end, her voice coming out a bit more concerned than before, “Eds, are you serious?”

“Dead. I… I think he’s the one,” No, that was another lie. Eddie took a deep breathe before admitting the truth, “He is the one. And… I don’t want to lose him. I can’t lose him.”

“Honey, it’s an infatuation. A really, really strong one, but still-”

“Chrissy. Listen to me. I want to marry him. Do you understand me now?”

If that didn’t get through to her nothing else would. Because Chrissy Cunningham had spent hours upon hours of listening to Eddie complain about the institution of marriage since fucking highschool. How it was all a farce, just some bullshit people pulled for tax reasons and patriarchal idealism. And now here he was, fucking day dreaming about the perfect happily ever after with the love of his life. 

“Oh Jesus,” Chrissy groaned, the sineritcy Eddie was looking for finally creeping into her voice, “Sweetie, I’m so sorry… but I think you might have fucked yourself too big on this one.”

“Isn’t there something I can do?” Eddie pleaded into the phone, like Chrissy actually had all the power in the world to fix this, “What if I just lead a double life? Couldn’t that work?” 

He had seen a movie about that once or twice. It was a thing. Or if it wasn’t then he could make it one.

But Chrissy didn’t seem too convinced, “Eddie, honey, you’re describing the plot of Hannah Montana like it can actually be a solution. Do you realize how insane that is? Do you not get how far you’ve fallen?”

from the next chapter of this fic

[thinemoonshine]

⋆𐙚₊ 𝔂𝐨𝐮, 𝗮 𝓵𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐝 𝓭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 ˚⊹♡

good boy!jay x bad girl!reader content: fluff(?), angst, suggestive (not really tho), kisses, reader and jay both fall but jay falls harder—like, he's down bad, (y/n) is a bad influence but not mean, jay’s obsessed type: oneshot word count: 2.2k

inspired by enhypen’s track, ‘blind’

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ synopsis: in which jay will do whatever it takes to win her heart—even if it means ruining himself ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

jongseong is the human embodiment of good. he’s discipline. he’s a gentleman. he’s everything nice. and he took pride in that, he enjoys being the warm, friendly guy who everyone sees as a welcoming haven. sure, it gets tiring sometimes and people can be a bit unappreciative—but at the end of the day, it’s just in him to be kind.

so when he saw a girl all bruised and battered sitting against the wall of their uni’s entrance one rainy evening, he expected himself to lend a hand—offering to bring her to his home for a little emergency first aid since she was adamant against the hospital.

but what he didn’t expect is to fall for her so quickly, so intensely, over the course of a few days of her staying at his house. in fact, his house feels more homey and lovable with (y/n) around—even with the occasional clothes strewn around or the scent of strawberries and cigarettes that linger around her.

so when she disappears unannounced one day, leaving only a note saying that she’ll ‘make sure to pay him back for his help,’ he finds himself losing his mind. a multitude of emotions in a constant turbulence as his senses are numbed for everything but the ache to feel the remnants of her.

it was tolerable at first—her sweet and smoky scent still lingering in his home, her clutter in the guest room still carrying her presence and the snacks that he bought for her being in the fridge and pantry deserving as a constant reminder of how she truly enjoyed her stay with him.

he could still see her, her smiles and twinkling eyes, and he could still hear her, her laughter and snores—for a moment, it seemed like she’s still with him.

but overtime, his memories of her molded into one another, creating blurry images and indistinguishable hues, her scent now gone and the objects that used to remind him of her— that remain untouched by him to retain that familiarity—just seem like…stuff.

and suddenly, everything is insufferable.

jay sobs into her pillow as he curls into himself, eyes red and jaw clenched tightly to quieten his woeful whimpers as he cries. it’s suffocating. his house is so big and spacious yet each and every room feels constricting. the walls and floors keep moving—all except the ones in her room.

“(y/n)…” he chokes out as he clutches the envelope of cash tighter against his chest. (y/n) kept her promise though—never missing her weekly payback to him but she never comes. just a fixed amount of cash stuffed into a plain white envelope sent to him and just torturing him with her absence.

still, the fact that she still holds him in her mind offer him comfort.

‘she hasn’t forgotten me,’ he thinks as he weakly flutters his heavy, puffy eyelids open. he sits up slowly, feeling cold all of a sudden as air blows onto the wet patch on his cheek from his own salty tears and he stares at the white sheet in his hand.

‘i’ll find you, (y/n). and this time, i won’t let you go.’

—

(y/n) stares up at the dark, plain canvas above, saddened by the fact that no stars are there to light it up. but she quickly digresses as her attention falls on her lit cigarette to inhale a puff.

she smoothly blows it out and watches as the fog dissipates before her eyes and taking in another. it feels…odd, to be just casually smoking without a care of her surroundings despite it being such a normal routine.

her experience staying in jay’s house seems to be internalized far deeper into her than she realizes considering how her habits there feel more normal than what she always does since long ago.

back in his house, she would always smoke out at his balcony and at the slightest sound that signals his approach, she’d kill the cig on its ashtray and wave her hand frantically to rid off any remaining puffs—not wanting him to inhale any.

so to be carefree now just feels iffy, as weird as it is. a heavy sigh escapes past (y/n)’s lips along with a long trail of smoke and she ends the cigarette before even finishing it. she has no appetite for it now.

hands in her leather jacket’s pockets, she then turns back into the club to return to her job of luring filthy rich men to spend more money and turning them into regulars. it’s a fun gig mostly, seeing that they’re usually narcissistic snobs thus, feeding their egos do the trick nicely but it’s risky too. once they realise that they’re in fact, not ‘special’ to her, they’ll fall into a tantrum. that’s what got her bruised up when jay found her.

“so, got any targets for me?” she asks the bartender who’s usually the one to keep an eye out for her next victim.

the worker points his chin to a man sitting in a bar booth alone, head facing away from them as he drinks from his wine glass. he’s apart from the dance floor, isolated from the lively section of the club where people usually sink themselves in when coming to a place like this.

(y/n)’s brows raise at his luxurious clothing—expensive fabric and suit that’s clearly tailored to him with every cut and edge accentuating his figure, colours and ornate accessories that are neither ostentatious nor humble and sparkly dress shoes that seem awfully brand new or just freshly polished.

the man exudes money. he probably smells just like it too.

“do you enjoy being a lone wolf? or would you not mind a little bit of company?” (y/n) starts slowly once she reaches the table. her voice sultry and yet relaxed, expressing interest but not coming off too desperate. a professional in her line of work.

the man stays silent for a moment before finally turning his head and the foxy smile the girl wears falls instantly.

“jay?” she shakily sounds, shock dripping from her tone. “what are you doing here?”

“i want to be. i’m a grown man capable of making his own decisions,” he casually says, a half-smile on his face as he lowers down his wine glass onto the table with precision, not making a single noise. “just like you, a grown woman capable of making her own choices—packing up and leaving me without so much of a proper goodbye.”

the girl flinches at his sharp tone. it’s acrimonious, accusatory but there’s not a single hint of malicious intent. instead, it’s more of deep-rooted hurt. a pained comment.

“i’m sorry. but it’s for the better,” she simply says, not wanting to drag the topic more than it should with the way her throat’s tightening—tears threatening to fall. “you should leave. it’s a weekday, go to your lecture or something.”

she turns on her heels, hasty, because she knows that every second spent with him will just weaken her resolve of rejecting him.

but she’s forced to a stop at his next words.

“i’m not studying anymore. thought it was useless considering i’m going to take over the family business anyways,” he casually says and bites back a triumphant grin when she swivels back to him with disbelief painted across her face.

“what?? but jay, your dream! you told me all about it—how you want to finish your studies and graduate, how you want to reach as high as you can before you’ll have to settle for the business. what about all that??” (y/n) rambles as the bewilderment grows.

he was so happy talking about it. she remembers it all so vividly, how he pictures himself in the future, how he has a list of things he wishes to achieve, how this mindset was created from the moment he gained consciousness over himself—to prove that he’s capable of more than what anyone has ever expected.

but now? he tells her that he’s stopped his degree? that he thinks it’s futile. who even is he?

“well, dreams change,” he begins and makes his way to stand in front of the girl. with a playful, almost sly grin stretched on his defined face, his hand reaches to hold her chin before lifting it up towards him. “mine did the moment i fell for you. although, it did take me a while to notice—needing you to leave me before it finally struck.”

the other says nothing—no, she can’t say anything. she doesn’t know what to say. her brain’s all muddled and figure turned to putty in his hand and the devious smirk he wears shows that he seems to be aware of it. and he takes pride in it, reveling at fact as he uses his other hand to brush her stray strands away from her face before kissing her forehead.

and they travel—down to her eyes, to her cheekbones, cheeks, nose and finally, her lips. he hovers slightly as he stares at them, mesmerized by the glossy pink and breathing deepening at the anticipation of the feeling.

he’s only ever dreamt of this moment, to be this close to her, even when she was still living with him. back then, she never let him come within her space. not in a way where she blatantly pushes him away or rejects every form of skinship. after all, they still cuddled during nights she felt lonely and he played with her hair every so often. but ishe simply retreated whenever she saw him approach her with a slightly different intent—when his eyes gazed at her with affection heavier than usual or when his gestures seemed more intimate despite having no significant difference than the ones before.

she sensed it whenever he tried to take a step forward, so she took a step back.

but now, here she is, with a proximity so dangerous, her almost pressed up against him, and their faces just mere inches away. a small nudge and they’ll crash into one another.

his chest heaves at the thought and scalp tingles. he’s getting impatient. inching himself closer, his gaze flickers to hers for a reaction and at the absence of rejection, he instantly closes the gap between them. a guttural sound rumbles through him as his arm snakes around her waist before pulling her taut against him—her arms reciprocating the gesture.

she gasps at the hardness of his bod, never before realising how built he is and he smirks, instantly darting his tongue between her teeth and groaning at her taste. the sweet sour taste of wine mixed with her smokey cigar, dominates their taste buds and jay moans with pure gratification. he’s never tasted such a delicacy before. he craves for more.

he pulls away to give her the breaths she very much needs but doesn’t loosen his grip, simply letting her collect herself as she clings close. his gaze never leaves her face, tracing her every feature and etching them into his mind as his hand caresses soothingly on her cheek. his touch is searing, warmth seeping into her flesh and bones, melting her even further.

the familiar scent of strawberries and cigarettes fills his nose and his eyes roll to the back of his head before they shut. he shudders as her presence subjugates his senses and he presses a small kiss on her crown to assuage his urge to consume her right where she stands.

he digs his face into her hair, drowning himself in her scent as he whimpers words of gratitude like a mantra, tears lining the rims of his shut eyes. the realisation of finally having her back in his arms is real. not just another one of his fantasies or a desperate plea but reality. her warmth, her touch, her voice, they’re all here. she’s here with him. and he’d rather perish than to ever let her slip through his fingers again.

who knew that spending barely a month without her could drive him insane? not him, not until now, at least. but (y/n) has always been the element of surprise for him.

"now, let's go back to our home, yeah?" jay says with a cadence so saccharine that (y/n) feels an instant sense of longing and her arms subconsciously tighten around him, making his heart skip miles per second. "but before that, how about we get those pretty nails of yours done? i booked you an appointment at your favourite salon. you can get that set you've been telling me all about last time, hm?"

the girl pulls away as she casts her scrutinizing stare onto his face, searching for any sort of falsity or falter in his facade but all she sees is pure, unrestrained affection oozing from his tender countenance—a man truly enamoured and it's seen by every single soul in the room.

jay's underlying anxiousness settles once he sees her finally, relax her shoulders and cave to his allures and he once again, pulls her against his chest—hand running up and down her back as he quietly revels in his victory while his lips peppers loving kisses onto her knuckles, spending longer on her ring finger as he envisions a shiny band wrapped beautifully around it.

sure, his decisions go against everything he's set for himself, everything his parents had expected of him. it requires him to rewrite himself in ways he never even thought of, to reconstruct the foundation of his beliefs and understanding of perfection as he knows it—but it's all worth it.

for (y/n), anything and everything is worth it.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bambi (heeseung ver.), puppy boy (jaeyun ver.), skater boy (sunghoon ver.)

