#magnetic table pads

[thebibliosphere]

Good news, I did not become spontaneously magnetic and blow up the MRI machine 👍

It did give me a wicked headache though so hopefully it doesn’t turn into a migraine.

I will say. Nicest MRI team to date. They handed me earplugs and I was like “oh fancy, my last one didn’t give me earplugs” and this very camp tech with rainbow hair said, “oh honey, they let you rawdog that sound? Absolutely not. That’s like an OSHA violation. It’s so loud.”

When asked what I wanted to listen to on the headphones they clamped over my head I was just like idk surprise me. And that’s when I was informed I’d be listening to Chappell Roan for the next forty minutes.

When they were about to load me into the machine I heard this voice over the speakers that went “waaait, does this form say EDS? Like Ehlers Danlos?”

And I said yes, as best I could with a giant cage over my head and a thing holding my chin in place. To which the disembodied voice replied, “okay people, time to brace those joints!” and a sudden gaggle of techs I hadn’t seen before came in, pulled me out and repositioned all my limbs to make sure I wasn’t over extending on the table.

They put some extra padding around my neck too which was helpful because I could feel it trying to subluxate. It gave a nasty click at one point and the tech trying to help me froze and I had to assure her I was fine. (Spoiler: based on this growing headache, I may not be fine.)

And then they put the cage back on and rolled me back into the giant casket shaped magnet as Hot To Go started playing at full volume and I flashed forward to imagining my own funeral, wondering if it’d be too morbid a song to play at the crematorium. They had to keep telling me to stop laughing.

When it was over the same voice came over the speakers like, “hey, so you have EDS, do you have POTS too?” to which I answered in the affirmative and the voice said “mmm-kay. Don’t move.” then vanished, which was when I was pulled out of the machine by two extremely burly orderlies who transferred me to a reclining bed until the dizziness from the machine stopped, which was super nice.

I do appear to have had an allergic reaction to whatever detergent they use to clean the scrubs they gave me. But other than that and the probable migraine, it was a good experience.

Now we just need to wait on the results.

[moonchildstyles]

sin

y/n is an angel and harry is a demon whos taught her how much fun it can be to sin

wordcount: 7.8k+

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The first time (Y/N) floated down from the clouds, she had no idea what a Pocket was, let alone where to find one. That time felt so long ago with the way she could now navigate herself to her favorite Pocket without a second thought. The route had become one of familiarity, guiding butterflies flitting through her stomach the closer she made it with every step. 

Slipping out of sight of the main street, she counted thirteen paces down the quiet alleyway before finding the brick that needed just the right touch before it would show off the hidden doorway she needed. The brick was grainy and rough under her palm, her skin catching on the mortar as she pushed against it until it finally gave away underneath. Just like that, the seemingly solid wall opened up, revealing an entryway for her eyes only. 

(Y/N) felt giddy as she stepped inside, the doorway vanishing behind her when she crossed the threshold. She knew it was secure once more when there was a breeze that skated over her skin and fluffed through her wings, seemingly sealing her away from the rest of the world. In a way, it was, but there was still a waiting invitation to the one other person who knew about this Pocket—the one that had shown her the way in the first place.

Getting comfortable while she waited, (Y/N) was happy to see the place was untouched from her last visit. When she had first seen this Pocket, it was the closest thing she had ever seen to an interdimensional "bachelor pad". There hadn't been much of anything to see that first time, only the bones of someone’s presence though they were too busy to return much. She remembered it had felt stale as if it had been abandoned for years despite the unmade bed in the corner with messy sheets and tufted comforter. 

Harry had told her it was a place he barely used—it was one of the first Pockets he conjured on his own, and he'd since honed the craft into bringing something more extravagant to life. He still visited just to keep the curse fresh, but he otherwise only stayed there if it was necessary and no other options were available. 

His last resort had since become their hideaway. Special for just the two of them; another secret for them to share with one another. 

It had come a long way from when she had first visited with Harry on her tail, leaving behind the less than ideal bed set up, and vacant walls. (Y/N) had used all of her inspiration from seeing countless humans decorate their homes, turning the dreary Pocket into a cozy getaway. Heaven didn't necessarily allow for a lot of individualism when it came to living spaces, seeing as how everything was ordained to be pristine and creamy. Here, (Y/N) got to use as much color as she wanted—as long as it didn't spur any headaches for Harry, anyway. 

Now, there was an actual bed frame holding up a cushy mattress, the pillows feather soft and always cool to the touch. The bedding was a warm orangey color, playing off of the greens and pinks throughout the space. There were pictures—canvases full of paint Harry said he "found" through his travels—pinned to the walls, playing into the bright hues (Y/N) was toying with. A rug now sat in the middle of the room in the shape of a paint blob in a creamy green shade that made her think of Harry's eyes. The kitchen—though near unnecessary given their statuses—was given the same treatment as the rest of the studio-sized space. There were magnets covering the unused fridge, appliances and bowls of always fresh fruit sitting on the counter. A bouquet of flowers that never died were sitting on the bedside table, perfuming the air with a light fragrance that drew her in. Her favorite part was the mirror by the bed, ornate and carved with cherubs. 

Walking in felt like a breath of fresh air. As much as she loved being an angel—guiding humans in need, taking care of those who needed her touch, changing lives for the better—being here in this Pocket was the one thing she could see herself loving more.

It would be a little bit better if she wasn't alone, though. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed, fluffy wings tucked against her back, she fixed her eyes on the doorless portal, waiting for the telltale creek and scrape of concrete that would signal Harry's arrival. This was the bad part of being chronically early, she thought, never being sure when the other would show up and keep her from being lonely. 

Lucky for her, it was only another handful of minutes before her ears picked up on the familiar sound of footsteps trailing over the pavement. Her breath caught when they stopped just outside where the Pocket's door was, a smile unfurling on her features when that first creek sounded through the room. She rose to her feet just in time to see the first uniform crack in the wall before the rest of the doorway came to be. 

Slipping inside, Harry didn't wait for the portal to shut behind him before he was crossing the room to meet her. 

"(Y/N)," he sighed, his grin toothy and completely with dimples, "Sorry I took so long." 

Wrapping his arms around her, (Y/N) melted into his embrace. His hands settled just below her fluffy wings, holding her close while she rested her cheek on his chest. 

"It's okay," she murmured, eyes fluttering to a close as she soaked in his warmth, "I'm happy you're here." 

Harry's response came in the form of a small kiss being dropped on the top of her head, the contact decidedly delicate as opposed to his nature. He'd told her before that she was the only one that could draw that side of him out—the docile side that had no alignment with chaos or sabotage. This side of him was just for her, he'd shared. 

Shifting his hands on her, his fingertips brushing her wings with a shudder shooting down (Y/N)'s spine, Harry repositioned until he had his hands cradling her cheeks as he tipped her head up to face him. His dark eyes shimmered green, taking in each of her features as if it were the first time again. 

"I've missed you," he crooned, "So much, darling. What have you been up to since the last time I saw you?" 

Despite there being no way for anyone, mortal or otherwise to overhear them, every word he spoke to her was uttered like a secret. Just for her. 

"I missed you," she smiled, unlooping her own arms to settle with her hands on his chest, "But, I've been okay. Just doing angel stuff." 

His lips quirked into a lopsided curve, his thumb brushing along the height of her cheekbone. "Always angel stuff with you. No breaks." 

"No breaks," she played along as if she wasn't currently in the middle of a break with him right now, where not even her creator could spot her if she tried, "What about you?" 

"Just the opposite of angel stuff," he teased, managing to bring a smile to her face despite knowing the reality of his joke. He had a certain way of putting it, describing his job, that made it not sound so bad when it came to (Y/N)'s sensibilities. (Truthfully, it could be because she just liked his voice. He could make anything sound heavenly). 

"Fun?" she smiled, letting him walk her back towards the bed. 

"Always," he hummed, escorting her backwards until her legs hit the edge. 

Tumbling back, a bubbling laugh left (Y/N)'s lips as she clung to Harry. He fell atop her, her thighs splitting to settle him between. Underneath, the mattress conformed to the shape of her wings, Harry's hands pressing into the planes of her back as if she wasn't close enough as is. 

Before the world had a chance to settle around her, Harry tipped his chin and pressed his lips to hers. Though she didn't have much to compare it to, (Y/N) had little doubt that there could ever be a better kisser out there than Harry. Her point was proven every time he sealed his mouth to hers, her top lip cradled between his two. 

This was never going to get old, she knew. Not with the bubbling that ignited under her skin at the contact, the way there was nothing more she wanted than to cling to him and bask in his warmth. With every angling and tipping of their heads, movements made in tandem, she was drawn deeper and deeper in everything that was him. Tucked underneath him like this, mouth coming together and parting with soft breaths between, it was hard to think that the universe had crafted them to be enemies. 

Tracing his mouth down from hers, dotting a line over her jaw, Harry murmured in her ear, "I don't have much time, darling." 

"No?" she asked, a pout evident in just the single syllable, "Why not?" 

Harry drew back only to give her an apologetic smile. "Opposite of angel stuff, remember?" 

"Since when does that have a schedule?" She sounded petulant even to her own ears, but if there was one sin she was willing to commit, it was greed when it came to Harry. 

"Since I told Sarah I would meet up with her soon," Harry offered the challenge with a raised brow. Sarah wasn't like the others of his kind, she was more stubborn and would actually go looking for him if he stood her up, if only to wreak havoc for him personally as revenge. 

"To do not-angel stuff that I'll have to clean up later?" she pressed, feeling her attitude leak away now that she knew her time was limited with him. 

His smile was brilliant at her words, wide with bracketing dimples. "Of course. That's why we work so well, darling." 

It was that kind of language, the sweet one that made even demon activities sound silly, that had her splitting into a smile before tipping her chin in hopes of coaxing him into a kiss. It didn't take much convincing for Harry's lips to press into hers, resuming the lingering kissing he'd interrupted before. 

On her back, Harry shifted his hands until he grazed the stem of her wings. The second his fingertips glanced against the base of one fluffy, tightly packed feather, a shudder wormed down her spine. Her breathing stuttered in her chest, a furrow pinching at her brow. From the way he had to keep from smiling against her mouth, she knew he was aware of the effect of his touch—undoubtedly intentional. 

It was the easiest way to get her riled up, and that was exactly what he needed for their time limit. 

Just as he'd surely hoped, there was a change in the pacing of their kissing. (Y/N) leaned into his touch, anticipating another lingering touch against her wings. Her hands slid over his chest, fingers denting the blocky muscles that made up his body, landing on the shelf of his shoulders. Her fingertips hooked into the solid muscle, clinging to him. 

Her heartbeat stutters behind her ribs when she felt his hands shifting on her back. This time, he dared to run his fingers through the feathers, the structure underneath down was grazed by his warm touch. An involuntary moan slipped from her mouth and into his.

Instead of something smug crossing his features, Harry only kissed her harder. His mouth was hot, taking in her sudden pants from his touch. 

"Harry?" she murmured, breathless against his mouth. He didn't bother drawing away from her as he hummed, the pillows of his lips dragging over hers. "Do we have enough time?" 

This finally had his lips quirking. He nodded his head gently, the tip of his nose grazing her own. "I'll make time."

When she felt his hands drift away from her wings, she wanted to complain. She wanted to whine enough for him to know she didn't like that he was moving on, but that need was quieted when she felt his palm settle on the plush of her thigh. His touch was heavy and warm, denting into the soft skin while the other hooked around her waist in a cradle. 

In one fluid motion, he had her on her back with her mouth dropped open in a gasp. Instinctively, she had tightened her grip on him, her legs wrapping around his waist during the roll. By the time Harry was underneath her, her surprise had morphed into laughter, her chest pressed to his as she slumped into him. 

"You scared me," she bubbled, shifting in his lap with her knees bracketing his hips. 

"Sorry, darling," he murmured with a soft smile, the pitch of his pupils blown wide as he took her in. 

Steadying her, he settled his hand on her hips as she planted her hands on his chest to prop herself up above him. She could feel her wings fluff out behind her, no longer confined against the mattress. Harry's eyes followed the span of her feathers, the stretch reaching just slightly wider than her shoulders. He'd told her more than once how cute he thought her wings were—he'd never seen any quite as fluffy as hers, especially compared to his own. 