𝜗𝜚 disclaimer: i do not condone any reckless behaviour portrayed in this work. this is entirely fiction and does not depict the member's real personality. if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog—they give me some motivation, ya know? but please do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader: Together Apart Ch.5

Warnings/Mentions: History of abuse, neglect, strong language, mentions of character death, alcohol and drug abuse, ptsd, shared trauma, reader is cold, angst, fluff, eventual smut, slowburn, angst

Summary: You and Daryl grow closer due to feeling out of place in Alexandria. Just when you think you have the old Daryl back, he leaves.

Notes: I think the chapter after this one will be the last chapter, and finally have some cheesy old fashion love making :D Sorry Daryl vanishes at the end tho ):

It never seemed to end for him. In front of everyone else he was silent, emotionless, an empty body on autopilot. But when you'd walk off into the trees to search for water, it always hit him, no matter how many times he'd thought he'd cried out all out and was done with it. 

He clung to you after her death like never before, constantly walking in your shadow and wordlessly begging for some sort of comfort, reassurance, anything. You did the best you could, which ended up being more than either of you expected. You seamlessly morphed into the familiar elder sister role, mirroring the ways you would comfort your bruised baby brother. 

He put a cigarette out on his hand the one time he went off by himself, and not following him was something you came to regret. 

“Daryl,” the whisper of your voice had him cringing, the sound too empathetic and full of concern, he had to fight to keep himself from cracking when your comfort washed over him. 

“I know… I'm not good with words, or shit like this.” You sighed, maintaining a quiet tone, low enough for the sound of rain and the crackle of fire to cover. 

Daryl remained silent as you spoke. He picked at the skin around his fingers, looking down at his hands in his lap, and the sight of your smaller hand lightly touching his wrist makes him jerk. 

“I can't take away your pain, God knows I'd kill every goddamn piece of shit alive to make you feel better.” Your voice turned shaky, and the urge to cry was becoming overwhelming for the both of you. “But... I can promise you, you'll never have to worry about losing me. I just want you to know, I'm that one thing you don't need to worry about. I always will be.” 

Daryl slowly inhaled through his stuffy nose and nodded, the noise dry and shaky, his eyes burning and unblinking from their gaze on your hand. 

“I know.” He finally spoke and nodded again, as if that would magically set it in stone. “Me too.”

Slipping back into your place in the group dynamic was unpleasant after being alone with Gabriel for that long. It wasn't just one person you had to make an effort for anymore, and deep down you despised it. It was almost comparable to going back to school after summer break. You had to play by the rules again, fit into their perfect perception or risk repercussions. 

The discovery of Eugenes lies was all but a surprise to you. You didn't have some wild sense of intuition, you were just a pessimistic person. Although you kept your opinions to yourself, you didn't predict the extent of how deep his lies had been. The cure was a given, obviously, but the fact he lied about being a scientist as well? Lied about the safe place in Washington too? It took everything you had in you not to cave his face in when you saw the look of disappointment on Daryl's face. That's another reason why you hated being in a group. People didn't deserve to be able to let you down, and sure as hell not the one person you gave a shit about. 

People love to parrot that same ‘it has to get worse before it can get better’ bullshit you'd been told by concerned and empathetic authority figures all throughout your childhood. Safe to say it had lost its meaning to you, even when Daryl tried to lift your spirits. 

Well, it sure got better for everyone else. 

You weren't alone in your suspicions about Aaron. For once Rick and you agreed on something, it was a bad idea to go to Alexandria. But the group convinced him to take a chance, that the rewards greatly outweigh the risks, and you watched with a disapproving glare as Aaron led you all past the gates. 

“I'm just going to ask you a few simple questions, get to know you. You don't mind if I record this, do you?” 

You had a feeling your answer wouldn't make any difference, no matter what you said. You shook your head as you watched Deanna turn her video camera on, the big black lens feeling like an intimidating pit waiting to swallow you up if you gave an answer she didn't like. She rounded the couch and sat down, a tight and professional smile on her lips. 

“Let's start with your name.”

You told her your name, trying to behave despite your stomach growling and the sudden awareness that you smelled and looked awful. 

“Where are you from,” She repeated your name. 

“Georgia. Up North.” 

“Did you work?”

“No.”

“What were you before the outbreak?” When you didn't answer, she elaborated. “Were you a student in school, staying at home, traveling…?”

“After high school I stayed home for a couple years. Took care of my mom.” 

“I understand you're close with Daryl, is that right?” 

You must've visibly reacted to that question, because even after you answered, she pressed for more information.

“Did you grow up together?”

“Kind of, we weren't really friends or anything. He lived nearby and I'd see him around.”

Deanna nodded as if she was your therapist listening to some deep-seated trauma. 

“Did you ask anyone else these questions?” You scratched the back of your arm, beginning to feel uncomfortable. 

“I ask everyone all kinds of questions. I want to get to know you all, it's not an interrogation. You don't need to answer any that you don't want to.”

She finally changed the subject to your relationship with Rick's group. Not that you were eager to talk about it, but at least she wasn't grilling you on Daryl anymore. 

“I've been here since before Rick came and took over. Back in Atlanta. Daryl and his brother Merle came to get me when it happened. I thought maybe they were having some bad trip or somethin'. Ran into my house yelling about dead folks coming back to life and eating people. If it wasn't for them, I'd probably be dead too, but, I think they mainly came to get me because they knew my mom had a stash of cigarettes and drugs.” You were chuckling as you spoke, not realizing you had given up so much information without her even asking. You instantly shut up, the amused smile leaving your face. 

“How do you get along with other members of your group?”

You cringed at the phrasing. They weren't your group, they were Daryl's people, you were just a temporary guest without a set time to leave. 

“Fine. Haven't heard any complaints. Have you?”

“No. But I have heard you don't work well with others.” 

You shrugged. 

“Do you want to be here?” The way she would use your name at the end of every few sentences was starting to get under your skin. 

“I'm kinda stuck with wherever Daryl wants to be.” 

Deanna ended the interview after a handful of other unimportant questions and you were allowed to leave, led to your new house by one of her son's. 

You took the longest and hottest shower of your life, only getting out when Abraham started pounding on the door. It brought back that same feeling of anxiety you'd get when your mother would bang on your locked door in a fit of anger. You nearly ran him over when you burst out of the bathroom, making him drop his change of clothes and call out a disgruntled complaint. 

“Who the hell is this?” 

Daryl looked up from his bag to see you looking down at him, a teasing grin on your fresh face. The image of you being all cleaned up had him momentarily stunned. It had been a while since either of you had seen each other clean like that. 

“Daryl? No way, where's your grease?” You toyed with his damp hair before sitting next to him on the floor near the fireplace, where he'd decided to sleep for the night. 

“Nah, I don't know you. Ya don't smell like bloody rabbits.” He retorted, leaning in to dramatically sniff at you. “The hell is that? Shampoo?”

“Uh, it's shampoo, conditioner, body wash, lotion, and toothpaste.” You replied, giving an exaggerated smile to show your clean teeth. 

You shared a few chuckles and jokes as the rest of the group cleaned up and prepared for bed. Even though you couldn't stand the place or the new people in it, the prospect of having your own room with an actual bed had you buzzing with excitement. 

Sleeping next to Daryl wasn't anything out of the ordinary for you. It was an arrangement that happened more nights than not. But sleeping next to Daryl in a safe house, wrapped in clean clothes, soft blankets, and not even the slightest whiff of the outdoors? It was overwhelming. 

You turned on your side to face him, watching as he stared up at the ceiling, the dark room filled with the familiar ambiance of gentle snoring and breathing. Daryl always slept after everyone else, and that night was no exception. 

Despite your instincts telling you not to, you wiggled on the blanket to move closer to him, nuzzling your face in his nearly dry hair, closing your eyes as you inhaled his clean scent. 

He stiffened at first, an automatic reaction which soon faded and he relaxed, tilting his head until his cheek rested against your forehead. He could barely feel the warm tickle of your breath under his jaw, the feeling soliciting a subliminal relaxation. His eyes closed then, and he listened to the barely audible whistle of your nose. He listened as the whistle got softer, slower, and nearly disappeared altogether as you fell asleep. 

Daryl made sure to untangle himself from you the next morning, before anyone else had the chance to wake up and witness your private bond. No one deserved to see that part of him or you, it was intended for the two of you alone, something deeper and more personal than anyone would understand. 

Adjusting to being around people was a challenge that went all the way back to school. Even in Atlanta you struggled with it, going from being a hermit with your sick mother to an adult in a large group of people, it felt like your first day of school all over again. 

That was all nothing compared to being in Alexandria. Not only were you surrounded by people that annoyed you, but another larger group of people you knew absolutely nothing about. 

They bestowed heavy responsibilities on you as well. It wasn't just scraping by washing clothes and hunting, it was work. Hard work. Wall building, gardening, work inside Alexandria, work outside their walls, near constant supply runs, and cooking. 

Parties. Pasta for dinner. A seemingly limitless flow of sparkling amber champagne. Some kid was walking their fucking pet dog on the sidewalk. 

It felt insulting. Their first impression on you firmly implemented your personal views towards them. Spoiled, weak, wearing faces of false persona, wives chittering like hens with warm knowing smirks. Husbands and men who always smiled like the sun, going out of their way to do things they considered nice for you, then putting on a somber and humble face if anyone had praised their hard work, dedication, and sacrifices. Sacrifices that basically ensued going to the grocery store. 

You hated it. You hated them, you hated their kids, you hated their houses that looked like mansions to you, and you hated the way Rick's group treated it like they'd walked through the bright pearly gates and not the glorified pretentious prison that it was. 

To your relief Daryl didn't quite like it either. 

“They invited us to what?” You didn't believe him when he said it to you as he stared around your new room. 

“Said it was a welcoming party.” He grunted, fingers picking at the edges of a tacky poster of a puppy on the wall. 

“A party? What do you mean a party?” 

“Dunno.” He sighed, throwing his hands up in muted exasperation. “S’jus what she said.” She being Deanna, the same woman who took away your guns, which yours had grown to be quite the impressive collection. But you being your hardened and sneaky self, you'd managed to smuggle two of your handguns into your room. Daryl got to keep his crossbow, of course, and you your own recurve bow, it was the bare minimum aside from your knives, which the others were allowed to keep as well. Sadly, you'd end up breaking that bow a few days later by slinging it at Pete's head.

“And everyone's going?” You pressed on from your seat on the bedroom dresser. 

“Dunno. Goddamn, told you what she told me, you know s’much as I do.” 

You went to the party. Of fucking course you would, they had full on meals with all the food groups, they had alcohol, they had little appetizers and finger foods you'd only ever seen on tv and in magazines, you'd be an idiot not to. The only con was the house was stuffed with people. You could barely make it two steps without bumping into a new face. 

You didn't stay long at all, leaving the second your stomach felt full, and you had a decent buzz going on. You snuck out the back door and snagged the half empty bottle of champagne on your way out. 

“Ya went?” Daryl was surprised to see you walking down the sidewalk in new clothes. The black button up hung a little loose on you, the sleeves bunched up around your elbows, the hem falling all the way past your ass. 