He looked up at her with reverence in his gaze, something adoring and smothering dancing in his irises as he watched her from below. She felt warm under his eyes, her fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt to keep herself from preening like a dove under his attention.

His adoring gaze translated into his soft hands trailing over the curve of her form, his palms warming the ladder of his ribs with his thumbs brushing the sides of her breasts. Even through her dress, his touch elicited a round of gooseflesh to prickle her skin. Her breath lagged in her lungs. 

Though time hadn't ever felt like much for (Y/N), seeing as she was immortal, Harry had made her impatient. It'd been a handful of days since the last time they had snuck off to their Pocket, but those days had felt like years to her body without his touch. 

The trail of his gaze almost felt tangible, warm and heavy, the longer he watched her. 

"What?" she asked, feeling breathless when he ran his thumbs against the swells of her chest. 

He didn't bother to pull his eyes from where they lingered on her body, especially liking the way her thighs were split around his hips under the hem of her dress. "Nothing," he mumbled, shaking his head against the pillows cushioned underneath, "Jus' haven't had y'on top in a while. I like it." 

She had thought before that greed was the only sin he could inspire in her, but lust was quickly overtaking the top spot. He was right; she didn't usually get a chance to look at him like this. While she loved lying underneath him, at his mercy while he drove himself home between her legs, there was something to be said about the perspective she gained while sitting astride his lap like this. 

His hair laid in soft waves against the linen of this pillows, curling towards his face as if a frame for a portrait. His lashes were long and dark, framing his eyes and drawing his prey in at a glance. There was a spray of freckles glancing off the bridge of his nose, faint against the cream of his skin. Though his eyes were dark, there were shatters of green that could be seen if one were close enough to spot the hues. His body was made of strong lines and angles, his jaw, much of the same despite the soft skin of his lips and the gentle way he admired her. 

He was the perfect demon—the perfect temptation. If not for the fact she knew what was hidden away, she would have argued he was an angel like her. 

"I like it, too," she told him, breathless, "I like it when you look at me like that." 

"Yeah?" he prodded, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth when he finally matched her gaze. His hands on her sides drifted down until he met the hem of her dress, taking the delicate material between his fingers. "Can I see more of you then, darling? Promise I'll keep looking at you like this."

Biting back her smile, she drew her hands away from his chest to grab for the hem of her dress. Moving his own hands back, he watched as she pulled her dress over her head, wings tucked against her back with the material drifting over her feathers. The familiar butterflies that came with revealing her body in a way she had never anticipated she would in her angel life flittered through her stomach. Their fluorescent wings flew high enough to glance over the chambers of her heart, feeling just as real as the warmth of his eyes draping over her newly exposed skin. Between Harry's legs, she felt a ridge thicken, pressing into her core with every drawing breath she pulled into her lungs. 

Throwing her dress to the floor, her form was left with only a dainty pair of underwear sitting on her hips and a matching bra barely covering her breasts. 

Harry's dark eyes seemingly left behind the slight hue of green, instead revealing only pitch black irises that blended seamlessly into his pupils. If any more of his control slipped, the whole of his eyes would match the inky darkness—a sight (Y/N) used to fear that now had her blood pumping. 

He couldn't help himself before he had his hands on her once more. His touch was adoring, lingering and warm. 

"Y'planned for this didn't you?" he mused, raising a brow when he met her eyes. 

"What do you mean?" she asked, canting her head with her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

"You know," he drawled, his hips shifting underneath her own with a cursory roll, "I thought y'were an angel, and here y'are dressing in lingerie to seduce a demon. How'd y'even get into heaven, hm?" 

The way he spoke to her was thrilling in a way that could rival his touch; he made her feel dirty, questioning how someone like the girl in his lap could have snuck into heaven, while touching and looking at her with reverence she could only keen under. 

"I thought you liked it when I did this," she countered, her lips tugging into a faux-frown. 

"Oh, I do, darling. Can't you tell?" 

With that, the slow roll he'd given with his hips morphed into a strong buck against her hips. The ridge she'd felt before was now a bulge, heavy and pushing. Her wings fluttered recalling the last time he had stuffed himself inside her, her legs thrown over his shoulders and tears in her eyes. 

The memory had her shifting her hips against his, rolling her core over the bulge she felt in his lap. Harry's breath hitched just as a petite moan hummed from her chest. His hands on her waist tightened, fingertips denting the soft flesh. 

"Do that again for me, darling," Harry murmured, his voice a low rumble as if it were a secret only to be shared with her, "Put on a pretty show for me." 

Planting her hands on his abdomen, feeling the blocks of muscle underneath his shirt, she steadied herself on him as she began rolling her hips against his once more. The rough texture of his jeans could be felt through her thin panties, both his thickening cock and the seaming of his pants pressing into her clit. Her knees planted on either side of his hips were digging into the mattress, spreading that much wider the more she rocked against him to sink herself onto him that much more. Her wings fluttered behind her, her feathers fanning in a short fluff at her back. 

Under her hands, Harry's stomach was tense, muscles densely bunched together. She glanced up at him to find him watching her with hooded eyes, his gaze feeling just as heavy and tangible as his hands on her waist. The sight had her grinding her hips that much harder against his cock, a shiver thrilling up her spine until a breathless moan fell from her lips. 

"I could watch you all day, darling," Harry mused, his voice rumbling under her hands as much as it reached her ears, "But, we don't have that kind of time, do we?" 

"No," she answered automatically, a whine to her voice as she shook her head. She didn't really feel like thinking about how quickly their time would be cut short. 

His hands on her waist slid down until he reached her hips, his grip solidifying until he had her stopped in her tracks. Her fingers curled in the material of his shirt, her bottom lip sinking under the weight of her teeth. 

"Get me out, darling."

Maybe it was the deep rumble of his voice, or the steadfast contact of his eyes with hers, but (Y/N) could have melted in that moment. Her lungs squeezed with her heart rattling behind her ribs. It was only when a smug smile tugged at the corner of his mouth that she realized she had lingered too long admiring him. 

Unfurling her hands from his top, she fumbled at the waist of his pants. Every shifting of her hips against his lap had her in a daze, making it that much harder to concentrate on following his instructions—something he was well aware of with the way he had his own pelvis rocking upwards as if he didn't know what he was doing. 

Pulling down his jeans enough to expose his black briefs, (Y/N) could have breathed a sigh of relief when she was able to hook her fingers in the waist of his underwear. A spray of goosebumps touched at his skin, his cock visibly jumping when she reached for his cock. 

His skin was heated, shaft thick with his head leaking by the time she had her fist wrapped around him. Shoving his briefs down enough to pull him out, (Y/N) had her attention stolen and pinned to his cock. The head was leaking and red, a pearl of precum glossing from his slit. She instinctively wrapped her hadn't around his shaft, feeling the ridge of his head under her palm and the pumping of the vining vein wrapped around. A heavy breath shuddered through his chest at the touch. (Y/N) couldn't keep her eyes off of him, lusty adrenaline sparking through her system at the thought that he was in this state because of her. 

"You're so cute, darling," Harry said, breathless as he drew her out of her head. 

"Huh?" she murmured, tearing her eyes away from his ruddy cock and the shallow pumps she made around his shaft. 

If he'd had an answer at the ready, he'd cut himself off as he sank into the mattress with a sigh. The pristine pillow compressed under his head when he threw it back in the preludes of ecstasy. 

"Jus' you," he murmured, recovering with his eyes only opening to a slit, "'S always like the first time with, isn't it? Y'always look at me like you've never seen me before—'s cute."

She felt shy all of a sudden, as if she didn't have his cock in her hand. Her wings tucked to her shoulder blades, cocooning her together as if they could shrink and hide her. 

"I like you," she told him, "That's all." 

"Yeah?" he pressed smugly, his cheeks beginning to flush as (Y/N) just laid her hand on him without offering the relief of her fist, "Jus' like me?" 

A bashful tug had her lips curling into a small smile. "I love you." 

"That's what I thought." 

With that, one of his hands on her waist abandoned post only to land on the back of her neck. His palm was a cuff around the warm skin as he curled upwards and tugged her down in the same sweep. His lips met hers in a warm press, his tongue snaking out with the tip dragging along the full of her bottom lip. She didn't have to think before she was opening up for him, running her own tongue across his to get a taste. 

It was (Y/N)'s turn then to get a taste of his pleasure, a moan spilling from his throat and settling on her tongue. Her hand around his cock tightened, the grip snug and clinging. The longer he played with her, his hand tight on the back of her neck as if in fear she would pull away before he was ready, the seat of her panties grew that much more wet. Her toes curled in the bedding at his sides, her free hand pawing at his chest in the lone need to feel him. 

Drawing away just enough to speak, (Y/N)'s lips brushed against his own as she whispered, "I-I want to see you, Harry." 

"'M here, darling," he answered her simply before attempting to dive back in for more. 

"No," she practically pouted, puckering her lips for one more kiss before pleading again, "No, I want more—it's not fair if I'm the only one without my clothes on" 

She could feel him smile into her mouth, his hand offering an affectionate squeeze to the back of her neck before he pulled away. 

"When have I ever been fair, darling?" he prodded, giving her a raised brow as if he wasn't going to give into each and every single one of her demands. 

"You are with me," she countered with a cant to her head.

Something softened in his expression then, as if she didn't have her hand wrapped around his cock. "I suppose I am, aren't I?" 

Peeling his shirt off, the material becoming a black puddle on the bed behind her to reveal the tan skin and inked marks covering his musculature. 

(Y/N) had heard time and time again throughout her existence how demons could never be trusted, that they were a creation that an angel like her shouldn't taint themselves by even breathing next to. She had been told they were slimy skinned, rows of teeth stuffed in their mouths, with eyes that could pull you straight to hell if you looked into them long enough. 

Looking at Harry the way he was now beneath her, she could see why her ancestors would craft such tales; if she had known there were creatures out there that looked the way Harry did, she would have tried to find him the first time she floated from the clouds. 

She couldn't help the way her hands drifted up his chest. Her fingers skimmed over his chest, dancing over the butterfly inked on his stomach and he birds up high by his collarbones. There was a flight layer of goosebumps that rose in her wake. 

A breathy laugh that fell from his lips brought her attention back to the surface, pulling her gaze to flick up and match his. Amusement floated in his irises, a slight smile on his raspberry lips. 

"You're cute," he told her simply. 

"I'm not trying to be cute," she answered, a stubborn set to her jaw. 

That only seemed to amuse him more, a dimple now denting his cheek as his smile grew. "Right," he drawled, "As much as I love letting y'touch all over me, I don't think we have enough time left for y'to have too much fun." 

The reminder was enough to have her mouth fixing into a pout. That wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"Oh, yeah," she answered sullenly, stilling her hands on his shoulders with her body leant over his. 

"I know," he said, craning his neck to press a small kiss to the corner of her mouth in a lingerie draw, "Next time we're here, we'll spend all night together. I promise."

A dreamy sigh fanned from her lungs at the thought, her eyes falling closed. It'd been a while since they had been able to spend a whole night in the Pocket together—the last time had left her in love and flying wonky the next day. 

She could hear the smile in his voice when he pressed, "Sound good, darling?" 

"Mhm," she hummed, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip, "I want that now." 

"I know y'do," he murmured, "You'll jus' have to settle for me fucking y'fast, then." 

He said it like it was a punishment, as if her heart wasn't in her throat with adrenaline when he flipped her over once more. She was flat on her back, wings cushioned against the mattress when he sunk in between her spread thighs once more. Now, she could feel the weight of the muscles she had grazed her hands over, the width of his form she had been grinding against. 

The movement had stolen her breath, leaving her chest heaving as he looked down at her. The intensity was back once more, keeping his irises dark as he glazed his eyes over each and every line of her body. He lingered on the line of her bra, surely pinpointing where her rattling heart was scheduled by her ribs. 

"What do y'need from me, darling?" Harry mumbled, the blunt of his nails grazing the soft skin of her stomach as he dragged his hands towards the waist of her panties. 