“I may not like those people, but they make some damn good casserole.” You snickered, popping out the metal reusable cork and taking a deep drink. 

Daryl grabbed the bottle from your outstretched hand and downed nearly the whole damn thing in three gulps. 

“Yeah yeah. Go on, help yourself.” 

He gave a weak grin at your playful scoff before handing the bottle back to you. 

“You remember what I said back in Atlanta.”

You looked to your side at Daryl as the two of you walked down the dimly lit path back to your new residence. “Gotta be more specific.” 

“Bout takin’ their shit an’ hauling ass outta there.” 

“Yeah. One of my biggest regrets is talking you out of it.” You sighed, your tone no longer playful and lighthearted. “We could be all the way across the country by now. Would still have Merle bitching out ears off and ranting about some racist conspiracy theory.” 

Daryl suddenly chuckled. “You ‘member that time he was tryin’ to come up with slurs for walkers?” His amused grin spread further when you erupted into laughter at the memory. “What was it he called ‘em? Rotters? Pus-suckers?”

“Yeah, those were some of the tamer ones.” At the time you'd been annoyed by Merle's constant need to remind you that the three of you were better and more superior than anything and anyone around you, but all this time without him and his humorous outlook on life, you missed it. You even missed when he'd belittle you, at the end of the day he still was sexist, despite the obvious care he held for you. 

“Why'd you ask though?” 

“Dunno.”

“Daryl.”

“Everyone's safe now, ain't gotta worry about ‘em anymore.” 

You kept quiet as he fought for the words to convey his thoughts. It was obvious he felt like the odd man out again, it was impossible not to, in a place as nice as Alexandria. The rest of the group had effortlessly slipped into their places in the new environment, if you were an onlooker, it would look as if time had frozen in place for the small neighborhood and its citizens. 

But Daryl, and you, it wasn't easy like that. You never had a normal life like this, so you had no default state to regress to. Daryl had only changed a little since the start, and you hadn't changed much at all. Your skin felt like it was burning with electricity at the insinuation in his words. 

“I'll go wherever you go, you know that.” You nodded firmly. “Just say the word.”

He ended up going to Carol with his vague plan, and then Rick. You don't know what they said to him, but the next morning he told you he wanted to give it a few days before he made his decision.

You should've just made the decision for him. You should have grabbed your stuff, packed your bags, and stole one of their cars and left. Because a few days turned into a hell of a lot longer. 

It wasn't all bad, the two of you grew even closer due to his feelings of being an outcast once again surfacing. It was the same for you, which caused you to cling onto him tighter than before. You slept on the same ratty mattress in your room, sometimes cuddling, but most of the time on separate ends.

You watched more people die around you, which was something you'd become bitterly accustomed to. Aiden, one of Deanna’s sons, and Noah, who you'd never spoken to before. Rick made some trouble for himself getting wrapped up in the wife of the town surgeon, and all hell broke loose after that. Pete lost his shit and accidentally killed Deanna's husband, and Rick killed Pete. As if there hadn't been enough blood shed, a hoard of walkers became an issue just as things started to calm down. 

You didn't like the role that'd been assigned to you. You were being seen and tasked as a protector, sent out by Rick with Abraham and a handful of others to build strategic walls for his master plan of relocating the hoard. 

Another thing you didn't like was the way people's views towards you changed. People who once never even spared you a second thought were speaking to you, making an effort to get to know you, and it was just as unsettling as that time Rick invited you over for dinner. 

“Too pretty to be so sad all the time.” Abraham had said once as you dug a hole for the wooden pillar. 

“I'm not sad.” You muttered, stepping back as three men lifted the wood into the hole. You poured in the instant concrete and took your gloves off to get a drink of water.

“So you just always have that sour look on your face then, huh?” 

“Only when I'm around people I don't know.” Or like, you thought to yourself. 

“I've known you for how long now? Course you know me. And Sasha, and Rosita, and-”

“You're people I'm stuck with. Doesn't mean I know you.” 

“Tsh.” He snorted, folding his massive arms across his equally massive chest. “So you're just a bitch then?” 

“Yeah.” 

One would think that conversation would've been enough to get the point across. No, sadly, it only made things worse. Rick ended up giving you jobs with more people, and you quickly caught onto the convenient way Daryl was almost never in those assigned groups. 

Rick was in charge, that was undebatable, but he wasn't in charge of your free will. You did your work as he asked, most of the time faster than expected, and spent every second of your free time with Daryl, even if it meant pulling four different jobs a day. 

It worked like that for a while, and eventually you did begin to change. Not you exactly, moreso your attitude had changed. You became less closed off, no longer baring teeth and claws as a constant warning. You actually enjoyed spending time with Abraham, as he was one of the only people that called you out for being shitty, he wasn't scared of your mean mug or the harsh bite of your words. It wasn't just Abraham you started to like. Maggie, Carol, Rosita, Michonne, and sometimes Tara, the small group shifted from strangers to acquaintances, some would call you their friend. They'd eventually worn down your hard exterior and you experimented a little with conversation and generosity. Carol was the exception, it was you who had to pursue her. Trying to become genuine friends with her was hard, it made you realize how hard everyone else had been trying with you. 

You even started decorating your room a bit. Nothing fancy, just a few homemade shelves and displays for your numerous weapons. You made a special one above your futon, the only object it held was the small gold tinted shell of a used bullet. 

All good things must come to an end. 

You sat alone in your shared room for the third night in a row, silent on your lumpy mattress, your eyes burning in effort to hold back tears. 

He hadn't even told you he was leaving. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx @jinx-nanami

[dokkamj]

DON’T DENY THE UNDENIABLE.

before your read! this is a 18+ story MDNI!! again i excuse myself for grammar mistakes, english is not my native language, enjoy.

(idk the credits for this pic, lmk if you know!)

-

another tequila shot down your throat as the party kept going, the mission with the Task Force 141 was successful and all the team’s wanted to have a party at the squad apartment, yeah the same that the upper plans told them to take care of, but tonight no one really cared after that mission.

Simon quite drunk, look at the messy living room and sigh as he took sight of Price flirting with the one that seems y/n’s captain, so if she was there… even that little thing was here somewhere, but where?

you took another shot with Soap and laughed “didn’t know that girls can handle this much alcohol” Soap said giggling “oh well, i don’t really know, maybe i need to wait” you said with a shrug before light up a cigarette.

your mood were calm, even if the thought to meet Simon make you a bit nervous. You two…. were complicated.

You squads often works together, and his rank was higher than yours, you two kissed once, but you both decide to don’t go further, for both you mean only you.

too scared to lose your work too scared to make it real.

you sigh as the thought of him make you frustrated, you took a puff of your cigarette as you keep thinking about him, he was the most handsome man you ever seen.

a 6’6 man, muscular, dirty blond hair, hazel eyes that turn honey in the sunlight, a nose slightly crooked since he broke it two times, and the fact that you were the only one to have seen his face makes you go insane.

It was just a pure case, you were in the field when an enemy attacks him from behind, pull Simon and taking off his balaclava in a fight, you where the one too shoot at the man that was attacking something that could be yours.

He makes you promise to don’t tell anybody that you saw his face, that now you know him at 100%.

the alcohol start to kick in since you see all blurry.

Simon at the other hand was quite drunk, can’t see a shit and the balaclava was strangely uncomfortable tonight. He respected the decision of yours to don’t get serious to don’t kiss again, but half of a whisky bottle a pack of cigarette after and he couldn’t think straight.

he was looking for what was his, you.

he step in the kitchen and saw you with your hair free, a little black dress, heels and red lipstick. Fuck his dick was hard just for staring at your ass for more than a minute, he sigh and with a smirk grab your arm and pull you.

“Simon?” you look at him confused, what he was doing?? “Simon let me go” you said as he pull you in a room, locking the door, close the curtains, he was drunk yeah, but he was always on alert.

then he grab a chair, drag it in the middle of his room and sat down, taking off his balaclava “we need to talk.” he said as he rest his elbows on his knees looking up at you as you stand before him.

“huh? what do you mean?” you ask with a frown look, did you did something? was he mad at you? what the fuck happened.

“i don’t want to discuss with you about our deal.” he said as he take a deep breath, you could tell that he was drunk. “what deal?” you ask.

“don’t fucking play it dumb y/n.” he said, his tone almost mad, you squeeze your tights together, why he turn you on so easily? he was mad and you where….fuck what a mess.

you gulped “i don’t get it.”

Why did you need to do this!? why you always play the fucking dumb card, why why why? He was mad, nervous as he see blurry and he really have a problem whit containing himself, he take off his t-shirt almost ripped it off, he need to cool down.

you gasped at the sight of him with only his uniform pants, tactic boots, bare chest. dog tags hanging from his neck and rest on his pecs, he let one of his hand run trough his blond and messy hair, biting his bottom lip, legs spread.

the things you are thinking rn….

“what a whore i am.” you thought as you sigh.

“you know how many women are chasing me? you know how many of those stops me on work to ask me for my fucking number huh?” he said mad, what the fuck is wrong with him? if he wanted to make you jealous, well now you are.

“and what is this supposed to mean?” you ask rising your eyebrow, resting your hands on your hips trying to don’t get mad as much as him, or even more.

“it mean that i can everyone that i want.” he hissed and you look at him with a puzzled look “wtf is wrong with you? you think that i don’t have many man chasing me around? that they don’t stare at me?” you say and he sigh.

“Fuck y/n.” he said sighing before grab your arm pull you over him so you sat on his lap, breast under his chin, tights on his hips, you wanted to pull away but he doesn’t let you.

“i want you, only you.” he said pressing his lips on your neck, and a moan escape from your mouth, you just couldn’t resist him, it was a rough fight with yourself.

you grind yourself on him, as he slam his lips on you, squeezing your round ass with his hand “is that so hhm?” he tease, slapping your rear and sneaking his hands under your dress.

you just want him as much he wants you, his hand in your hair as the other where under your dress. you moaned “fuck the others” he muttered “i don’t want to stay away from you one more minute.” he hissed on your mouth.

“don’t try to run away from me y/n, because i’il chasing you more than every other man will” he says in a possessive tone that makes your legs weak and your breath just heavier.

“I’m not running away” you moaned, why deny it anymore? He was all you need right now.

“good girl ya’ are” he murmur on your collarbone, he smirks sneaking a hand on your wet cunt and rub your folds trough the soft fabric of your underwear, you scratch his back as just a soft touch makes you insane.

he start to play with your panties then move it aside thumb rubbing on your puffy clit as he start to fucks you with two fingers, and your mind go all blank.

you where a messy puddle in his hands, you grind on his hand that was still moving to give you pleasure “yeah, good, want ya’ ta came all over ma’ fucking finger, understood?” he hissed on your neck.

“Si, i-i understand…” you moaned, you where glad that he did locked the door, if anyone of one of your squads catch you… it would be the end.

some minutes and you came on him, on his lap, such a good girl you were for him. You start to unbuckle his belt a metallic ‘thud, unbutton his uniform pants and unzip it.

“wait- wanna eat you” he murmur on your mouth but you shake your head, fuck there is no way that you are going to wait for him.

“no, please can’t resist anymore” you moaned “but-“ you shut him put your finger on his lips “we have all the night for that” you reassure him, he smirks as he free his dick from his boxer, now between your soft tights.

“take it like a good girl ya’ are, is all yours.” he said, and you didn’t let him repeat himself as you rub the head on your folds before push yourself down on his throbbing cock, he moaned satisfied, he was finally inside of you.

there was a moment where you need to wait to your walls being fully stretched, and when you start to rocking your hips back and forth Simon moaned loudly, again luckily outside of this door where a party with loud music.

he nibbled on your collarbone, squeezing your breast keeping you close, you where a goddess to him, fuck he was willing to get on his knees and beg you to break the deal if it was necessary.

he pull the dress down to suck on your nipple, he just wanted to smell you, to feel you.

“fuck, y/n” he said feeling your walls squeezing him in a deadly trap “i hate that i can’t resist you” you muttered moaning and panting.

“i’m so grateful that you can’t resist me sweetheart.” he said before make you stand up “but i need to give you a lesson.” he grinned before slam you on his desk on his paperwork, make you bend over, taking of your dress and throw it on the ground.

before, with a deep thrust stretching your walls once again, pounding in you roughly, making you scream his name and gripping the side of the desk.

“scream as loudly as possible, i’m the only one that could save you from myself.” he said before spank your ass, you rolled your eyes back into your skull.

“Simon— Fuck—“ you moaned feeling already the second orgasm building up in your lower body, one hand gripping your hip and the other grab your hair, pulling it and makes you look at him as he pound in your from behind.

dirty blond hair messy, pecs sweating, eyes full of lust as he licks his dry lips, you would let him do whatever he wants with you.

you screamed once again but he put the other hand on your mouth making you stay shut as you came on his fat cock once again, feeling your own juice dripping down your tights as he keep thrust in you.

spanking your ass and press your cheek against the cold wood desk making you stay still, he was rough and you where glad for it, finding someone that wasn’t afraid to surpass the line.

“fuck— i own ya’, did ya’ fucking hear me?” he hissed in your ear, you rolled your eyes in your skull once again, overwhelmed by all the feeling he was giving you.

you didn’t respond as you keep moaning, he spanks your ass leaving a big red mark that was getting only more red than before “ya’ fucking hear me!?” he said and you scream in pleasure once again before nodding “Si-si i’m yours.” you said feeling another orgasm building up.

your breath was irregular as you salivate on the desk clearly cock drunk.

“good girl” he said as he leave delicious spanks on your ass and bite on the back of your neck. Thrust in you harder than before as you came another time, fuck, you where so sensible when it comes to him.

you could hear him moaning and growling, gripping your hips more painfully than before and dropping himself on you, forehead on your shoulder as he release himself in you as his cock throb in your folds.

“take a little break, because i didn’t finish with ya’. Ya’ heard me?” he said with a smirk and you couldn’t help yourself, you kissed him, why didn’t you give up months ago?

[pugh-bug]

Flashing Lights Part 2

Part 1

This is part 2 of 2 but I might be starting an Art x reader slow burn friends to lovers series soon. Challengers (specifically Art) is all I wanna write for atm so expect more fics! I hope you enjoy this one, please leave me feedback it always means so much to hear any.

———————————————————————

Art’s gaze drifted to your joined hands and felt his confidence increase as he noticed the need in your eyes. Without saying a word, he brushed your hair behind your ear to gain access to your neck. You caught him inhaling your scent for a moment before the touch of his lips to your pulse halted anymore thoughts. You couldn’t help but hum appreciatively at his touch. Finally thee Art Donaldson was touching you and your heart beat was all the louder for it.

When his teeth reached your earlobe you closed your eyes, fully succumbing to the pleasure Art was giving you. His hair, so close to your nose, smelt faintly of strawberries and cigarettes. You didn’t mind in the slightest, in fact, as his lips edged closer to yours you caught yourself thinking: if this man wants to blow smoke into my mouth I’ll thank him.

‘Can I kiss you?’

You opened your eyes to see Art’s nose less than an inch from yours. He almost looked desperate for a moment, as the question hung in the air demanding a response. No man had ever asked you that before, except your first kiss a long time ago. It was such an innocent question from such a not innocent man. Your stomach fluttered as you made eye contact with Art’s hopeful face.

‘Please.’

Art barely gave you a moment to finish the last syllable, his soft lips were on yours in a second and his fingers to your jaw followed. He cradled your face in his hands as yours reached his soft curls, feeling the urge to pull.

The remaining pain in your foot became more and more distant as Art moved his body closer to yours. Whilst he was kissing you with forceful lust, his hands were delicately tracing your body. You melted into his touch, begging him in your head not to stop. Do not stop. Please don’t stop. He didn’t. His left hand couldn’t settle, whilst his right remained on your waist the left explored you as if looking for something. For a moment you wondered if he was waiting for consent so you broke the kiss to whisper ‘Art, you can touch me anywhere.’

His face, still close to your own, broke into a smirk as his hand reached under your dress. He teased you for a moment, his fingers just edging on slipping under your pants but not quite. You tried to hide the desperate need building in you but as Art’s eyes shone with glee you knew he was well aware of his hold on you.

‘Here?’

He slid his first finger inside your heat, the wetness making it easy for the both of you. Instinctively you moved your hips, not thinking straight. As his fingers explored you, Art kissed up your neck and bit down slowly. You sighed, it sounded heavenly to Art’s ears. He felt his dick straining in his pants and wondered how patient he could be if you kept making such pretty noises.

Once he’d inserted a second finger you began to rock your hips into his hand, begging him to give you more but too shy to say so. It didn’t take you long to lose your balance, causing Art to wrap his free arm reassuringly around your waist.

‘You can relax, I’ve got you.’

He was right. You could relax. You could arch your back into his touch without fear of falling backwards. It wouldn’t be the embarrassment that would bother you, just the loss of his skilful fingers inside where you needed him most. It had been so long since someone had touched you like this, you weren’t sure you could handle him stopping. Not for any reason.

When he finally added a third finger, your moan was pornographic. Art was almost surprised if not slightly impressed with himself for making such a girl feel this way. He watched you close your eyes, staring at the line of your neck and the way your hair fell as his fingers continued their torment. The man fell into a sort of trance, as if he could feel everything you were feeling just as intensely. Distracted, horny and in awe Art realised he wanted nothing more than to rip off your clothes and make you cum around him.

Just as you began to ride his fingers properly, Art removed his hand. You let out a slight groan at the sudden loss, opening your eyes to show your disapproval but Art’s focus was elsewhere. His hands were making work of removing your dress and your bra as quickly as possible. Wanting to help him, you unfastened your bra letting it fall off the edge of the bed.

Within seconds you were underneath Art and the only things between you were his trousers and your panties. Normally to be the only one so exposed would have had your brain swarming with negative thoughts but Art’s calloused yet gentle hands trace your curves was too good of a distraction.

Your body moved in tune with his hands movements and although you could have let him feel every inch of you for hours he was wearing far too many clothes. You needed him inside you, you needed to see all of him. Feel all of him.

‘Art…’

You didn’t need to ask, just your hands clawing at his shirt and fiddling with his belt was enough of a message. Squeezing your thighs together, still missing Art’s fingers, you helped him out of his pants. It pained Art to take his shirt off and miss looking at your eager face for even half a second. He was sure, as he watched you take his length in your hand, that he’d never been so hard for someone before.

You didn’t need to pump him for long before your hand felt the wetness of his pre cum reach your fingers. Just watching him had your thighs wet with your slick - the way his long eyelashes fluttered as he arched into your touch. The slight whimper he let out when you gently rubbed your thumb over his tip. Fuck. You’d never felt so turned on by pleasuring a man before in your life. You wanted to make him cum until he saw stars and forgot what even tennis was.

Art, becoming lost in bliss from your touch, still managed to flutter his eyes open and grab your hand.

“Wait…’

He warned quietly, watching you remove your hand from his desperate cock. There was an obvious, growing lust in his gaze. No one had ever looked at you with such intense need before, it was enough to instil a throbbing between your thighs.

Lying on top of you, Art slowly teased your folds with the head of his cock but he couldn’t wait any longer.

“Jesus…”

In perfect unison the two of you moaned at the feeling of his deliciously slow slide inside you. He bottomed out, giving you the moment to adjust that you needed and kissed up your chest to distract himself from the urge to fuck you as hard as he could.

“Art…please.”

He was too desperate to even grin at your begging and far too ready to tease either of you. So, more than happy to oblige, Art began fucking you as slowly as he could force himself to. It didn’t take long for either of you to moan into each others moans in-between sloppy kisses as he picked up the pace.

The sound of your wetness engulfing his length again and again and his whiney, breathy moans was turning you almost feral.

“You feel so fucking good…”

Art pulled your chest close to his and you sat up. In the new position he could thrust up into you while your tits bounced near his face. Just the sight of you, mouth open with messy makeup made Art groan. With one arm wrapped tightly around your waist guiding your body up and down, Art used his free hand to touch your lips. You tasted yourself on his fingers and hummed, not tearing your eyes away from his no matter how much they threatened to close.

“Y/N…”

You could barely respond as his relentless hips drove up into your heat. Once his hand slipped between the two of you to massage your clit any remaining composure you had was lost.

‘Does that feel good?’

You could barely answer. Instead of saying you nodded your head over and over.

‘Uhh humm!’

He grinned, loving nothing more than his actions rendering you non verbal. Suddenly, he increased the pace - you didn’t think he’d be able to but all those workouts were being put to good use. Your head was spinning, your orgasm beginning to grow closer. Art pulled your face closer to his with a strong hand at the back of your neck.

‘You gonna cum for me?’

His eyes were gleaming, his own orgasm on the horizon. You were so warm and tight around him, he never wanted the night to end.

‘Uh huhhmmm!’

You began to squirm in his arms, feeling the familiar tightness in your stomach and light headedness increase. Art’s movements began to grow suddenly more feverish, less rhythmic as he chased his own orgasm whilst desperate to bring you to yours.

Grabbing his shoulders for balance, your orgasm hit you hard and fast.

“Art!”

Your limbs tightened as you thrashed for a moment in Art’s warm embrace. Just as your eyes rolled into the back of your head - the pleasure overwhelming and wonderful all at once - Art reached his. His warm cum flooded your insides as he swore, knowing he’d never feel as good as he did right now.

Limp in his arms, you leant your head on Art’s shoulder unbothered by the sweat in your hair. Both of you could barely breathe for a few moments so you listened to the sounds of each others racing heart rates slow. You were the first to break the silence.

‘Fucking hell…’

Art chuckled, sliding out of you so you could more easily get off. His breathing hadn’t yet calmed down as he gently kissed your cheek, forehead and finally lips. It was much gentler than his previous kisses and your heart fluttered. It’s just a one off, you reminded yourself sadly.

‘I’m gonna go clean myself up okay?’

Art simply nodded in your direction as you hurried to the bathroom. When you returned he was lay on your bed, showing no signs of leaving.

‘Wanna stay the night?’ You asked, hopefully.

The two of you were asleep within the hour, not even your foot could disturb your dreams.

Masterlist

[yallthemwitches]

The Best Fun

Super silly, short fic for @jilytoberfest Day 6: Food disasters

Because we all know Sirius would be the one to experiment with muggle drugs~ AO3 link here!

“Prongs—don’t be angry.”

Peter stood with his back against the Fat Lady who screamed at him to be unhanded. His arms were outstretched but his face was riddled with absolute fear. 

“Can’t say I love hearing that from you, Wormy.”

If Peter had been sent to ward him off, that meant that the other two marauders must be shit deep in whatever laid beyond the portrait hole. Usually, the prospect of something to spice up his evening would perk his spirits, but tonight was a rare exception. 

He had been forced to do patrols with Chloe Sparrow due to the fact that she had been favoring her fellow Slytherins during her rounds. Although it had been his idea, it didn’t help that it took away precious time patrolling with Lily. Then, as he had come to find out, it also meant the night would be filled with a strange mixture of semi racist remarks and what James could only refer to as a grotesque version of flirting, ending in Chloe being sent back to her dorms before she could smack his arse another time. 

So in short, James’ bullshit threshold was reaching max capacity. 