Speaking through her shudder, she shook her head, "No-Nothing—I want you." 

Harry looked entirely too smug, the curl on his lips one she recognized even as far back as the first time they met. Back then, she couldn't stand the sight—unsure of how a demon could be proud of anything they did. Now, it was one of her favorite things, knowing she had made him feel proud of himself (at least she liked to think of it that way). 

"Y'can have me, darling," he assured her, one of his hands dripping from the waist of her underwear and down between her legs, "But, are y'wet enough for me, or do y'need some help?" 

His thumb grazed her clit, her body jumping at the slight touch. She could feel her insides pulsing, grasping for something that wasn't there yet. 

"I-I don't need help," she stuttered, pushing her hips against his hand in impatience, "Harry, please. I don't want you to leave before we're done." 

A pinch appeared between his brows then as he hooked his fingers into the gusset of her underwear, pulling the material to the side. "I would never leave y'like that, you know that. I'll always take care of m'angel."

As if to prove his point, she watched as he fisted his cock and ran the head along her folds. The air had been seemingly sucked out of the room at that moment, leaving her with a shuddering breath leaving her lungs and eyes fighting to close. She could feel his heavy gaze watching her as he nudged his cock against her pulsing opening, a small tease before he pulled back to slide through her folds once more. 

"Y'sure you're ready for me?" he teased, drawing out his words for just a second longer of the torture. 

"Harry, please," she told him, sounding a bit pathetic to her own ears though there was no guilt in the act. "I need you." 

He loved it when she pleaded with him like that. On longer nights, he would have pressed for more, taken any and every bit of begging she could offer, but she was sure the time limit was in the back of his mind when he didn't continue teasing. 

With a fluid push of his hips, he sunk in between her hips. (Y/N)'s lips fell open at the stretch, a moan getting stuck in her throat to leave nothing more than a heavy puff of air falling from her mouth. Harry's gaze was concentrated on where they were connected, his length disappearing inside her. His hand stretching back her panties let go when he bottomed out, his base pressing into her budding clit. 

His chest was heaving when he finally looked up at her once more. She could see the boundary of his irises beginning to waver, the black bleeding into the sclera. He was losing control in the most thrilling sense, the idea causing her walls to pulse around his splitting length. 

"'S been too long, darling," he told her, voice a low rumble. 

"Uh-huh," she sounded, giving a pathetic nod of her head with her hands fisting the bedding at her sides. She wanted so badly to reach for him, feel his skin under her palms, but feared flying away if she let go before she had her head on straight. 

"Never gonna wait this long again, 'kay?" Rearing back his hips, he grunted when he pushed through her channel once more. 

A puff of air left (Y/N)'s lungs once his hips pressed against hers in a slap, as if he had knocked it right out of her. Settling his hands on the bones of her hips, his thumbs stretched up towards the curve of her waist in a gentle sweeping that opposed the strength of his grip. He held her steady as he curated a fluid pace, knocking the breath out of her each time he sank inside her. 

(Y/N)'s breathing came in puffs every time she felt his tip nudge deep inside her, her body being pushed further and further into the mattress. Without his hands on her body keeping her place, she would have hit her head on the headboard by now, she figured, the thought being one that would have made her laugh if not for the fact that she was in the middle of something. 

"You're so tight," he gritted out, his voice deep and rumbling through his chest, "Thought y'said y'were ready for me." 

"I am, I am," she rushed out, pausing when he gave her a particularly punishing thrust, "I-Its been too long, re-rememeber?" 

His hands squeezed her hips that much more at her words. "I know, darling. Gonna have to make this one last then. Can't stretch y'out every time we fuck, can we?" 

Mindlessly, she shook her head, willing to agree with any and everything he was saying at the moment. She wouldn't mind him taking the time to stretch her out every time he pulled her to bed, but now wasn't the time to get greedy—she already had his cock rearranging her organs, there wasn't much more she could pine for, was there?

Except for maybe touching him herself. 

Not wanting to distract him from his job, (Y/N) unfurled her fingers from the sheets at her sides, reaching towards the thick of his arms. Her fingernails sunk into the skin, leaving small moon shapes that would no doubt still be pink by the time he was having to slip out and meet his friend. She liked the idea, her fingers clenching that much more, that a part of her would remain with him even when they couldn't be together. 

Harry was seemingly spurred on by the touch, hips knocking into hers in heady strokes. She was going to have bruises tomorrow, but she didn't care. Her mouth dropped open, small uh's leaving her parted lips in time with every push of his hips. 

"Harry, I-I," she started, her voice catching in her throat before she could say much more. 

"'M right here, darling, 's alright," he attempted to soothe her though his voice was strained and breathy with every thrust he sunk inside her. 

Her mouth was dry by the time she found her voice again, her eyes fluttering to a close. "I—Can—I want to touch—" 

That was all she managed to get out before a bubbling moan fell from her lips when he dared to grind against her once bottoming out. Through her taut underwear, he pressed against her clit, her body jumping at the touch.

"But you are touching me," he drawled, bringing her back down as he pulled his hips back. 

She knew he was only trying to goad her, get her stubborn and petulant in the way that always made him laugh, but she didn't care. It was going to work, but she would leave her scolding for later. 

"You know what I mean, Harry" she argued, peeling her eyes open to find him looking at her with that smug smile as if he wasn't exerting all of his energy into stealing her breath away. "You're being so mean to me!" 

"I'm being mean to you?" he repeated, the rhythm of his hips slowing just a hair when he brought the intensity of his gaze to match hers. "You really think that right now, darling?" 

"Yes, I do," she whined, now upset by the fact he was slowing down and not letting her touch him. She wrapped her legs around his hips from where he was knelt between her thighs in hopes of spurring him on, feeling the ridge of his length pressing through. 

One of his hands on her hips slid up her body, skating over her tummy and between her breasts until he landed on her neck. His palm laid flat on her collarbones with his fingers wrapping around her throat, a slight pressure. His hips worked in shallow thrusts, barely pulling his length out before he was pushing in once more. 

"Are you sure?" he pressed, a slight pressure closing in on the side of her throat as he squeezed that much more, "If this isn't enough for you, I can show y'how mean I can really be." 

(Y/N) felt her eyes round out as she gazed up at him, her heart stuttering in her chest. Time seemingly stood still in that moment, every detail melting away to leave only Harry in focus. 

"Oh my god," she murmured, her voice squeaking through her throat.

A slow smile tugged up the corner of Harry's lips. "No god, darling. Jus' me." 

(Y/N) couldn't help but to buck her hips against his, urging him for more. She could feel her walls fluttering around him, her wings at her back struggling against the mattress with their own restless energy begging to fluff out. 

Harry kept his hand as an anchoring weight on her throat as he dropped back into the rhythm of his hips, tightening in pulsing squeezes just long enough to have her eyes rolling to the back of her head before lightening up once more. His own control—despite the facade he was offering to (Y/N)—began to waver that much more. His eyes were almost completely black, the inky veins snaking out to envelope the sclera with every punishing thrust. The moment (Y/N) was back on Earth, peeling her eyes open enough, she swore she saw glimpses of his glamor fading, revealing the large black wings shrouding his back. 

He was close, that much she was sure of. 

"A-are you going to cum?" she asked, voice rumbling under his hand.

Shaking his head, he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. "Not until you, darling. Angels first." 

"But, I can see your wings." 

His breathing came in pants. "I know, but you're still finishing first, darling." 

Taking his hand off her neck, the ghost of his warmth left behind, Harry wrapped his arms around her middle and pulled her off the bed. Repositioning himself, he knelt on the mattress as he dragged her into his lap. His cock was snug inside her when she settled over his thighs, feeling just that much deeper with the new angle. 

Wasting no time, he had his hands stationed on her hips once more, setting a pace for her to bounce on his cock. 

"Think y'can fuck yourself like this, darling? Do all the hard work for me?" he murmured, dragging his lips over the same parts of her neck where he had choked her moments before.

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she answered, a mindless reflex as he concentrated on matching his grip. 

Using the leverage of her knees on either side of him, she lifted herself off his cock, allowing his head to stretch through her pulsing walls, before sitting herself back down in a smack of her skin against his. It was a relief to put her hands on him, feeling every inch she could reach. Her palms skimmed over the broad of his shoulders, planes of his back, and the thick of his arms all with her nails following closely behind.

Harry did much of the same, trailing up the curve of her spine until he found the base of her wings. (Y/N) couldn't help but to keen into his touch, back arching through it took everything in her to keep from getting distracted and keep riding him like he had asked. 

The first graze of his fingers over her feathers was enough to get her stomach tightening, and mouth dropping into a moan. She could feel him smiling against her neck, too proud over her reaction. 

"Always so cute, even when y'don't mean to be, you know that?" he murmured, dotting a kiss just below her ear, "All I've got to do is touch your feathers, and you're done for." 

She wanted to say something, tell him that it wasn't that easy, but there was nothing that would escape her lips other than puffs of heavy breath and whining moans.  

Rocking his hips up to meet hers, that much more pleasure settled in her stomach. As much as she wanted to argue with him that she wasn't that easy to make cum, there was some truth behind the fact that she was flying towards the finish line with every brush of his fingers and rock of his hips. 

"I can feel y'squeezing me, darling," he murmured, dragging his mouth over the line of her jaw in a lingering kiss, "Y'gonna cum for me? Did I finally work hard enough for you?" 

Despite the fact he'd asked her a question, there was no way he had been expecting an answer with the way he wiggled his fingertips through the brush of her feathers and coasted along the bony structure underneath. He knew she wouldn't be able to survive that, a long moan choking out from her throat with her stomach too tight to bear. 

(Y/N) tried to keep her pacing as best she could—something she couldn't believe Harry was able to do all the time—, but the rhythm was undoubtedly interrupted as she came around him. She could feel every inch of him as her insides pulsed around him, taking in the ridge of his head and the length that had split her open in the first place. His base was pressed heavily against her clit, rivaling the pressure of his fingers dancing through her feathers. 

She wanted to be present but the heavens called to her then, the Pocket left behind for a few lingering moments. By the time she was floating back down to Earth, Harry's hands settling on her hips as he lifted her off his cock, the sight before her was enough to get her back to square one, wishing they more time. 

Harry's eyes were now completely pitch black, no more white sclera or shatters of green to be seen. His glamour had faded away, leaving the leather stretch of his wings visible, the span much larger than her own as they fanned out around them. The webbing cocooned around them, creating a curtain around her body as if there wasn't enough of him touching her already. 

His cock shone in the low light between them, her slick coating him as he fisted the length. It only took a few passes of his hand before his cum blurted out in thick ropes across her stomach. 

"Fuck—(Y/N)—I—" Nothing of coherence fell from his lips then, every bit of concentration laid to rest as he watched himself cum on an angel. 

A furrow had his brows pinched together, his eyes hooded and dark. His mouth was stagnant in a gape once he stopped trying to speak. 

It wasn't until the remaining spurts of his cum rolled down his shaft and his ruddy head was seemingly beginning to stain purple that he pulled his shaky hands away. Using his wings as well as his hands, he hugged (Y/N) to his chest with his softening cock between them. Even with the mess that was beginning to dry on her stomach, he held her tight, pressing hard kisses to her temple and side of her face until he met her lips. 

"Y'okay?" he panted to her, the tip of his nose nudging against her own. 

"I'm okay," she murmured, wrapping her own arms around his neck. 

"Happy?" he asked, just the same as he always did in these quiet moments after the storm. 

A small smile stretched over her lips. "Happy." 

Gently laying her backwards, Harry kept himself glued to her, wings and all, as they settled among the sheets. Despite the fact he had no discernible pupil, she could feel his gaze traveling over her features and taking her in as he always did. She felt bashful under his eyes, her own wings shyly tucking into her back. 

"What is it, darling?" he asked, sweeping a few stray hairs from her face. 

"Nothing, just... You." 

"Just me?" he countered, reaching blindly for his discarded shirt he'd tossed earlier. 

"Just you," she repeated with a breathy laugh, allowing him to wipe his mess away with his shirt. (How he had the courage to clean her up with it knowing that he'd have to wear it out to meet his friend later, she wasn't sure). "How long can you stay?" 

Harry's features took on a somber set at her words, just the same as she felt. "Not long, darling. Jus' long enough to make sure y'get to sleep, then I'll have to leave." 

"What if I don't fall asleep?" 

The smile he gave her told her that he was very familiar with the game she was beginning to play with him. 

"Guess I'll have to stay." 

Despite the black eyes and leathery bat wings sprouting from his back, the sweet smile and boyish dimples in Harry's cheeks could rival that of any angel in (Y/N)'s opinion. 

That was why they worked, she thought as she snuggled closer to him: she brought out the angel in him and he showed her just how fun sinning could be.

—————

ahhhh I guess this is my little contribution to the valentines day vibe this year! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any ideas send them in!! I also have more writing available on my patreon if you want more :)

[jpitha]

Do What it Takes

Everyone goes on and on about the humans, how strong they are, how dangerous their world is, their risk management (or lack thereof) and even their ability to process the rather worrying things they call “food.”

One thing I haven’t seen though is people discussing their… aspect that I find fascinating. They even have a word for it - grit. It’s this ability to take on unimaginable stress, and maintain that strength of resolve. That realization that the only thing they can do is endure. They even have a saying. “When you find yourself going through Hell, keep going.” Hell here is a substution for any kind of hard times they’re currently experiencing. It’s an idiom, don’t worry about the specific meaning of the word. The saying implies that if you’re “going through hell” then you need to keep going, because otherwise you won’t ever get out of the hard situation you find yourself in.

When it was first explained to me, a lot of what I saw about the humans snapped to place, like magnets on a table.

Once, back during the war I saw a single human shoulder a crew operated slug thrower and - by themselves - hold off an entire Zenni boarding party long enough for the rest of the ship to mount a defense. Not only did they shoulder and fire the weapon themselves, but they survived!

Others weren’t so lucky. I’ve heard tales of humans walking into active reactors to stop an overload, blinding themselves from ultraviolet radiation to repair a hull, and sustain withering gee forces to crush attackers. When asked why they’d do that, most of them replied that they just “did what they needed to” or that “they do what it takes.”

I’m not here to say that we can’t do that either. Having grit or strength of character isn’t solely a human development. But maybe as a result of the world they evolved on they tend to have grit in greater supply than other sapient species. They “do what it takes” because they’ve always had to do what it takes to survive.

A human friend has recently offered to take me to Earth, their homeworld to “see the sights.” His only warning about his own planet was that we should probably avoid some months. I asked why.

He waved his hand dismissively as if it was just a minor trifle, an inconvenience. “Oh, it’s hurricane season in the fall. I don’t know if you want to experience one of them.”

“What’s a hurricane?” I asked, cautiously.

“It’s a large storm that spins up over the ocean as the planets way to help remove some heat from the water. They can get pretty wild sometimes.”

When a human tells you that something can get “pretty wild” one’s fur tends to poof out.

I said I’d think about it, and went back to my cabin to research these Hurricanes. About an hour later I was shaking in my seat, glued to my pad watching video after video of houses just… disappearing in the wind and water.

The next day, I confronted him about the hurricanes. Once again, he was dismissive. “You get plenty of warning, and time to evacuate, they’re not that big of a deal.”

I bristled, and my ears twitched. “Not that big of a deal? But your homes get destroyed!”

He nodded. “True, that does happen. But, it’s not a surprise and we come prepared. You do what it takes if you want to live there.”

I think I’ll take him up on his offer.

[jaethaone]

Can’t Get Enough

Pairing: Roman Reigns x Black F!Reader

Word Count: 2.8 (She A Big One 😂)

Requested: I just want a fic of Roman who’s obsessed with how thick his girlfriend is, maybe she’s built kinda like Skai Jackson or even Trinity Fatu but he loves to hit and smack her ass, watch it move when they fuck, squeeze it when he walks by, I just want smut 😞

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: SMUT! Like Pure Smut .. I’m Honestly Ashamed Of Myself 🙈😂

A/n: I Honestly Wasn’t Expecting This To Be As Long But Once I Get In My Zone, It Just Be Writing😂 Hope You Guys Enjoy.

Roman couldn't keep his hands off of you. He was absolutely obsessed with your curvy figure, especially your ass. It was his favorite part of your body, a source of endless fascination and desire.

Whenever you were together, his hands were drawn to you like magnets, needing to touch, caress, and possess every inch of your soft flesh.

Almost every time you were around Roman your eyes sparkled with mischief, knowing the effect you had on him. You loved dressing up for him, choosing outfits that showcased your body, especially your generous curves. Tight dresses that hugged your hips and accentuated your waist were your signature style, driving Roman wild with desire.

The sun had just begun to set, casting a warm glow over the room as Roman returned home. He dropped his keys on the hall table with a clatter, kicking off his shoes and padding barefoot into the living room.

Upon entering , his smile widened at the sight that greeted him. You were curled up on the sofa, long legs tucked beneath you and a book forgotten in your lap as you looked up at him, eyes sparkling with affection.

Your hair tumbled over your shoulders, contrasting beautifully with the deep V-neck of the fluffy loungewear set you were wearing, which accentuated your cleavage.

There you are," he said, crossing the room in strides and pulling you to your feet for a kiss. "God, I've missed you."

"Mmm, I've missed you too." You moaned softly as your lips met, arms wrapping around his neck.

You wore no bra, and Roman could feel your breasts pressing against his chest, your nipples hardening at his touch.

As y’all kissed, he slid his hands down your back, savoring the soft feel of your skin, and then lower, grasping a handful of your ass. You giggled, breaking away from the kiss, your eyes sparkling with what could only be lust.

"Roman!" You chided playfully, swatting his hands away. "Behave yourself. I was just about to make some dinner."

"Oh, let me help with that," he said, his eyes never leaving your body as you started to walk past him towards the kitchen. He admired the way your hips swayed beneath your knitted shorts, the fabric hugging every curve.

"You know I love to watch you cook," he added, his voice dropping to a husky murmur as he followed you into the kitchen, pressing up against you from behind as you opened the fridge.

"Is that so?" You asked, a smile in your voice. "And here I thought you just liked to eat."

"Oh, I do," he said, nipping at your ear, his hands sliding up your stomach to cup your breasts. "I love to feast on every inch of you."

You gasped, breath catching in your throat as his thumbs brushed over your already sensitive nipples.

"Roman, we have food to make," you protested weakly, even as you leaned back against him, your head falling back to give him better access to your neck.

"Mmm, you taste as sweet as ever," he murmured, his lips trailing kisses down your throat as his hands continued their exploration.

One hand slipped lower, sliding between your legs, his fingers teasing at the damp fabric of your panties.

"Oh, God..." You moaned, your knees buckling slightly as his fingers found your clit, circling it gently. "We—we can't... Not yet..."

"Why not?" he asked, his breath hot against your ear, his fingers continuing their relentless torture. "I want you now, Yn. I need to feel you around me, those tight, wet walls squeezing me..."

"Roman, please..." You whimpered, one hand holding onto the fridge, the other clutching at his arms as your legs trembled.

You could feel the hard length of his cock pressing against you, and your body craved his, but you knew if y’all started now, you wouldn't make it to dinner.

With a final, teasing stroke, Roman relented, withdrawing his hand and stepping back, his eyes glittering with desire. "Fine," he said, his voice strained. "But we finish this later. I want you screaming my name, Yn."

You shivered at his words, a heady mix of excitement and anticipation coursing through you.

"I always do," you promised, eyes locking with his as you straightened your clothes.

Dinner was a relaxed affair, with soft music playing in the background and candles flickering on the table, casting a warm glow over your plates of pasta and glasses of red wine.

You both talked and laughed easily, sharing stories from your day as you enjoyed the simple pleasure of a home-cooked meal.

But despite the casual atmosphere, an undercurrent of tension and desire thrummed between you, an unspoken awareness of what was to come later that night.

Every so often, Roman's gaze would linger on your body, taking in the way your shirt dipped low to reveal a hint of cleavage, or the way your hair fell over your shoulders, concealing yet tantalizing.

And You, for your part, was equally aware of him, the way his eyes followed your every move, the way his broad shoulders filled out his shirt, and the way his strong, calloused hands moved as he ate and drank. You knew what those hands could do, the pleasure they could bring, and the thought made your core clench with need.

As you both finished your meal, Roman pushed back his chair with a scrape and stood, crossing to the kitchen to put away the dishes. You watched him move, your pulse quickening as you took in the way his jeans hugged his narrow hips and powerful thighs.

"Come here, Yn," he said, his voice low and commanding as he returned to the table, holding out a hand to you.

You rose from your chair, heart pounding, and placed your hand in his, feeling a spark of electricity as your fingers intertwined. He pulled you close, his free hand sliding down to cup your ass, pulling you against the hardness that was already growing insistent at his groin.

"I need you," he growled, his lips brushing your ear as he pressed himself against you. "Now."

You whimpered, your body melting against his, all thoughts of resistance forgotten, hands clutching the sides of his face, pulling his lips down to yours for a hungry kiss.

With a growl, Roman swept you up into his arms and carried you from the kitchen to your shared bedroom.

You laughed, a breathless, excited sound, as he kicked the bedroom door shut behind them and strode toward the bed, laying you down gently on the soft, rumpled sheets.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, his eyes devouring you as he loomed over you, his broad shoulders blocking out the light.

You reached up, tugging at his shirt, and he quickly pulled it over his head, revealing his muscular chest and arms, the light from the bedside lamp casting shadows over his defined abs.

"Mmm" was all you said, as your hands glided over his skin, marveling at the feel of him. "I love your body."

He smiled, a flash of white teeth in the dim light, and leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, even as his hands went to work, tugging at your clothes, eager to reveal and explore every inch of you.

He took a moment to appreciate your body, the sight made Roman's mouth go dry.

"You look incredible," Roman whispered, his voice hoarse with desire.

Soon, you were both naked, clothes discarded on the floor, mouths never leaving each other, hands desperate to touch and feel.

You moaned into his mouth as he pulled you against him, your bare skin sliding against his, nipples hardening as they brushed against his chest.

Roman broke the kiss, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw and neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there as his hands roamed, squeezing and caressing your breasts, your hips, your thighs.

Roman's strong hands grasped your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. His fingers dug into your soft flesh, leaving momentary imprints on your skin.

"I love how you fill my hands," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "So fucking thick and soft."

You let out a soft moan, feeling his fingers gently squeezing and kneading your ass. He loved to play with it, feeling the plump cheeks yielding to his touch. He smacked your ass playfully, enjoying the way it jiggled with each strike.

"You like that, don't you?" You teased, kissing him passionately.

Roman's kisses were hungry, his tongue invading your mouth as his hands continued their exploration.

"Let me see it," he whispered, his voice thick with need. "Let me see that beautiful ass." Getting up off the bed.

You obliged, slowly turning around giving him a full view. You leaned forward slightly, resting your hands on the bed, offering him a perfect angle to admire your curves.

Roman's eyes traced the curve of your spine, down to the soft, round globes of your ass, now exposed and waiting for his touch.

Roman wasted no time, his hands cupping your cheeks, squeezing and spreading them apart. He admired the way your ass filled his hands, the plump flesh overflowing his grip. He delivered a sharp smack, leaving a red imprint on one cheek, then the other, watching as the skin bounced back with each strike.

"Oh, fuck, yes," You hissed, feeling a rush of pleasure and pain. "harder."

Roman obliged, his hand connecting with your ass repeatedly, leaving a mosaic of red handprints on your skin. You moaned loudly, your body trembling with each impact. He reached down, sliding his fingers under you, finding your wetness.

"You're so fucking wet," he growled, his fingers sliding easily through your folds.

You arched your back, pushing your ass towards him, inviting more of his touch.

Roman's fingers delved deeper, finding your sweet spot. He rubbed you firmly, his thumb circling your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"You like it when I touch you here?"

"Oh, God, yes..." you gasped, your head falling to the bed.

"That's it, let me hear you," he encouraged, his voice a husky growl as he added a second finger, thrusting slowly into your wet heat. "Let me know how much you love it."