“So—do you just want to tell me or do I need to pretend to struggle past you…”

Peter started to look visibly sweaty and backed off of the Fat Lady who, now free from her smothering, chirped insults under her breath. 

“Uhm. So before I say anything, you should know Lily wanted to, so—”

“Peter.” 

James was losing patience fast. He had expected the lads to have done something, sure, but Lily was a development he wasn’t ready for. From his tone alone, it all came tumbling out of Peter like a single word.

”Pads made some stuff.” 

“What kind of stuff?”

Peter’s eyes shifted. “Muggle stuff—said something about how that band,The Beagles or whatever, used it to—”

James walked up to his mate who jumped out of the way before he could even attempt to push through. 

Trudging through the portrait hole, Peter kept fast on his feet, babbling excuses like a mosquito hovering to feed.

“Again! She wanted to! Even helped a bit! Moony didn’t stop them!”

A voice drawled out from the center of the common room. “Thanks for ratting me out Wormy.” 

Remus laid reclined on the length of the couch, book in one hand while a cigarette hung from his lips. 

James took stock of the room. The only thing that looked remotely out of place was a tray of what looked like a dessert which had been ravenously attacked. A knife balanced on the baking tray. 

“So where are they?” 

Without any further elaboration Lupin tilted his head towards the fireplace and James took the two steps needed to get enough clearance to see over onto the ground. Lily was curled up in a ball, eyes closed and head resting on the stomach of a giant black dog, both completely asleep.

“Explain.” He used his head boy voice, but Remus only laughed. 

“Sirius thought it would be a scream to make pot brownies—should have seen them about an hour ago—never seen two people hug and dance around so much in my life.”

Peter, who was still standing at the entrance of the portrait hole, pipped up in a quivering voice. “It was quite nice actually—Lily was so affectionate and—”

“And you didn’t call me? Didn’t think that I wanted to come try muggle drug food too?”

James looked down at his sleeping girlfriend who buried her nose into Sirius’ stomach, hands curling around the fur, blissfully unaware that the animal she was laying on could be anything other than a dog. 

“You all knew I’ve always wanted to do this, Moony! Honestly, I’m hurt!”

“Sorry mate, it just happened.”

James crouched down next to Lily’s sleeping form, brushing some of her hair from her face. At his touch, her eyes blinked open, a brilliant glassy green, slightly bloodshot, looked up at him.

“Oh Baby! You’re back!” She lifted up and threw her arms around his neck, nuzzling her nose into his collar. 

“Oh I just love you! Wow, you smell so good!” 

Every word from her mouth sounded breathy and light, like the world was one big cloud with her on it. From behind him, Peter muttered: “See? I quite like her stoned” and Lupin just snorted in response.

“Have you met this dog? I love this dog.” She turned to wrap her arms back around a still sleeping Sirius, but James caught her, pulling her back into him. 

“I have met the dog—that's ok, we can leave him alone now.” James cradled her to his chest and she melted into him, completely forgetting Sirius despite her comment seconds ago.

“I can see you had some fun tonight.” 

She didn’t respond, rather looking up into his eyes before bursting into a laugh, grabbing both sides of his face and smashing their foreheads together. 

“Brilliant fun. The best fun. But not as fun as you. I missed you.”

It was hard to feel upset about that. James scooped under her legs and carried her like a child over to the staircase which led up to the dorms. Laughter tumbled out of her mouth before becoming preoccupied with kissing his neck in quick, frantic pecks. 

“I’m going to get her to bed before she decides she loves someone else—” Lily just squealed, wrapping her hands tighter around his neck in an attempt to get him to kiss her.

“If Sirius wakes up, tell him I’ll give him a running head start in the morning before I beat the shit out of him–.”

Remus didn’t look up from his book, eyebrows raised.

“Awfully kind of you Prongs.”

James started to climb the steps, Lily alternating between laughter and proclamations of love.

“Well–It’s the least I could do to repay him.”

[chefkids]

It's clear that Carmy can be with Claire after he fixes stuff with Donna. He sees her stuff in the basement the same way he saw Claire's pic there. We know they shot him bringing the box to her. Calo even said you have to fix the parent stuff before you can be in a relationship. The fact is, they don't hide much. The trailer showed everything that happened AS IT HAPPENED. The contract S talked to P about was the contract. Ice Chips WAS about ice chips. We have to take them literally. It's time.

Can Carmy be with Claire after he settles his childhood trauma? Sure.

Does he actually want to be with her? No.

He didn't want to go out with her in the first place so he gave her a fake number. He didn't want to hang out with her until she guilted him and brought up her dead cousin. He didn't want to call her his girlfriend until Sydney made him feel bad about it. He didn't want to tell her he loves her and the only time he even said it was to Fak when he posed it as a leading question. He didn't want to spend time with her after he promised to make Sydney his priority and only went to see her after being guilted by Richie. He has only ever done anything for Claire because other people have told him to, including herself who guilted him to cook for her. He hasn't apologized to Claire because he does not want to be forced to prioritize being in a relationship with her again if he fixes things.

Sydney has always been his choice out of his own volition from the start. He kept her around when everyone at The Beef did not like her. His mind brought her back in a middle of panic attack about Claire because he wants to choose her. No one told him to make her a Thom Browne jacket. No one pushed him to try and get her a star even though he doesn't want one. No one has ever told him to try to be better for Sydney or to choose her. He keeps trying to do all that on his own because she is his choice.

Claire leaving him was not a wake up call to be better and face all his emotional baggage with his mom. His own brother dying and his sister pushing him wasn't even what made him want to start getting better. He only started trying to address his issues and going to Al-anon meetings after he met Sydney, because she saw the good in him and realized he does want to be good, as a person not just a Chef, for her.

That's what his whole talk about amusement and enjoyment was about. That's what the legacy talk was about too. Fixing things in his life in order to make something good out of The Bear, for her, because he does not want to do this without her. Sydney possibly leaving him is his wake up call to settle the things in his life with Donna and Claire so he can fully focus on Sydney and The Bear, because he cares about losing Sydney a lot more than he has cared about losing Claire or his mom.

Putting Claire in the freezer and the garde manger was intentional. Putting Sydney with fire was intentional. Claire being backwards and Sydney being forward was intentional. Making Claire Sydney's pasta was intentional. Taking Claire to the post office, like UPS, was intentional. Having Claire be his cigarette addiction that he quit once he left her was intentional.

If you want to take everything that is said literally at its most basic form and think Claire is Carmy's peace and that he loves her because the Fak's said so and not bother to acknowledge everything else going into the show, go ahead. Be a Fak.

But Carmy fixing things with Donna and Claire does not equal him being with Claire in the end. They are just the steps he knows he needs to take before focusing on what matters to him.

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Jim Hopper x reader • Part two of a series; read part one here • Includes unprotected sex, angst, age gap, piss is briefly mentioned as reader has a big ol squirt yee haw 💦 dubcon due to Hopper being under the influence of magick✨

The ethics of love spells have always been debated amongst witches, with the majority agreeing that any spell which alters another’s free will is morally wrong. But when you returned home to Hawkins from college on break, you made the decision to cast such a spell on your old crush, Chief Jim Hopper. Since briefly meeting you again after your return home, Hopper has fallen more deeply in love and lust with you every day. As the results of your spell reveal themselves, will you be able to accept their consequences…?

꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱

( Tuesday morning )

The rain pelting Hopper’s windshield forced him out of his trance. How long had he been sitting behind the wheel of his Blazer, parked in his usual space in front of the station, completely lost in thoughts of you?

This new pattern of behavior was completely unlike him, Hopper conceded. He’d been unable to shake a rapidly growing obsession with you. And the worst thing about it wasn’t the fact that for the first time in years, Hopper was actually losing control over a woman. The part of the situation that truly set Hopper’s conscience on fire was that the object of his lust happened to be half his age…and his best friend’s daughter…

Hopper hoped that by focusing on business-as-usual at the station, he’d be able to free his mind of you for awhile. He put out his cigarette that was burning down, and reached into his pocket to exchange it for a new one. Hopper’s eyes caught the form of someone standing on the far side of the station. He squinted through the raindrops peppering his windshield, focusing…on you.

The moment Hopper realized who he was looking at, he practically tore the door open to exit his vehicle. He didn’t remember to close it behind him, unaware that he’d also left his keys in the ignition. Hopper’s gait quickened till he was so close he could see the way your lips began to turn in a coy smile. And then, as quickly as you’d appeared…the image of you was gone.

Hopper stopped dead in his tracks, as if coming out from under a spell. His sudden burst of exertion caught up with him, breath huffing from his parted lips, his eyes wide and darting back and forth around the space you’d just been standing.

He blinked several times, rain dancing off his eyelashes, dripping from the brim of his hat. A grim realization swept over Hopper, words materializing in his mind in a voice that sounded like yours: “It’s too late, Jim. I’m inside you now. You have to have me…”

Hopper’s steps faltered as he made his way back to his vehicle. He removed his keys before distractedly closing the door and heading for the station’s entrance. Was he losing his mind? The image of you had been so…real.

As he entered the station, Hopper tried to focus on the strong scent of fresh coffee that greeted him. He removed his rain-soaked jacket and hat, nodding a polite but insincere greeting to officers Powell and Callahan as he passed them on the way to his office. Hopper turned the corner and closed the office door behind him, locking it immediately. He felt a small sense of comfort at being separated from the others. Hopper wanted to be alone right now, more than anything. He needed privacy, a chance to contemplate his options and formulate a plan of action. Because for all his failed attempts at resistance, Hopper was a beaten man. And he was ready to admit it.

Nothing in the world mattered anymore, he realized, besides having you. Hopper sat behind his desk and poured himself a shot of whiskey from the bottle he kept locked in the bottom drawer. With a cigarette alternating between his lips and fingers, Hopper allowed his mind to wander. And inevitably, it wandered to images of you, pornographic images that normally, Hopper would have made at least some attempt to resist.

But now, he realized such efforts were pointless. Whatever sense of willpower Hopper had was useless against the spell your body had over him. And as usual, Hopper’s own body responded quickly to the stimulation of the filthy scenes his mind was weaving. He slouched back in his chair, undoing his belt so automatically that he wasn’t even aware he had till his cock was inside his fist. Hopper’s eyes fluttered closed as he allowed himself to succumb fully, without reservation, to the fantasy of you. Because unlike all the times he’d done this before, it wasn’t going to be a fantasy much longer. Hopper was determined to make having you a reality…and soon.

His thoughts drifted to that evening a little over a week ago. The first time he’d seen you, this new version of you, a woman now, who bore no resemblance to the clumsy teenager you’d been in Hopper’s memory. He’d immediately felt an attraction to you, and how could he not? Everything about you was perfect in Hopper’s eyes, the way your body moved around the room, your soft laughter which stirred something deep inside Hopper, waking a yearning he hadn’t experienced in a long time…and your smile…fuck, that smile…the one that had Hopper’s cynical heart beating with wonder again, rattling the dust off the joy inside him that had been buried for decades…

He’d known it then, the moment he’d seen you: Hopper was in love with you. Throughout the following week, his feelings for you had only grown stronger. Fantasies of your sweetness, and the corruption of it, permeated Hopper’s every waking thought. You even followed him into his dreams, fulfilling Hopper’s desires even as he slept. He’d wake up in the night drenched in sweat, his hard cock throbbing against his stomach. Hopper would come seconds later, watching himself ejaculate almost in a state of trance, still half asleep. Hopper would lay panting for awhile, his stomach wet and sticky with his own release, before wiping himself clean and having a cigarette. After about fifteen minutes of remorse and post-nut clarity, Hopper would have himself (nearly) convinced that his dreams were just that, and not a reflection of how he truly felt. But when he woke up hours later with his usual morning wood, Hopper needed to take care of it. And with his mind fully rested, his thoughts inevitably turned back to you…

The sounds of people talking outside Hopper’s office faded, while his thoughts grew louder…and filthier. As he languidly pumped his cock back and forth in his fist, Hopper allowed himself to indulge perhaps his most taboo fantasy of all…

In his mind, you were there in Hopper’s office with him, bound and gagged beneath his desk. Your wrists were restrained by Hopper’s handcuffs, your mouth full of him. He was throat training you, his cock nestled on the wet bed of your tongue. Your eyes were trained on Hopper’s as he gazed down at you knelt between his knees. He cupped your face in his hand, stroking the pad of his thumb along your cheek.