"Oh... Oh, Roman..." you moaned, your hands clutching at the bedsheets, your back arching as his fingers worked their magic, curling just right to hit that hidden spot deep inside you. "I love it... I love the way you touch me... Please, don't stop..."

"I don't plan to," he growled, adding a third finger, stretching and filling you as he rubbed your clit with his thumb. "Come for me, Yn. Scream my name."

"Roman!" You cried out as your body dropped to the bed as the pleasure coiled tighter and tighter, an electric tension building, sending waves of ecstasy crashing through you. "Oh, God, Roman!"

"Cum for me, baby," he urged, his voice a low, sexy rasp. "Let me feel that pussy squeezing my fingers."

You couldn't hold back any longer. As Roman's fingers worked their magic, you came hard, your body shaking, a chorus of moans escaping your lips. Roman continued to stimulate you, drawing out your orgasm, until you were reduced to a quivering mess, your legs weak and your body drenched in sweat.

As your body shuddered and convulsed, Roman turned you back around and lowered his head, taking a hard nipple into his mouth, sucking and laving it with his tongue as your cries echoed in his ears. Your hands tangled in his hair, holding him to you as you felt the after shocks of your orgasm wash over you, leaving you breathless and trembling.

Slowly, you came back to earth, your body relaxing against the bed, a lazy smile curving your lips as you opened your eyes to find Roman watching you, his eyes dark with desire.

"That," you said, your voice a hoarse whisper, "was amazing."

"We're not done yet," he promised, his voice thick with need. He withdrew his hand from between your legs, his fingers glistening with your arousal, and brought them to his mouth, sucking your essence from them as you watched, your heart pounding.

Then, with a low growl, he hooked his arms under your knees, lifting your legs to rest on his shoulders as he settled between your thighs, his hard length pressing against your wetness.

"You ready for me, baby?" he asked, his voice strained with his own need as he rubbed the head of his cock against your sensitive clit.

"Yes," you moaned, your eyes fluttering closed as the sensation sent sparks of pleasure through you. "Please, Roman, I need you."

With a groan, he thrust forward, burying himself deep inside you with one smooth stroke.

"Ahh!" You cried out, your eyes flying open as you felt herself stretch around him, your body accommodating his size.

"You feel so damn good," he grunted, his eyes squeezed shut as he fought for control, his hips stilled as he gave you a moment to adjust.

"Move, Roman," You pleaded, your hands clutching at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. "Please..."

With a growl, he began to move, withdrawing almost entirely before slamming back into you, his hips snapping forward as he set a relentless pace.

"Oh, God..." you moaned, your head tossing from side to side on the pillow, your breath coming in short gasps as he filled you over and over. "It's—it's too much..."

"It's never too much," he growled, his hands gripping your thighs as he drove into you, his balls slapping against you with each powerful thrust. "You take all of me, Yn. You take every inch."

"Yes..." you whimpered, your body trembling as he pounded into you, the bed creaking beneath them. "I'm trying... Oh, God, Roman..."

"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his teeth gritted as he fought to hold on, his own pleasure building to a peak. "Take it... Take my cock..."

"I'm trying..." you moaned, your nails digging into his skin, legs wrapping around his waist as you met his thrusts, your hips moving in perfect rhythm with his. "Oh, Roman, it feels so good..."

"You feel good," he grunted, his eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm him. "So tight and wet...”

"Yes..." you moaned, your body on the brink again, your walls clenching around him as you chased your own release. "Come for me, Roman... Let me feel it..."

“Mmm not yet” Roman moaned as he pulled out, turning you back onto your hands and knees. “Gotta see that ass clap from behind”

You felt the head of his cock breaching your entrance again, stretching you, filling you in ways only he could. Roman's hands gripped your hips tightly as he began to thrust, his cock sliding in and out of your, wet pussy.

"Yes, fuck me," You urged, pushing back against him. "Fuck this ass."

Roman obliged, his hands leaving red marks on your skin as he guided you onto his cock. He pounded into you, his balls slapping against your clit with each thrust, driving you closer to the edge.

"You love it when I fuck that fat ass, don't you?" Roman growled, his voice filled with primal desire.

"Yes, yes, I do!" You cried out, your body on fire.

Roman's grip tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pounded into you with abandon. He pulled your hair back gently, exposing your neck, and planted wet kisses along your sensitive skin. His thrusts became more urgent, his cock throbbing inside you.

"I'm gonna cum, baby," he warned, his voice strained.

You could feel his cock twitching inside you

With a loud groan, he let go, his body tensing as he emptied himself into you, his hips stuttering as wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through him.

"Roman!" You cried out, the sensation causing your own orgasm to crash over you, your walls milking him as your body shook with release. "Oh, God, Roman!"

As your cries echoed in the room, You and Roman collapsed onto the bed, (more so you collapsing onto the bed and him collapsing onto you) his full weight pressing you into the mattress but not crushing you as he fought to catch his breath, his heart pounding against your chest.

"Wow," you breathed, your hands stroking his back, a lazy smile curving your lips. "That was..."

“Incredible," he finished for you, lifting his head to press a soft kiss to your lips, and rolling over next to you. "You're incredible." Roman whispered, his hands gently caressing your ass as you curled into his side. "I can't get enough of you."

“You can’t get enough of me, or my ass” you laughed, feeling his hands go from caressing your ass to grabbing fistfuls.

“Yes”

The End

Tag List

@whatdoeseverybodywant @trippinsorrows @rollinssection @cyberdejos2 @amandairene88 @loloschive

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Just Friends, Chapter One:

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: E (18+ ONLY, mutual pining, age gap (joel is 56, reader is 34), angst??, masturbation (m))

wc: 2k

joel masterlist | series masterlist

Joel feels weak when he sees you.

That’s the best word for it. Weak. A complete lack of control—of power. Logic and reason are nothing but incoherent mumbles in the background every time you’re in the same room as him, even worse when you look into his eyes and speak his name.

He hadn’t felt this sort of tug towards someone in years, and the unfamiliar sensation of needing to simply see you at least once a day in order to function properly was beginning to consume him. He didn’t know what to do to rid himself of this infatuation, avoiding you was impossible and so was getting closer thanks to that 30-something year old patrol ranger you called your boyfriend.

He watched the two of you together as though it was his job. He watched the way you seemed to keep him at an arm’s length when the two of you were out together, always sandwiching yourself between your friends rather than beside the man you were supposed to love.

He couldn’t help but wonder what the two of you were like in private.

It couldn’t be a very passionate affair, that much he knew. Real passion wasn’t so easily concealed. It was consuming, drawing you like a magnet to your partner, burrowing beneath your skin, creating an itch to be near them—to be touching them. It couldn’t be an affair of passion.

Just now, he’s sat in his usual seat in the corner of the bar, his back pressing to the padded walls of the booth, his hand holding a crystal glass filled with whiskey, his brows drawn together, his eyes locked on the back of your head as you ordered a drink, your friend next to you. Joel wants to stand up, walk over, and offer to buy your drink right in front of him just to see the look on your face.

Would you tell him to fuck off? Or would you say yes?

The laugh you let out in response to something your boyfriend whispers into your ear stops Joel from finding out.

“God, I need a drink,” Ellie sighs as she emerges from nowhere, her backpack being shrugged onto the floor as she sits down across from Joel.

“Tough day learnin’ your ABC’s?” he quips, his tone still flat from the war jealousy was waging inside of his head.

“Ha-ha,” she replies, just as dry. She knocks her knuckles on the wooden table as she watches his eyes drift back to you, now seated at a table just five or so feet away from him—too close for his comfort. Downing his drink, he shifts his eyes back to Ellie in time to catch her chuckling at him.

“What?” he asks, tilting his head at her as though he were begging her not to read him as easily as she does.

“Nothing,” she shakes her head and laughs again before reaching over the table to swig the finger of whiskey left inside Joel’s glass.

“Hey,” he calls as he catches her mid sip, stealing the glass back. “They got rules about kids drinkin’, you know that. You itchin’ for another lecture from Maria about followin’ the rules?”

“No,” she replies. “It’s a bullshit rule anyway.”

“No, it ain’t,” he sighs as your laughter fills the room again, his chest panging causing him to physically wince. “I’m ready to go home. You comin’ or you stayin’?”

“Staying,” she says, grabbing her backpack and setting it on the table. “Have homework to finish and your sad country music being blared through the house isn’t going to help keep me focused.”

“Don’t disrespect my sad country music,” he warned playfully as he stood up with a grunt, finishing the little whiskey left in his glass in one gulp. “I’ll see ya back at home by curfew.”

“About that…” Ellie looked up at Joel with a hopeful smile. “Dina invited me over to spend the night—“

“Dina can spend the night at ours,” he argued, that protective streak of his making it’s usual appearance.

“Dina and I don’t wanna watch you drink and sing along to George Jones, dude,” she replied, frowning up at him until he broke.

“Fine. But you’re back in time for breakfast tomorrow.” Ellie grinned as she nodded at him, his eyes rolling and a chuckle escaping his chest. “Spoiled.”

As Joel starts to make his exit, he stops at the bar to deliver his empty glass and pay off his bill. That’s where you find him.

“Hey,” you start, hoping to conceal your deeply hidden crush on the older man with friendliness. Joel’s head turns to you so quickly you swear you hear his neck crack, his unreadable eyes locking on yours as though you were some sort of apparition he was almost certain wasn’t actually there. “I just wanted to come over. Say hi.”

“Hi,” he replies, choked and unprepared. Clearing his throat, he tips his head towards your table. “I saw you were with your friends, otherwise I would’a came over and said somethin’.”

“You can always come over and say something,” you assure, fighting the urge to bat your eyes at him as you give him a smile. The man whose coat you’re wearing lingers in the back of your mind as you stare at the man you’ve wanted since he arrived.

“How’s the new fence treatin’ ya?” he asks, a smile creeping onto his face as he leans a shoulder onto the bar and faces you. You think back to the weekend he spent building your white picket fence last month, free of charge. The way his arms looked in a t-shirt as he sawed away at the wood still makes you dizzy.

“Well, it’s still upright so…you must’ve done a good enough job on it,” you offer with a smirk, earning the slightest of chuckles. You always wondered why everyone seemed to think he didn’t have a sense of humor, he seemed to find you funny enough. “I, uh, also came over to invite you over to my place tomorrow evening.”

You watch as Joel’s brow lifts with interest.

“Oh yeah? You throwin’ a party or somethin’?” he asks.

“My birthday,” you shrug. “Figured I’ve gone twenty years without celebrating it, might as well.”

“That’s what this place is supposed to be about,” he says. “Doin’ normal things again.”

“Exactly,” you smile, ignoring the butterflies that flutter in your stomach when he mimicks it. “So, can I count you in?”

“Long as you got somethin’ to drink.” You laugh and nod in reassurance. “Well, I’m in, then.”

“Alright, I’ll let you escape before someone else comes up and tries to talk to you,” you offer, reaching your hand over to touch his arm. Joel looks down at the contact before meeting your eyes again, something unreadable lingering in his dark irises that makes you flustered enough to pull your hand away. “I’ll see you.”

“See ya,” he replies, quiet as he taps the counter with his knuckles before turning and walking off. Your eyes couldn’t help but lower to his fist as it hung by his side, clenching and unclenching. With a subtle but deep breath, you turn around and walk back to your table—back to your boyfriend and all of his perfection that bores you beyond belief.

“Why did you go up to him?” Josie, a friend of yours, asks as you return to your spot at the table and reach for your beer to wash down the lingering desire.

“I invited him to my party,” you replied, shrugging as you gave her a confused look. “What?”

“Babe,” your boyfriend, Will, chuckles. “He’s…old.”

“And an ass,” Josie adds. You roll your eyes at them, knowing that neither of them ever had a real conversation with Joel, making their opinion of him mute. “Did he say yes?”

“Yes,” you chuckle, amused by the shock on their faces. “We’re friends!”

“Since when?” Josie asks with a hearty laugh.

“Since always,” you reply with a shrug before continuing, “I helped show him around when he got here since I’m right across the street.” Josie looks to Will and then Will looks to you, a look of amused confusion on his handsome face. “He’s a nice guy when you get to know him.”