You’d been at this for awhile now; Hopper knew you must be tired. But like any new pet, you needed to be trained; and by training your throat to fit him, you’d be able to take Hopper as deeply as he wanted, whenever he wanted-

A knock on Hopper’s office door startled him. His eyes flew open, and with a strained, husky voice, he snapped “-WHAT?”

“Chief?” Flo responded. “Someone’s here to see you.”

Hopper rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath. Just what he needed right now, with his pants down and his dick in his hand. A goddamn visitor.

“Well tell them I’m busy,” Hopper growled. “Whatever it is-whoever it is-they can wait…”

There was a pause from behind the door. “…She’s really adamant, Hop,” Flo added, her voice a bit more assertive. “Pretty little thing; Sounds like she might be in some kind of trouble.”

Hopper sighed heavily, irritated further by the realization that Flo was not going to send this girl away. He rose from his desk, frustratedly shoving his chair out from behind him. Hopper tucked his dick away in his pants as best as he could, but his erection was still very obvious. He swiped a folder from his desk and held it in front of his groin as he made his way to the door, pulling it open more aggressively than he needed to.

The woman standing beside Flo took Hopper’s breath away…just as she had a little over a week ago, and every day since.

“Hello, Jim,” you said, smiling up at Hopper warmly. He felt his knees tremble, a blush washing over his cheeks. Embarrassed by his uncharacteristic display of vulnerability, Hopper cleared his throat and attempted to compose himself. “Uh…hey, (y/n),” he said, his voice wavering, and then to Flo, “thanks, I’ve got her.” Flo nodded, and turned back down the hall.

Hopper wet his lips, as they’d suddenly gone dry. You cocked an eyebrow at him, playfully pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “…Aren’t you gonna invite me in?” you asked, breaking the awkward silence Hopper’s staring at you had created.

“Oh, sorry-yeah,” Hopper stammered, stepping aside to let you pass through the doorway. “Please, come inside.”

He noticed as you lingered in the doorway, and when he closed it, how your hand slipped behind his to press the lock in. Hopper didn’t question why you’d locked the door, because somehow…he already knew.

“Flo said you-.” Hopper swallowed as you sat down in the chair in front of his desk, casually spreading your legs and draping one over an arm of the chair like it was nothing, your eyes never leaving Hopper’s. “-You-uh…” His eyes drank in every inch of you. “…You have a problem of some kind?” he finished, averting his gaze to his desk.

“Look at me,” you ordered, and Hopper did. You were leaning forward in the chair now, an intensity in your expression that had been absent before. “That’s better,” you grinned, and leaned back slightly. “And yes, Jim, I do have a problem.”

Hopper nodded, his lips parted in anticipation, beads of sweat forming along his hairline. “…I can help,” he breathed, his voice faltering again. “Just, tell me how, and I will…anything…”

Hopper realized the folder was still in his hand, but he no longer needed it, seated behind his desk. He was still rock hard inside his pants, even more so now due to your presence. You watched as he placed the folder on his desk, knowing exactly what he’d been using it to conceal…

“Jim,” you began. “It’s a personal problem I’ve come to see you about…do you understand?”

Hopper nodded, although in truth, he had no clue why you’d shown up at the station today.

“I need you to help me with my…” You glanced away for a brief moment, almost bashfully. “Impatience,” you finished. Hopper frowned slightly, confused. “Because,” you continued. “I was going to wait for you to come back to my house and fuck me-.”

Hopper’s chest dropped as all the air in his lungs left him at once.

“-But I got impatient,” you concluded. “And I realize, impatience is a flaw in my character. I’d like your advice on how to improve it…” Hopper’s jaw tensed; he wasn’t sure what he was hearing, or where the line between reality and his own fantasies ended. Had you really just said those words to him?

“Since you’re…you know-,” you shrugged. “Older, I figured you must be wiser, too. And I also figured, you could teach me some things.”

Hopper’s confused expression deepened slightly. “You…need someone older?” he asked tentatively, choosing his words carefully, as he wasn’t sure if any of this was happening at all. “To teach you…” Hopper cleared his throat again. “…Things?”

“Mm-hmm,” you replied. “And one of them is patience.” You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. Hopper’s eyes slid between your now partially-exposed breasts.

“One of them?” he asked. “What are the other things?”

You hooked a finger beneath the front of your shirt and pulled it down, allowing your breasts to spill out over the fabric. Hopper’s eyebrows lifted, his lips pressed together in a hard line, his nostrils flared slightly. His entire body was tensed, hands clenched into fists, his heels digging into the floor.

Your eyes were glossy, wide, innocent, even as your nakedness was fully on display. “Can you help me, Jim?” you asked sweetly, rising to your feet. You placed your palms against Hopper’s desk, leaning over it, allowing your breasts to linger mere inches from his face. “…Please?”

Hopper was moving purely on instinct at this point. Whether this was a dream, reality, or some combination of the two, he was no longer in control of his actions. Hopper stood up, bumping the prominent erection in his pants on the underside of his desk. He grunted at the discomfort and his own awkwardness, but quickly forgot about both as soon as his lips met yours.

Hopper pulled your body into him, lifting you slightly and wrapping your legs around his thigh. You curved your hips upward, grinding gently against him, savoring the way he grunted in pleasure as you humped his thigh. “God you’re so fucking beautiful,” Hopper murmured against your lips, in between kisses. “I’ve been-mmm-I’ve wanted this ever since you came home-.”

You bit down slightly on Hopper’s lip, shushing him. “I know,” you said, sucking at the mark your teeth had made in his skin. “So show me everything you’ve dreamed of doing to me, Jim.” You slipped your tongue between his lips, then pulled away for a moment. “Show me all the ways you’ve wanted to fuck me…”

Hopper took you by your shoulders, and guided you onto your knees. “Think I want that pretty mouth first,” he said. “Since it’s being so cocky today, maybe it should have a cock in it…”

You smiled widely, going to your knees obediently before Hopper. He removed his cock from his pants and smacked his tip against your lips, slicking them with precum. “You look even better on your knees than I imagined you would,” Hopper murmured. He rubbed his tip along your lips, spreading them apart, smearing his precum between them. It tasted sweet and mildly salty on your tongue as you curved it against the underside of Hopper’s cock.

He gently held your head in place while guiding himself between your lips. Hopper groaned as you enveloped him, the moist warmth of your cheeks cushioning his shaft as he used your mouth to stroke himself. “Fuck, you fit me like a glove, kid,” Hopper groaned. His fingernails dug lightly into your scalp as he pressed his cock deeper, stretching your throat. “That’s my girl, takin’ it just like a bitch, like you were made for it…” Hopper’s degrading words tugged at your core, had your clit beginning to throb. You gurgled and choked on Hopper’s cock with every thrust, your gag reflex activating every time his fat tip prodded the back of your throat.

Hopper moaned, his hips faltering. “Shit,” he cursed. “You’re getting me too close, baby, ‘an I’m not done with you yet-.” He lifted you by the shoulders and tossed you onto his desk, spreading your legs and burying his face between them. The shock of Hopper’s lips immediately honing in on your clit had you reeling, your thighs shaking as Hopper suckled your plump, sensitive bud and made out with your pussy in wet, sloppy kisses. He slipped his tongue between your labia, swirling your slick between your lips before penetrating you with his tongue. Hopper lapped at your pussy, the texture of his tongue soft, but its muscle rigid as he stiffened it to fuck into you.

You came on Hopper’s tongue, your thighs draped over his shoulders, his face covered in your slippery release as a mix of cum and piss expelled from within you and saturated Hopper’s beard and neck. He rose from between your thighs, his face dripping with you, hair messy and sprinkled with stray drops of your cum. Hopper mounted you, splayed and helpless on his desk, and entered you in one abrupt, brutal thrust. He grit his teeth and groaned from behind them, your soft whimpers making it all the more difficult for him not to immediately empty himself inside you. The squeeze of your cunt was like a warm, welcoming vice, the sweetest kind of death a man could ever ask for, to be crushed between the sopping grip of your tight, firm walls.

The next five minutes were a white-hot blur for both you and Hopper, a mix of teeth and tongues on skin and his cock punching places inside you that didn’t seem anatomically possible. Hopper’s breath grew shorter and his pace more frenetic the closer he came to climax. He started to pull out as he felt the beginning of what would likely be the most intense orgasm he’d ever had. But you squeezed your thighs around his waist, forcing him deeper, and with a firm, aggressive voice, ordered “NO.”

Hopper was so close, and you were so certain, so insistent, that he could hardly resist the temptation to fill you up. And next words that left your lips in a pretty, breathless request, were so sweet, so soft, Hopper felt his already weak defenses fall completely… “Come inside me, Jim…please…”

There it was, Hopper’s favorite part of every fantasy he’d had about you. The part where you begged for his cum. At that point, no amount of common sense or rational judgment would have convinced Hopper not to paint your guts in his cum. Growling against your shoulder, Hopper pumped three final thrusts inside you, emptying his load between your plush, puffy walls.

His thighs were shaking, his whole body trembling over yours. The sound of voices murmuring from beyond Hopper’s office began to fade into his awareness, and he realized that everyone in the station must have heard what the two of you were doing. A dull panic began to settle in Hopper’s stomach. Hawkins was a small town; rumors spread quickly here. And gossip about the famously-promiscuous Chief of Police were especially salacious in the townsfolk’s minds. As the weight of Hopper’s actions began to settle over him, he suddenly felt…ashamed.

Hopper abruptly pulled out of you, and reached for a box of tissues nearby. You watched him remove a few and hurriedly clean the cum off his dick, as best he could anyway. He wadded the tissues into a ball and dropped them into a waste bin, a grim expression his face.

“What’s wrong, Jim?” you asked, noting how he kept glancing at the door. The voices murmuring outside his office had turned to whispers…sharp, judging whispers, and Hopper began to fear the worst. He looked back at you, and realized with a bitter remorse that he’d very possibly just ruined his entire career. “Get out,” Hopper said flatly, and you balked at his callous tone.

“Are you fucking serious?” you asked, closing your legs and sliding off his desk. Hopper shook his head at you, the effects of your charms beginning to fade. Angry, defiant, you stood directly in front of him, forcing him to look at you. Hopper stepped back, fixing his clothes and still shaking his head as if wishing to rid himself of a poison. “That’s not gonna work,” he insisted, his voice hollow. “Whatever that is-this fucking hold you’ve have over me-it’s done…I can’t do this…”

You rushed for him, tears burning your eyes but Hopper grabbed you by the wrists before you could strike him. “Get…out,” he glared down at you. “And think about what we’ve done…about what this means for both of us…”

You spat at Hopper’s face, but he didn’t react. When he released your wrists, you made a quick exit for the door, a dangerous rage boiling inside your gut.