“Maybe, but he’s also old enough to be our father,” Will argues. You roll your eyes at the reality of the age gap between you and your secret crush, twenty-two years to be exact.

“There are only so many people our age in Jackson, honey,” you say, irritation thick in your tone. “And besides, just because he’s older means I shouldn’t be friendly to him? We’re just gonna start shunning every person in Jackson above what, fifty?”

“You know what,” Will starts, reaching his hand over to rub your back, his warm touch only making you feel colder. “You’re right. We’ll be friendly to him too. Okay?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, lifting your beer up to your lips, wishing more than anything that the man touching you was someone else.

Joel’s in bed, his drunk thoughts centering around you. Around the way you smiled up at him as though you had no clue that his heart was beating out of his chest. Maybe you didn’t, but how could you not notice his sweaty palms, the nervous twitch of his lips when you forced a smile onto his face?

He was sure he was going to lose it completely when your hand came to rest on his arm. He wanted to run and at the same time wanted to get closer, to feel you too. But, the falter in your smile once his eyes met yours and your hand leaving his arm so abruptly it hurt grounded him back to reality. The one in which you were a taken woman and he was a man twenty years older.

It makes him feel sick when he tries not to think about you, so he doesn’t bother as he reaches his hand over his briefs and grips his swelling girth in an attempt to soothe the throbbing ache there. He grunts as he strokes himself through the fabric, just enough to build himself up slowly.

He thinks of you. He thinks of that weekend he built your fence. He thinks about the way you looked in the sun, the green grass beneath you as you sat out on the lawn and kept him company. He thinks about your legs, bare in the summer heat, your denim shorts cut short enough to make him turn red when you rolled over to lay on your stomach.

As he rubbed his thumb over the now weeping head of his cock, he imagined what it would be like to take those shorts off of you. To lay claim to what lies underneath. He moans as he imagines the sounds he’d pull from you.

Pulling his briefs down enough that his cock was springing free, he licks his hand and grips himself at the base, another choked moan slipping free as his fist glides up and then down again, over and over.

He wonders what you’re like in bed, how you like it, if you’d let him take control or demand it for yourself. It didn’t really matter, he remembers, not when he’d never have the chance of finding out.

When he cums, he groans, his fist stroking up and down, gathering his spend to help ease the glide of his hand until he’s finally had his fill. With a sigh, he lets his head fall back against his pillow, his eyes on the ceiling fan spinning above him.

“Get a fuckin’ grip,” he curses himself.

It doesn’t work.

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[creations-by-chaosfay]

Commission Menu!

I've removed the "Pay What You Want" commission option, though you can pay more than my asking price on any of the commissions. The commission menu itself has been increased though! I had originally intended to open commissions in September, but emergencies happened, forcing me to open them early.

On the menu are:

A set of four quilted magnets or decorative pins.

A set of four coasters, with several options for more coasters as well as insulated batting to make them into hot pads/pot holders.

A single mug rug, with insulated batting as an option. For my shop, I use insulated batting for the mug rugs. For commissioned pieces, it's two layers of cotton batting or an extra $5 for insulated batting.

Due to popular demand, a single serving dining set. This is for a single placemat and matching coaster.

A four piece placemat set. If you would like me to make more placemats for a set, please contact me about this.

A single mini quilt. These range from 18x18 inches to 25x25 inches. They're excellent wall and table decorations!

A single table runner. I'm rather fond of these because of how flexible they are with regards to use. How so? Hang them on a wall, drape over the back of a couch, lay across a car seat, use it on an altar or shrine, etc.

A pine tree wallhanging. These are an excellent alternative to a Yuletide tree. They're hung on a wall and you can decorate it with your favorite pins or buttons. If you would like some decorative pins, I can make those (see the first item on this list). No trees will be cut down, cats won't be climbing up it nor break ornaments, it takes just a couple minutes to set up or take down. Storage is also very easy! Oh, and it can be made with a wide range of colors.

A rag quilt. I have different size options available! These are made using a quilt-as-you-go technique and are very quickly made. Oh, and they're EXTREMELY warm! My house gets very chilly in winter, and the rag quilt I've made for myself works like magic.

Just the quilt top. This is available in several sizes, the largest being twin. This is for just the quilt top. You will need to purchase backing, batting, and either do the quilting yourself or hire someone else. You will also receive all fabric scraps left after the sewing is done.

Please read over the details and don't be afraid to ask questions. If you're a monthly supporter, you will automatically receive a 15% discount, but you have the option to pay more than my asking price should you decide you don't want to use the discount.

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Remember: commissioning me, purchasing anything from my shop, or donating to my goal will earn you an entry into winning a free quilt when said goal is reached.

Commissions close November 1st.

After November 1st, I'll be focusing on making a stack of quick and easy quilt tops to practice free motion quilting. Those quilts will be sold at a steep discount. Once I'm comfortable with FMQ, I'll be making larger quilts again, and these will be listed in the shop.

At some point, I'll take a break. Financially speaking, that's not really an option unless we pay off the last vet bill and the water heater installation. If those goals are met, then yes, I'll take a long overdue and well-earned break.

If you're willing to give me full artistic license and the only input you give is choosing the size range from the commission menu, use GOHOGWILD for a 15% discount. Please know there's a 90% chance it will be a Halloween quilt. Halloween is my favorite month, and celebrating it with quilts is always a pleasure. You are not required to use the coupon code, and there's the option to pay more than my asking price. I just really want to make some Halloween quilts.

Here are samples of my work, some of which you can purchase from my shop here.

[megalony]

You Invited Everyone?

This is an Eddie Diaz request by Anon, I loved writing this I'm so into writing for fluff dad! Eddie at the moment. Any feedback is always appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefanthefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn  @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway

Masterlist

Summary: Chris is very excited about going out at the weekend, so much so that he manages to call uncle Buck at work and tell everyone where they are going.

Enjoy.

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

"Mummy,"

Turning on her heels, (Y/n) looked over her shoulder towards the kitchen where she knew Christopher was. She paused in her ministrations of tidying up the table where all his colours and books were spread out like a crafts explosion had taken place in the dining room.

Her back arched out and clicked into place and she rose a brow when her boy came into view.

Chris slowly walked around the island in the kitchen, one hand brought up to his face where he was biting down happily on his thumb, a cheeky but obscured smile on his face. And in his other hand, he held out the paper she had printed out only this morning which he had been obsessed with since he saw it.

He held the paper out in front of him and padded through to the dining room towards her, giggling loudly when he watched her stand upright and place a hand on her hip.

"And just what are you doing with that, mister?"

"We're going," Was all he could say, muffled around his thumb that he was about to bite through with how happily he was chomping down on it. He shook the paper until (Y/n) reached across and kindly took it from him.

She leaned down to kiss his forehead, ruffling his curls in the process before she bypassed him and headed back into the kitchen, knowing her boy would be hot on her heels. She could hear his hysterical laughter and his stomping footsteps catching up to her since she was purposely walking slower than normal.

"You know we're going on Saturday, baby." (Y/n) reached up on her tiptoes and pinned the paper back to the fridge with the Thomas the Tank Engine magnet Chris had picked out last month.

By chance when she was scrolling online, (Y/n) found an advertisement for an event happening at the park this weekend. There was going to be a dinosaur themed event from eleven until two in the park for anyone to join, free of charge. There would be a bouncy castle, some balloons and games and it was encouraging kids to dress up and bring toys.

With Chris's newest interest being anything to do with dinosaurs, it seemed like the perfect activity for him. He could go on the bouncy castle, he could join in the games like he did at sports day at school and he could show off all the fun facts he had been learning about the 'dino era' with Eddie.

It just so happened to be Eddie's weekend off work too and all morning since Chris noticed the print out stuck to the fridge, he had been in the best mood (Y/n) seen in a long time. He couldn't stop laughing, he was constantly clapping and rewatching The Land Before Time and he had gotten his latest colouring book out about dinosaurs so he could prepare himself.

The only issue was that he had to wait five days and waiting wasn't his strong point. They never told him about plans until the very last minute so if they had to adjust or change things, Chris wouldn't be upset or disgruntled. But (Y/n) knew even if Eddie couldn't end up going this weekend, she and Chris would and it was something for him to look forward to.

"Daddy, tell daddy." Chris tried to reach up to grab the flyer again until (Y/n) swooped down and lifted him up so she could sit him on the kitchen counter.

She stood between his swinging legs, placed her hands down on the counter either side of him and kissed his nose, then his cheek, then his forehead.

"When he comes home from work, you can tell him all about it and see how excited he will be."

"No, ring daddy. We need to tell him."

"He's at work, he can't always answer the phone. Remember, we only call for emergencies." She pressed another kiss to his forehead and leaned down to nuzzle into his shoulder when he looped his arms around her neck. He was trying to butter her up, to get close and make her go soft so he could get his way.

They only rang Eddie before or after his shifts at work, they didn't ring when he was on duty unless it was an emergency like when Chris slipped and had to go to the emergency room.

It was adorable just how excited Chris was about going to this event, but he was desperate to tell Eddie. He wanted to see how happy his dad was going to be when he found out what they had planned for the weekend. Chris wanted to tell everyone, he had already been promised that he could tell Abeula in the morning when they went to visit her.

"This is emergency, call daddy."

"No, pretty boy. You can tell him tonight before bed."

Chris whined and tipped his head back but he was still smiling and when he looked forward at (Y/n) again, he reached his hand out beside her head and made a grabbing fist.

"Mine," He pointed and grabbed towards the flyer.

They both knew what he was going to do. He would carry it round with him all day, keep it safe and stare at it over and over. (Y/n) would have to read it to him at least four more times today and explain what it said and what it meant. She would tell him what would be there, what he could do and where it would be.

"Alright, let me find the laminator."

"Yay!"

He clapped his hands when (Y/n) put him back down to his feet and he followed her like a puppy as she grabbed the paper and backtracked into the dining room again. If he was going to carry it around, which (Y/n) never minded him doing when he was in this type of mood, she was going to have to laminate it. Otherwise it would be drenched in dribble and spilt drinks and food and by the time Eddie came home the paper would be ilegible and (Y/n) would have to print off dozens more for him.

Chris sat next to (Y/n) at the table, watching eagerly as she ironed out the creases in the paper before she carefully placed it in the plastic sheeting. He always found it fascinating when either of his parents laminated his pictures or photos or anything he needed for school. It meant he could bend them and drool and crinkle and eat near them and he didn't ruin anything.

He started to pat his hands down on the table when it passed through the small rectangle heater and he started to laugh when (Y/n) shook it to make sure the creases were out and it was stuck together.

"Now it will last for daddy to see it tonight." (Y/n) handed it over and packed away the laminator while Chris took it happily and trudged through to the living room.

He sat himself down on the floor in front of the coffee table with the paper one side and a dino toy on the other side.

"I need a quick shower baby, can I trust you in here for five minutes?" (Y/n) ruffled his hair when she followed him through and she quickly went onto the tv planner and put on an episode of Land Before Time. It would keep him occupied and (Y/n) knew when the end credits rolled that it was her timer and she would have to hurry if she wasn't ready.

"Yeah,"

Chris would never do anything wrong or bad if (Y/n) had to clean up or go for a shower but she knew his attention span would differ.

If she took a while in the shower and they were home alone, Chris would start rooting through his toy boxes and litter the place to find something to occupy himself with. The last time (Y/n) had taken a while sorting through her and Eddie's wardrobe, Chris had took it upon himself to try on Eddie's uniform and spare pair of boots.

Safe to say when he fell in the boots and sprained his ankle, (Y/n) knew fifteen minutes was the maximum amount of time her boy could be left safely to his own devices.

"I won't be long," (Y/n) kissed his temple again before she headed down the hall to her room to get a change of clothes and a towel from the hamper. It was always easier for her to shower before tea and then after they ate, Chris would have his bath and a story in the living room and when Eddie came home, it would be time for him to go to bed.

A smile lit up Chris's face as he started to rock back and forth, shaking the flyer back and forth to hear the shimmying noise it made when the plastic creased and wiggled.

He wished Saturday was tomorrow so he could get up in the morning and go to the event as soon as possible. He didn't want to wait.