As soon as you opened the door, several pairs of eyes met yours. Practically everyone at the station was crowded into the hallway outside Hopper’s office, quickly scattering when they saw you. Your cheeks burned pink with embarrassment… You’d gotten what you wanted, but at a price. If even one of those people spread word about what had happened, the results could be catastrophic for your reputation, for Hopper’s career, and maybe most of all, you feared that a friendship your dad valued so much, would be ruined…

Bowing your head in shame, you quickly walked through the station, grateful for the cold rain that hit your face when you made it outside. The spell was completed; the fun was over. And now, you were left picking up the pieces your selfish game had left in its wake, the potential heartache you’d unleashed. Maybe you had learned a lesson in patience, after all…that rather than use magick to bend someone’s desire toward you, it was better to wait for love to find you, organically. Regardless, the damage was now done.

You climbed inside your car and turned on the radio, trying to lose yourself in the words and melody playing. Part of you wanted to pull onto the highway and leave Hawkins behind forever, to rid yourself of the burden of seeing your father’s face when he heard what his daughter and a man he thought he could trust had done.

You backed out of the station’s parking lot and pulled onto the main road through downtown. On the way to your house, you decided that you’d have to see Hopper again, to admit that you’d used him, that he’d been tricked. But what you didn’t know, was that for all your efforts, the spell hadn’t worked…at least, not in a literal sense. Jim Hopper had been captivated by you, enchanted, obsessed…and in spite of his hateful behavior back in his office, he still was. You were good at deception, it seems, but not so good at spell craft. Hopper was in love with you. And it would take more than a scandal big enough to turn all of Hawkins on its head to change that…

────────────────

@mrshopper84 🩷

[crusty-chronicles]

Airheaded S/O Headcannons: #6 Sebastian (Black Butler)

An: Literally the hardest part is finding a decently sized picture for him. We will now continue with our regularly scheduled program.

He finds your stupidity incredibly amusing

That being said, you're either his most or least favorite servant

Depends on the time of day honestly

You break more dishes than Mey-Rin

You explode the kitchen more often than Baldroy

You destroy the garden worse than Finny

But what kind of butler would he be if he couldn't deal with one completely incompetent person?

So after making the mistake of letting you complete a task by yourself the first few times, he now watches over you for any potential disasters.

He's your shadow until you can prove to him you're not so stupid after all.

And that's where you pique his interest. (Well appeal to his amusement that is)

You cut yourself trying to prepare the Young Master a snack?

"What a clumsy little thing you are," he says as he puts a small band aid on your finger.

You need to deliver some documents to Ciel but forgot which room is his?

"Right this way, you've kept the Young Lord waiting long enough with your forgetfulness," he coos and leads you to his room.

What's that? You fell onto the dining table and broke it along with the set of dishes?

"A shame. Those were newly imported. So be it, as long as you didn't hurt yourself too bad." And he precedes to check you over for major injuries.

Not because he cares, but because a Phantomhive servant must always be in top condition.

More often than not, he's stifling a laugh behind his hand at your antics

You accidentally used salt instead of sugar for Ciel's tea?

He's trying so hard not to break as the young boy spits his drink and starts coughing.

Guest are being rude?

You tell them they reek of alcohol and cigarettes, and he's hiding a smile behind his gloved hand.

You lost the keys to the manor and broke the door to get in?

He's cooing down at you and ties a spare to your uniform.

It becomes a game to him to see how many times he can get your small brain to short-circuit

Whether it's telling you about where the new imports are from or today's menu, he finds immense joy seeing your face go blank.

His record is 7 times in two minutes

While Sebastian's opinion of you varies, it's very clear you're Ciel's favorite servant.

Why????

Because you're the only one who manages to catch Sebastian off guard.

The demon who's prepared for anything and everything, who almost never breaks his composure, dumbfounded by a human who can't even enter a carriage without falling or breaking it.

If Ciel's ever mad at Sebastian, he'll punish him by pairing the two of you up for chores.

And Sebastian absolutely hates it because he won't get anything done.

There is a plus side to this though. It means convincing Ciel to let you come on missions is easier.

He just can't stand being away from his favorite form of entertainment, after all.

Speaking of missions 👀👀👀

You're an absolute titan, and while Sebastian was well aware you're Finny's sibling, he's still impressed by your strength.

It's not just you hurling statues or whole carriages at enemies.

It's the fact that after taking multiple gunshots to your torso, while bleeding profusely, you pick up Ciel and manage to toss him Sebastian's way with ease.

Like you weren't seriously injured

You just kept trucking on, as if you weren't bleeding out.

Sebastian eventually has to step in before you die, despite your protests that you could keep going.

"Let's treat those wounds, shall we? It'd be a shame for the Young Master to lose his favorite servant to such a trivial cause." Ciel was part of the reason he saved you, but not the true reason.

Because the truth, the real reason was a little more sinister.

Sebastian would just hate for his precious toy to be broken so soon.

So he decides to keep you at the manor for the time being. At least until you take your life a little more seriously.

Such a delicious soul shouldn't be thrown away that easily.

He won't see you in a romantic light for a long time. But that doesn't stop him from toying with you.

A huge fan of whispering naughty things in your ear and seeing you not processing it at all.

Just your face going blank and a, "I don't think that's very practical, but to each their own I guess."

And it's so funny to him because most women (and let's be real, men) would be flustered beyond belief.

But for you it goes in one ear and out the other.

He also appreciates how you pay his appearance no mind

You're not fumbling over words or getting all blushy when he's near

You simply don't care or don't notice his attempts to get a rise out of you.

And that makes him only want your attention even more.

He realizes he likes you a little more than he should during the Jack the Ripper incident.

Ciel let you tag along to confront his aunt because, "You're the most incompetent, yet capable servant." As he puts it.

Grell went in for a nasty blow with his death scythe, one that Sebastian wouldn't be able to avoid in full.

And in you came, shoving him out of the way and getting your side sawed through. In what only could be called a display of strength, you grabbed the blade of the chainsaw and pulled the reaper close to you, then socked her straight in her jaw, sending Grell flying.

He was very impressed that a human of all creatures was capable of such feats.

Then Sebastian was upset.

So very upset that this reaper had damaged his plaything.

He fights with the intent to kill until the whole ordeal is called off by Ciel.

While you're getting patched up back at the estate is when he decides your his.

Sebastian is a demon after all, and a very cruel one at that.

His first step in courting you is tricking you into a contract. (Which would not be hard to do at all)

He'll take you to the manor's garden and get down on a knee, as if he planned to confess.

"My dearest pet," he'd start off with his eyes already flashing their demonic color.

"It brings me immense pain to see you injured so often on the Queen's little excursions. If you would agree to let me stay by your side, I would protect you from any and all harm."

"All you need do is call my name and I shall be there. What I ask in return is you. Your mind. Your body. Your soul. Will you accept?"

He watches eagerly as the cogs turn in your head.

"Mmmm, no"

And he's 👁️👄👁️

Because what did you say??????

Out of all the humans, you, you say no????

He reaches for you before you leave.

"May I ask why?" Because he, Sebastian, the most sought out man, was being turned down by the one being he actually wanted.

" Because I want to be the one that protects you. It's not fair to add even more weight to your shoulders." You answer.

And after taking a moment to process, Sebastian is laughing.

Oh you precious, precious fool.

It's decided then, he doesn't want your soul. Oh no, he plans to keep you for all of eternity.

So long as you always keep him on his toes

He let's you decide the terms of this arrangement, knowing full well you have no clue what you just agreed to

He places his mark directly over your heart.

It's less obvious than Ciel's, but still enough to show that your fate's forever intertwined with his.

There are only ever two things he calls you: fool and pet.

Fool because, well, your a huge idiot always getting into trouble.

And pet because that's exactly what you are to him.

His precious pet that he'll keep safe for the time being. (I reiterate, he's a demon demon)

Sebastian isn't very affectionate, but there are times he's feeling soft and wants to kiss your forehead. Usually to wake you for the day.

Holding your hand to guide you is another one of his favorites. You're just so cute when you don't know where you're going.

Sebastian doesn't get jealous because what reason does he have to worry you'll leave him.

He is one hell of a lover, you know?

On the other hand, he gets a smidge territorial if a reaper or angel is near you.

They aren't mortal and have the power to end you on the spot.

But he'd never let that happen.

He honestly can't tell if you know he's a demon or not.

It's not like he hides it very well around you, but you're very slow to pick up on things.

Nevertheless, you're his until the day you die and beyond.

His foolish little human.

NEXT UP: Jinx (Arcane)

MASTERLIST

[barefoothighlander]

hiiii i love your work so much and i was wondering if you could please do something angsty where the reader is dating ghost and on the team and something goes wrong? like to the point where they are MIA and presumed dead for months? but they are found and ghost is so relieved and can’t believe that they’re alive (can be female reader or gender neutral i don’t mind 💛)

been in my feels recently so here’s some ghost angst

warnings: violence, grief, mentions of death, small mention of scars & blood, mentions of ptsd, smoking, gn pronouns (reader call sign is fox)

“Where are they?” Ghost bursts into Prices office

“Soap got back 10 minutes ago”

“And what about Fox, are they back?”

“Not yet”

“Not yet? Did they call in?”

“Comms fell through half an hour ago”

“So they’re out there blind?”

Price huffs a breath, nodding to Ghost, his face drops, you had been on a recon with Soap and it was going well until the two of you got ambushed and had to call for evac, Soap made it to the rendezvous point where the heli was waiting but you weren’t there, the enemies swarmed the checkpoint, you made the call for them to leave you.

Ghost loomed around base for hours, waiting, changing the channel on his comms every minute to see if you were talking, but it was radio silent.

“Let me go find them”

“Absolutely not Simon, there’s hostile everywhere I’m not sending you out to get killed”

“With all due respect Captain, it’s not your call”

“If you leave this base I will have you sent home son, the best we can do is wait”

Ghost stands still, his eyes staring down Price silently begging him to let him leave, but Price stays stern. He walks to the deck, standing outside the base his his back against the wall, reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket and lighting one.

He stands outside for hours, willing you to appear, to be safe, walking towards him with open arms, but his view is clear. No one on deck, no vehicles pulling in, there’s nothing.

Two months pass, two months of silence, Price had called the mission to an end two weeks after you were declared MIA, Ghost went back to an empty home. Everything was too quiet without you there, the bright lights of the house dimmed without your presence, Simon felt everything slipping away again.

He’d never prepared himself for the day he’d lose you, he’d lost everyone, everything, the pain of living without you didn’t even compare to that of losing his family, he felt like someone had reached into his chest and ripped his heart out. He barely slept, staying awake every night praying you’d walk through the door, when he did sleep he dreamt of you, your face resting on the pillow just inches from his, he dreamt of just holding you.

The scent of your soap still lingered on some old clothes, he’d sometimes grab a shirt and just hold it to his skin, imagining it was you there in front of him instead of a piece of cloth.

Within the second month he had cut all contact with the team, ignoring their calls and texts, he didn’t care for their words of encouragement or condolences, none of it made up for the fact that you weren’t there.

He felt guilty, he couldn’t save you, he blamed himself thinking about how he should’ve been there, he shouldn’t protected you just like he’d done in missions before. He blamed Soap for leaving without you, even if it was your call, he would’ve never left you behind no matter the circumstances.

It was all too much, he didn’t have enough time with you, an eternity still would’ve been too short, everything in him ached and longed for you, he just wanted one more moment, one more time he could tell you how much you meant to him, how much he loved you.

He refused to pack your things, not out of denial but because he refused to let you be forgotten, wherever you were, you’d be with him forever. He always made your side of the bed, he kept all your mugs next to his just like you’d done years before, everything in his life still looked as if you were with him.

His hope dwindled with each day, every night you were gone was just a higher chance of you never coming home to him, he checked in with base every morning to see if there was any news, everyday was the same, you hadn’t shown up.