"Daddy…" Chris giggled to himself after a few minutes of watching the episode on tv. His eyes kept drifting to the flyer, he wanted to tell his dad where they were going at the weekend, he wanted to give him the surprise and hear how excited Eddie was going to be.

With his free hand curled up to his face and his thumb between his teeth, Chris looked around him, a cunning grin on his face that would have made for a perfect photo. A sparkle lit up his eyes like a magpie finding a piece of silver when he spotted his mum's phone lying unused on the arm of the chair beneath the window.

He could call his dad and surprise him.

Pushing up onto his knees, Chris shuffled across the carpet and flopped his stomach onto the chair so he could reach up and grab the phone.

He had his tongue between his teeth this time as he shakily swiped his finger across the screen to open it. (Y/n) had quite a lot of games on her phone, one section was the games she liked to play when she got chance, and the other page was for all of the games she downloaded specifically for Chris. If they were waiting in a restaurant or stuck in traffic, she would pass him her phone with a game open ready to entertain him.

But he had never called anyone by himself before. Whenever they called Eddie, (Y/n) got it set up and ringing before she handed him the phone.

"Daddy… daddy…"

Chris jumped back when a purple line lit up the screen and a voice answered. It was one of the apps, the one his dad always used in the car to get the phone to call someone.

"Call daddy. Call daddy." He repeated the mantra a few more times before huffing when the phone didn't do as requested. He clicked on a few apps but none of them were the right ones. Chris started to babble "Call daddy" until the words slurred together and became incoherable.

"Calling Buck." The app suddenly repeated before Chris peered closer and saw Buck's cheesy grin and thumbs up picture appearing on the phone and the dialling tone started to vibrate through the phone. He moved his hand and pressed the speaker button, smiling so wide he could barely see the screen.

Putting his glass of coke down on the counter, Buck shifted his weight off his elbows and stood up when he felt his phone vibrating in his back pocket. There was only a few people it could be ringing him when he was on shift, most of the time it was Maddie or the team ringing and since he was with the team, it was most likely his big sister.

Buck's brows furrowed and his lips quirked when he saw (Y/n)'s face lighting up his screen. He used a recent photo of her and Chris wearing sunglasses and sticking their tongues out for her contact picture in his phone but she didn't call Buck that often. She saw him so much that she didn't have to and things were usually arranged through Eddie.

"Hey, this is a surprise." Buck leaned his left elbow back on the counter when he answered the phone and crossed one leg over the other.

"Buck!"

"Chris? Hey bud, how are you? Can I ask why you're ringing me?" A very cheesy grin lit up Buck's face and his voice heightened a little when he heard his little friend on the other end of the phone. For all intense and purposes, Buck saw Chris as his nephew and he always called him uncle Buck.

He didn't usually call Buck up though, usually Eddie would ring and pass the phone over or the few times (Y/n) called, she would then hand the phone to Chris after having a quick word with Buck. She usually gave him the heads up of why they were calling.

"Mummy taking me out on Saturday!" The excitement was clear in his voice and Buck had to pull the phone away from his ear for a moment so he didn't go deaf.

"Oh really, where is she taking you?"

"Park, Dino Day on Saturday! Bouncy castle, dress up, big games. It's surprise for daddy." He could barely speak he was so happy and his voice had risen an octave or two.

Buck rubbed his hand over his jaw as if to hide his smile when he was the only one in the kitchen.

"That sounds amazing, I'm sure your dad will love it… Chris, does your mum know you've rang me?" He was happy for his nephew, but he was a little uncertain about Chris calling him because he couldn't hear (Y/n) in the background. If she didn't know he was on the phone, it meant Buck had done well teaching him new tricks and how to be stealth and sneaky.

And when a round of giggling and a high-pitched squeal came through the phone, Buck let out a chuckle and tilted his head back.

(Y/n) didn't know.

"You're a sneak, you know that? I think you should let her know I'm on the phone."

"She's in shower. Will you come park on Saturday uncle Buck?"

As it happened, Buck surprisingly did have the weekend off since he had worked the last three weekends in a row. He was supposed to be making plans with Maddie to go out for some lunch and spend some time together… but he could free up a slot in his schedule for his best little friend.

How could he refuse?

"You know what, I think I might be free on Saturday," He pushed himself up off the counter and downed the last bit of his drink, grinning when he could hear another round of laughing on the other end of the line.

"Bobby come too?"

"Give me a second, buddy." Buck held the phone to his ear and jogged over to the stairs. He could see the rest of the team close by the truck downstairs, they were all meandering about waiting for their next call to give them something to do. "Who's free on Saturday?" He raised his voice enough to let them all hear him as he hopped down the stairs with the phone still pressed to his shoulder.

"That depends what you have in mind, Buck." Bobby placed his hands on his hips, a sceptical look on his face. They never knew what to expect with Buck and all of them had learned not to agree until they knew what they were agreeing to.

"Apparently it's Dino day down at the park on Saturday, games and a bouncy castle. Christopher has invited his uncle Buck and the 118 to join him."

He held his arms out at his sides, a proud expression on his face at being the first to be invited to such a prestigeous event. He watched Bobby smirk and nod in agreement, Chimney silently laughed but nodded to agree. How could any of them refuse such a sweet offer?

"I think Denny would enjoy that," Hen nodded as she finished off cleaning the last speck of dirt off the truck. If she didn't get called into the station on Saturday she would most definitely join and bring her son along too. Denny got along very well with Christopher.

"We're all coming buddy," Buck waved his fist and pressed the phone back to his ear, wincing a little when Chris's squeal echoed just a little too loudly in his ear.

"What're you mouthing off about, Buckley?"

Eddie tucked his clean shirt into his trousers and tugged his fingers through his hair as he walked slowly back into the main area of the station. That last call had gotten water and smoke all through his uniform and he couldn't go another five hours in sopping wet clothes, he had to go change into the spare uniform he luckily kept in his locker.

"We're all having a day out this weekend, you included."

"Oh yeah, says who?" Eddie tilted his chin up at Buck and rose a brow. He wasn't free this weekend, he was promised to his wife and son this weekend and nothing was going to change that.

"Your son," A smug smirk flooded Buck's face as he watched Eddie's smile slip down into a frown.

"What?"

"Chris, you wanna tell your dad the surprise?"

Eddie scratched the back of his head, glancing around the station before his chest tightened when Buck held his phone out towards him. Why had (Y/n) rang Buck and not him? Why had she planned something and not told him about it? What had she and Chris been up to since he left this morning?

He took the phone and moved a few steps away, feeling his heart soften at the photo of his family that lit up the screen. It was a change to see that photo and not the ones Eddie had on his own phone. His lockscreen was him with his arms around (Y/n)'s neck, his chin on top of her head and the most beautiful smile he had ever seen on (Y/n)'s face while her hands were holding Chris's shoulders.

Her icon on his phone was a lot different though.

That particular picture was his wife kneeling up on the bed, wearing only Eddie's dark navy work top with her hair fanned out across her shoulders and a smile obscured by her biting her lower lip.

"Christopher?"

"Daddy!"

"Care to tell me what's going on? What have you been saying to uncle Buck?" Eddie moved his free hand to his hip like he would if his son were standing in front of him right now.

"Mummy taking us to park on Saturday, it's Dino day! Bouncy castle and games and I can dress up. Uncle Buck said they coming too. Surprise!"

Eddie could hear his son begin to clap his hands and his hysterical laughter made his heart jump in his chest. So (Y/n) had found an activity for them to do and Chris had decided everyone was going to share in their fun. It sounded like they were all going to have a fun, hectic weekend together. Eddie couldn't remember the last time the team did something together that wasn't running into burning buildings to save someone. And he could spend some much needed time with his family.

"Mummy did well finding that, where is she, can I speak to her?" If he was going to hear his son's voice, he wanted to hear his wife's melodic voice too and double check these details.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Chris, baby who are you talking to?"

Eddie could hear the panic in his wife's voice and it made his brows shoot up and he spun on his heels to look over at Buck. Either Buck rang (Y/n) for something or Chris had found out how to call people on his mum's phone without her knowing and if it was the latter, (Y/n) was going to have to put a lock on her phone.

"Christopher Diaz, did you call Buck without telling your mother?" Eddie's voice was stern but when he saw Buck roll his lips together and noticed the rest of the team start to laugh and cackle, he couldn't fight off his own small grin.

"Baby what have you been doing? I was gone five minutes!" (Y/n) held her hand out and waited for her giggling son to hand over the phone. She saw Buck's picture illuminating up the screen and she sighed. He had been making phone calls without her now. "Buck?"

"No, mi amor it's me. So… what's this Dino day thing me and the team are all coming along to then?"

"You invited everyone?" (Y/n) grinned down at Chris who hid his face in his hands to stop her from seeing his wide smile but he nodded through his hands. Barely able to breathe from how much he was laughing.

Their son was a menace.

[yoitsjay]

Tracker

Pairings: Hunter x Fem! Reader

Summary: you and hunter had a one night stand, and he left you with a child because of it. You never told him, but when you went back to bounty work you ran into each other, and eventually you told him... how will he react?

Warnings: Canon violence, fluff

Word count: 3,265

You had no idea how long you had actually worked for Cid in the past, you weren't contracted but she did give you some exhilarating and high paying jobs. during the clone wars the senate actually gave you most of your bounties, and you would consider yourself a republic bounty hunter, though you held no allegiance to them and that also made you dangerous. But at the end of the clone wars, maybe a month or so later you had to drop from existence on a little backwater planet called Pabu. It was a nice little place, and it was your permanent home, until you had to leave for jobs again… but the only reason you disappeared was because you were pregnant from a one night stand. The other party had no idea, and even if you could reach out, you wouldn't. He didn't need to know, but you remember him vividly.

Tall, tanned And muscular. He had a hard body tattoo resembling a skull, and the skeleton as it traveled down his body. He wore a red bandana, and kriff knows he never took it off… unless it was to tie your hands behind your back but regardless that was one time, the first and the last… and then he left you with a child, the bastard.

So it had been a full 6 months since you had your child, and with all the support you had on pabu you were able to go back to work, knowing your child was safe.

So, you stood in front of Cids parlor, your helmet fastened to your head, having donned your classic armor previously. Nobody knew this but you had Mandalorian lineage, so certain pieces of armor were made if beskar But were formed and painted in a way to make it look nothing like beskar.

Regardless, you were back, and your looks alone sparked fear into those who walked past you. Your mask was not necessarily a helmet, because the back of your hair which was put into a long braid that draped over your shoulder could be seen. But you had two metal bands that were fastened to each side of your temple, and upper cheek, which was strongly magnetized to the mask, which had a voice mod to hide your voice, and was also connected to a small oxygen tank that was clipped to your small backpack, and attached to that was your long ranged rifle, and vibrosword.

You had two blasters in each holster that was strapped to both your thighs, and a few throwing knives were also attached to one other holster, whilst you had a few knives tucked in your boot, or in a hidden holster under your armor plating, and even in your braided hair.

Your armor itself was painted a deep blue with black accents and very faded and worn gold lines in the dips and crevices of your armor, however the thicker Long sleeved undershirt you wore underneath was a dirty cream color, and your pants were a deep brown.

You patted yourself down quickly, nodding to yourself when you recounted everything you had before walking into Cids parlor.

The Bad batch, that is to say Hunter, Wrecker, Tech and omega since Echo was off with Rex, and Crosshair was working for the Empire, were sitting At their usual table, wrecker and omega chowing down on some Mantel mix. Hunter was the first to notice Joe silent the bar suddenly got, but Texh and the others were not to far behind as their attention went to a stranger who walked in, a bounty hunter by the looks of it. To Hunter though, there was a sense and smell of familiarity, and he furrowed his eyebrows watching you walk to Cids office, the door automatics closing behind you. Hunter turned to look at Tech, who also had furrowed eyebrows.

“Why does that Bounty hunter seem so familiar to us?” He asked, typing on his data pad, searching for any info on this bounty hunter. Hunger shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “Not sure…” He trailed off, staring at the door for a few seconds until Tech grabbed his attention by showing him the data pad. “It is Y/n L/n, AKA Cicatrix, she was a very famous bounty hunter for the republic during th-”

“-I know Tech, We've worked with her before, before the empire…” He trailed off, memories resurfacing in his mind, memories he pushed down because he got too attached.