72 days had gone by since you went missing, presumed dead but they hadn’t identified your body, at 4am Simon was standing on the porch smoking a cigarette when the ring of his phone echoed through the house, he assumed it was some call in for an op, begrudgingly dragging himself back inside to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Is this Simon?”

“Who’s asking?”

“I’m with the Bayfield Emergency Hospital, we have a patient asking for you”

His heart dropped through his chest, he hung up his phone and rushed to his car, he was acting purely on adrenaline, every fibre of his being hoping it was you they found, that he wouldn’t arrive to someone else laying in a cot.

He’s speeding through the dark night, eyes darting around to check for police officers, there was nothing in the world that could stop him from getting to the hospital.

He pulls into the parking lot and rushes through the large glass doors,

“Where are they?”

“Who Sir?”

“The one that asked for Simon, where are they?”

“I need your full name”

“I- I can’t, please just tell me where they are”

“Sir I can’t let you in without the paperwork”

He slams his fists to the desk, “Please”

He sees two security guards from the corner of his, he retracts his palms stepping back, tears pricking his eyes as heat flushes his skin,

“Is he here yet?” A doctor asked, stepping through a sliding door

“Are you fox’s doctor?”

“Who are you”

“I’m Simon, are they in there”

The doctor looks hesitantly towards the nurse, “come with me”

His ears a ringing, the fluorescent lights above his head feel blinding as he makes his way through the series of hallways.

“They’re okay, a little banged up, it’s their mental state we’re worried about”

Simon looks through the small window on the door, you’re laying in the bed, your arms strapped to your sides.

“You can go in”

Simon takes a breath, nodding to the doctor before opening the door, he can see you better now, there’s cuts and bruises scattering your legs, dried blood on your skin all the way up to your neck, your face is flush, stained with tears.

“Fox?”

You turn your attention to him, shaking your head “No, no please, go away”

He moves towards you slowly, like a wounded animal as you thrash against your restraints, tears streaming down your face.

“Fox it’s me”

“Please, just let me go”

His hand ghosts over your arm and you flinch from the contact, Ghost turns to glance at the door before he takes his mask off, turning back to you.

“It’s me love, no one’s gonna hurt you”

“You’re not real”

He thinks for a moment, his fingers moving to undo one of your restraints as he kneels by your side, he lifts your hand to touch his face, your fingers trace over his scars.

“It’s me”

You let out a sob, Simon reaches to undo your other arm and pulls you into him, muffling your cries with his chest as he holds you.

“It’s okay, you’re home” He’s saying it to the both of you, your fingers clinging to his jacket.

He sits with you as you cry, his hands gently stroking your hair,

"I can't believe you're home" He whispers into your hair, his eyes watering as a small sniffle leaves his nose.

His hand holds yours close as you wait for the doctors to clear you, they tend to a few superficial cuts before letting you leave. Simon helps you slowly walk to the car, the ride back is silent, his eyes glancing over to check on you every so often before he pulls into the driveway.

You sit, staring at the house, he opens your door standing next to you, his arm extending to help you out before you make your way inside. It's all so familiar but different at the same time, everything is the same, the pictures on the shelves haven't moved, the flowers that sat in the vase now dried up and wilted, he kept everything the same.

"Let's go to bed" He says, his hands lightly cupping your jaw as he leans down to plant a gentle kiss to your forehead. You follow quietly behind him as he settles into bed, the mattress is soft under your body, a stark contrast to the environment you've been in for the past few months.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you into him as his chin settles on top of your head, you're breathing in his scent, the warmth of his skin enveloping you just like you wished it had for so many nights. Simon's heart aches with every sniffle you let escape, all he can do is hold you.

"I love you so much Simon"

He takes a deep breath, hip lips pressed to the crown of your head, "Don't ever leave me fox".

[snippychicke]

It's Just Business Three

YOU THOUGHT I FORGOT? NEVER!

Look at that face! Look!

Fandom: One Piece (LA mainly)

Rating: Teen so far

Pairing: Sanji/Reader

Warnings: No real warnings, but god, I hope you like pining

Summary: You felt like you had known Sanji forever, considering your family had been the main merchants Zeff used to supply the Baratie. You had a small crush on him, but knew it was hopeless considering you were the one woman he didn't seem to pine over. 

It was fine. Or so you thought until you ended up on the Going Merry as a bookkeeper and supply manager. Being around him 24/7 was a lot more difficult than just a few days a week.  

(Please note 》°《 denotes a scene in the past while -*- will be a regular scene break. Because yeah, I like my non-linear story telling.)

Masterpost | Ao3

You weren’t unfamiliar with fighting. After all, merchant ships attracted pirates like honey attracted flies. 

But damn, the fishman pirates were really of a different breed. You were on the defensive more than anything, blocking blows and only able to land a few potshots in retaliation. You could feel bruises already blooming from where you got hit, the unsettling feeling of blood trickling from various wounds. 

But you didn’t give up. How could you when the others kept bravely fighting? Zoro’s blades danced in the air with unnatural graces against the other pirates, the man barely waivering despite the fact he still had his massive injuries from Mihawk. And Sanji was far more skilled than yourself considering he trained regularly with Zeff, his long legs proving to be far stronger than they looked.  

Except as much as they fought against Arlong's pirates, the two men were bickering heatedly amongst themselves too - which was not helping anyone except the enemy. 

“Will you two stop fighting!” You snarled as you ended up between the green-hair swordsman and the blond chef--both literally and figuratively. “Beat these assholes and then have at it for all I care, but god damn if we lose I am going to murder you both.”  

Zoro shot you a dark look, as if to silently scoff at the fact you could even hope to beat him - you couldn’t, but you would try your best, god damn it - before he rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the fishmen that were regrouping. 

Sanji however, frowned as he looked you over and stepped closer to wipe blood from your lip. “I told you that you should have stayed back on the ship, or even the village.” 

You glared at him. “The only orders I take are the ones I get paid for,” You shot back. “Just ‘cause you’re stronger than me doesn’t make you my boss.” 

His frown deepened. "That's not what I meant. I just mean you'd be safer back on the Going Merry."

"We all would, but that's not why we came, is it?" You hated the fact he had been right about Nami, but you hated Arlong and his crew more for what they did to the young woman. You had gripped Sanji’s hand tightly when you heard Nami softly ask Luffy for help, full of rage on her behalf for what the bastards had done. He had squeezed back as he took a drag of his cigarette, as if silently promising that you would get revenge on her behalf. 

"I thought you said something about fighting them, not each other," Zoro yelled out, three swords holding back the pirates while you and Sanji argued.  

"Mind your damn own business!" You and Sanji snarled at the green haired swordsman at the same time. 

You were fairly certain you heard Zoro curse you both, swearing something about waiters and bossy women. You ignored his comment as  Sanji darted for one of the gray-skinned fishmen, and you followed suit. 

-*-

It had been a knife in your heart when Sanji greeted Nami so warmly, sounding so elated to see the red-head. 

Yet the fact she passed him and went for Zoro and Usopp made you cackle heartedly despite yourself, going as far as leaning on the dejected man as you tried to calm your laughter. (The mix of the battle high and relief it was over may have made you a bit unusually giggly.)

“It’s not that funny,” He grumbled, though at the same time his arm wrapped around your waist to help steady you. 

“I’m sorry,” You wheezed, pressing your head against his shoulder. “You just… and she didn’t even pause. My poor boy, I don’t think she’s that into you.” 

Sanji was quiet as you calmed yourself, though his arm never left your waist, or even loosened the smallest bit. “Sometimes a woman requires a bit of wooing,” He defended once your laughter died away, making you snort. “Nami’s been through a rough time, so of course she’d run to her friends.” 

You tried to keep the smile on your face despite any trace of humor draining from your heart. He was in deep this time, wasn’t he? 

It was probably a good thing you’d be parting ways, so you didn’t have to watch him try to woo her, as he said. Even if it meant you wouldn’t see him for who knew how long. Or the fact the idiot could die out on the open sea and you would never see him again. Never see the humor in his bright blue eyes, lips twitching in a smile. Never be able to bicker good-naturedly with him, arguing just for the sake of arguing. Or just feel at home with his casual touch--he was one of the very few who you felt safe enough to indulge in that need for physical touch.

Sanji spoke your name softly, drawing you from your thoughts. “You okay?” He asked as you looked up and was able to see worry pinching his eyebrows together. 

You offered a weak smile. “Yeah, just tired all of a sudden. Adrenaline must be wearing off.” 

The concerned expression didn’t leave despite the soft smile on his lips. His thumb rubbed along the curve of your wait reassuringly as he pulled you closer. "Once Luffy's finished, we'll head back and I'll make a big meal, okay? Just hang in there until then. 

Oh, it wasn't the immediate future you were worried about. But you nodded your head nevertheless, and tried to enjoy what short time you had left with your friend before you parted ways. 

~*~

Despite your obvious exhaustion, you assisted with preparing the celebratory meal that night, for which Sanji was thankful. You weren’t exactly one of the line cooks of the Baratie, but you knew enough that he didn’t have to worry once he explained his initial idea of a large stir-fry. 

He was looking forward to more of this; the adventure, fulfilling his dream of finding the All Blue, Zeff’s dream. But also sharing it all with you. Seeing you more than just a few times a week, stealing short moments between both your duties and his.  

The two of you had always been close and had shared a few small (and some not so small) adventures through the years. He couldn’t lie to himself, his feelings for you were far from platonic, but the problem was you thought you knew him too well and never believed he was being serious as he tried to flirt. No matter how close he held you, or how many times he pressed kisses to you head and hand while calling you sweetheart, you thought he was just kidding. That it was all platonic. 

He wasn’t sure how you were going to react when --if-- you ever realized the truth.

》°《

Zeff frowned as he looked down at you and Sanji, both of you out of breath and covered in sweat as you sat back to back. "You two shrimps are pitiful, really."

You grumbled as you leaned against Sanji, trying to catch your breath. He had been beating your ass fairly, though at least you had given him a work out. 

"We've been doing this all afternoon," Sanji shot back, still full of spit and vinegar in his small body despite everything. "Let her have a break, and I'll fight you instead." 

You moved to look at him, confused. He… was defending you? After the fact you were in this position because you had been fighting in the pantry? 

Zeff laughed, his arms crossed in front of his chest that was probably bigger than both you and Sanji combined. "You think you can take me, little eggplant?"

Even with one just a thin pegleg, you knew to challenge Zeff was a death wish. Your parents had told you stories of Red Leg Zeff of the Cook Pirates, likely in an attempt to make you behave when aboard the Baratie.  

Yet despite knowing how harsh Zeff truly could be, Sanji only glared harder. "I'd rather take you than force her to do any more training."

Zeff smirked, though his expression softened.  "You little shit. How about you go scrounge up some lunch for you both and take a rest. And maybe next time you won't be so prone to starting fights." 

The captain-chef turned and left you and Sanji alone on the deck. You groaned as you tried to flop down on the slatted wood, except Sanji wrapped an arm around your shoulders and kept you sitting up. How he still had any energy or strength was beyond you. You felt boneless. Or maybe more like all your bones had been shattered.

"You heard the old bastard," Sanji said as he pulled you up as if you were just an overly large flour bag. "Let's go get you some food."

"God, how do you have energy?" You whined as he helped you back inside. 

"I train at least twice a day, more if I piss the geezer off,” was his grumbled answer. 

What little energy you could spare was used to have a flash of empathy for him; you couldn't imagine having to do this twice a day. "So, you’re Mr. Fancypants in the kitchen and on the battlefield." 

He shot you a smile that looked a lot like Zeff’s when he was somewhat proud of something. "Heh, guess you could say that."