In the meantime, you were talking with Cid, your helmet was off, and now attached to your left hip were similar magnets were sewn into your clothing to hold your mask, and you were getting the best pick of the bounties and jobs… until Cid spoke up.

“Yeah one thing Trixie-”

“-Its Cicatrix” You interrupted, and Cid cleared her throat. “Right, one thing, in order to do this big jobs your going to have to work with a few other people, a group I like to work with… The Bad Batch.” She explained, and you narrowed your eyes, gripping the fobs in your right hand. “The bad batch huh?” You sneered at Cid, before grabbing the fobs. “Fine.” You muttered, fastening your mask to your face once more, and Cid led you out of the office, and towards the bad batch.

Your eyes scanned over each of them, some familiar, most of them were except for one… however when your eyes landed on that man… the one with the half skull tattoo on his face, you wanted to turn and run… However, you stayed put as Cid started speaking some nonsense that you couldn't really bother to listen to, because even through your mask he seemed to know where your eyes were, and he wouldn't let your stare go… that was until you felt someone tug at your shirt.

You quickly looked down, seeing the small blonde child smiling up at you. “Hi! I'm Omega, and these are my brothers, Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker! We've read all about you- well at least I have on Kamino, But your so cool! I read one story about you where you and a Jedi were on a mission and you got separated! And a Rancor came out of nowhere and you wrestled it till you killed it- and-” omega was quickly cut off as Hunter rested a hand on her shoulder. “Omega..” he muttered softly, silently telling her to calm down

You chuckled, thinking back to your own child on Pabu before you knelt down in front of her, and took your mask off, clipping it to your thigh once more. You smiled at omega, and pointed to a big scar on your face. “I didn't get out unscathed that's for sure, the rancor gave me a big scar, And I had to get a new eye, luckily for me I had the credits and the connections so now I have a cybernetic Eye, and I can scan my surroundings for infrared signatures, like other people or animals when it's dark out. It's pretty cool.” You explained, winking at her as your cybernetic right eye flashed blue before settling to your eye colour again. Omega squealed in excitement, turning to her brother, Hunter.

You stood up, glancing at him as he stared at you, before standing up. “We can work together, just like old times.” He muttered the last bit, but you heard him clearly, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes. “I'll leave my ship here, and come with you on yours. You stated, resting your hands on your hips as you took a step back, nodding to Cid. “You owe me a solo.” You stated, before walking to the parlor doors. “Let's get a move on, we only have so much time.” You stated, walking outside as the batch gathered their things.

Once all outside, you started walking with them, omega mainly at your side, asking you questions about your old stories, and your weapons… however as you answered, you noticed the crossbow on her back, and it piqued your interest. “Is that an energy bow?” You asked, and she smiled and nodded. “Yeah it is! Though I'm still learning how to use it.” She huffed, and a soft chuckle left your lips. “Well I could teach you? In my youth I was quite the bow slinger myself.” You stated proudly, seeing how her eyes lit up. She immediately turned to Hunter, who was walking behind you.

“Can She teach me after the mission? Please?” She asked her brother, who stopped walking when she did. You stopped as well, turning to look at him with your arms crossed over your armored chest, a smug look over your face. Hunter gave you a look which you weren't quite sure what it meant, before he looked at omega and sighed. “Fine. I suppose some training can be useful.” He stated, and she cheered before running to the Marauder, grabbing your hand and dragging you with her so she could show you around. You laughed with her, the same hearty laugh that Hunter heard all those months ago…

He sighed, and entered the ship, closing the ramp behind him before making his way to his seat in the cockpit where Tech already was.

Tech glanced over at Hunter, but stared right at his data pad while he spoke. “You should talk to her, statistics show that being honest yields better results then not saying anything at all.” He stated, adjusting his goggles. Hunter grunted in response, glancing back at you and omega as she showed you around. “Maybe…” He trailed off, his eyes trailing down your figure. You were muscular, and fit unlike most women he had been with, however you were a bit softer then the last time he was with you… like something had changed you…

Eventually omega brought you to the cockpit just as you were taking off, and you quickly handed the main tracking fob to Hunter, your clothed finger tips brushing against each other as you handed off the fob. A spark shot through your spine, And you quickly cleared your throat and placed your hand on the back of the chair instead of by your side. “Its on a pretty heavy imperialized planet, so we have to be cautious when retrieving the goods. I did some more research and found a map of one of the facilities it's in… though I do have an idea on how we could stealth this, instead of going in guns blazing.” You suggested, staring at Tech as they both looked at you.

“There are rounds of patrols, two or three troopers at a time. And they circle around this mountain pass-” you explain while pulling out a holo map, pointing your finger at the red dot that indicates the patrol, and then the mountain

“If we land around here, a small group, most likely Hunter or Tech and myself can take out the patrol and switch out our armor for theirs. We put our gear in this little alcove in the mountain, and whoever is left behind can come pick it up so it's safe. Anyway, we complete the “patrol” and get back to the facility, getting in like we were one of them. I can use my tools to get into the control room, where we knock out the guards and then take the data, and get out the same way we got in when the next patrol is about to leave, we tail them, take em out and go.” You explained thoroughly, and Tech hummed at the plan.

“That is… one of the best plans I've ever heard. Hunter? What do you think?” Tech asked, and you glanced over at Hunter, noticing that he was staring at you already, a very small smile curled on his lips. “Very good, I'll go with Cicatrix then Tech and omega can pick up our armor and get back to the ship and be on standby in case anything goes wrong.” He stated, and gestured For you to sit down as they were about to drop pit of hyperspace. You did, sitting down behind Tech and across from Hunter.

Soon enough you were docked at the area you pointed out, it was a secluded little landing area, hidden by the mountain, but it gave you easy access to the patrol route. So once landed, you and Hunter headed out Towards the patrol, staying closer to the mountain side and in the shadows, so you weren't seen. You and Hunter rounded the corner just as a patrol did, and before you could even think of what to do, Hunter pushed you into what seemed to be a larger alcove, but one that could hide you both. However it was a tight space, and you were pressed up against each other… at least the armor made it so you couldn't feel his warmth, except from the hands that now found purchase on your lower ribs. And you could feel that warmth radiating from him. You sucked in a sharp breath through your nose, not looking at him, and instead watching the patrol of two as it walked by. And once they were out of sight you nodded. “Okay let's go” you whispered, and Hunter quickly tore his hands away, and left the alcove, and you followed after, sneaking up behind the troopers before taking them out. You stripped from your armor before donning the troopers armor, making sure your armor was in a neat little stack before placing it in the alcove you were just in. And finally you placed the helmet on your head, but not before tucking your braid up, as if not to give your gender away.

You turned back to Hunter, and he was already done with his outfit change. He nodded to you, and you both made the trek back to the facility. You had completely missed the warmth in his eyes when he had shoved you in the alcove, the contemplation on his face as he was torn between forgetting what he felt, and actually telling you what he wanted to say. You never saw it, and he never knew when he'd actually tell you, and now he wondered if he'd even see you again after this mission was over…

Regardless you arrived at the facility and got in unnoticed. This place seemed less guarded then what you would have expected, and you raised your guard, just in case. Hunter took the lead from then on, leading you to the control room where he stood look out as you started splicing the control panel by the door to open it up. You were going quickly as you could, and you managed to open the door within seconds.

You and hunter walked in, and you closed the door behind you before taking out the guards and workers stationed in this room, leaving it empty and easier to work with.

You quickly sat down at one of the terminals, feeling Hunters presence behind you as you slid a data stick into the computer port, hacking into the network that the imperials used with ease since it was the same Tech used by the republic, and you hacked into the republic networks a lot. Just for security…

Regardless you downloaded the info and pulled it out of the port, standing up and turning to Hunter, tucking the data stick into his belt. you walked to the door, poking your head out to see if it was clear, and you nodded to Hunter, walking out side by side, passing another patrol group, pretending you just got back from your patrol. The plan was working, and you couldn't stop the grin growing underneath the helmet you wore.

This might have been the smoothest mission you've ever been on-

“Hey! Patrolman! wait up.” A voice commanded, and you and Hunter froze before turning around, one of the clone commandos standing in front of you. “You finished your patrol quickly, and you didn't input your report.” He stated, and you sucked In a deep breath, looking at hunter. He quickly spoke up. “Right, apologies sir, we will do that right away.” He stated, saluting, you quickly copied his movements, and the clone commando seemed to buy it before leaving.

A sigh left your lips, and you nudged hunter playfully before the both of you left the facility, acting like the next patrol. And as quickly as you got in, you got out, halfway down the patrol route as the alarms started going off "they found my handy work, about time” You huffed, taking your helmet off and tossing it down the canyon before doing the same with the rest of the white armor you wore, however hunter just tossed his into the same alcove that your armor was in prior, though it had long been grabbed by Tech and Omega.

Before hunter could say anything, you both had reached the marauder, climbing on board where your beautiful armor was waiting. And quickly you strapped it all on again, feeling comfortable with the added weight. Tech then started up the ship, and off you flew, with the info that you needed, though it was encrypted, but that's what Tech was for.

You and Hunter didn't really speak after that, but the atmosphere around you both wasn't… uncomfortable. Just silent. You were back on Ord Mantell in no time, and you cashed in the info and got your cut. You still had a few other fobs, but they weren't as time crunching… and maybe you didn't have to work alone…

Hunter seemed to think the same as he walked up to you at the bar, sitting beside you, silent for a moment before he spoke up, right when you did as well

“I missed you-”

You both said at once and chuckles fell from your lips as you turned to look at him. You sighed, and stared down for a moment before pulling Put a hold puck, sliding it to hunter.

He turned it on, and saw a small child, six months old with thick brown hair already growing from his head, and the same hazel eyes that he had. He looked like hunter, but as a baby of course.

The man turned to look at you, and you sighed. “one year and three months ago we slept together. Apparently my implant had expired the day we had sex and… well… he happened. And to be honest he was the best thing that ever happened to me…” you trailed off, staring at the hologram. “Hunter, I'm so-”

“I'm a father?” He asked, cutting you off. You finally looked at him, noticing the tears welling in his eyes. You nodded, reaching out for his hand, squeezing gently. “Would you like to meet Tracker?” You asked, smiling gently. “You'll be shocked to know that boy has your talents… I hide his toys sometimes, and he tracks my trail to where I put them, I don't know what he sees or feels but- compared to a regular child hes- he's got your senses.” You explained, and Hunter finally looked up at you, before grabbing your shoulders and pulling you into him, his lips landing right on yours. You were tense for a moment, but quickly relaxed onto him as you reciprocated that kiss.

You pulled away, a chuckle leaving your lips. “I'll take that as a yes.” You whispered, resting your forehead against his as he held your hands in his own.

“Yes”

[vindicated-truth]

In another universe, this is exactly how Joowon and Dongsik down the line would be when they finally reunite and finally have the choice to be together.

It's so easy to picture it:

They're having a meal at Jaeyi's, and Jihoon whips out his new polaroid camera; he keeps taking candid photos of everyone gathered around the table, Jihwa's amused exasperation and Jaeyi's laughter resounding in the background.

Jihoon turns to the two of them—and it hits him for the first time that this Dongsik and this Joowon, still sitting together even after all this time, but this time glued from shoulder to hip, not a smidgen of space between them at all, legs touching from hip to ankle beneath the table as they are lost in their own world, just the two of them, conversing in hushed tones as they fill each other's bowls with each other's preferred food, sharing smiles that now seem to come as easy as breathing, the crow's feet in Dongsik's eyes crinkling as Joowon's weighted gaze softens into something so tender and intimate—

And Jihoon realizes, for the first time, that this is how Dongsik and Joowon look like with their burdens finally lightened and the shadows that dogged their every step finally vanquished.

And as Jihoon raises his camera to capture the moment, Dongsik catches the movement out of the corner of his gaze—the reflexes of a detective still very much instilled in him, even after being out of the force for quite sometime now—

And with a full-on grin, Dongsik grabs Joowon to pose for Jihoon's camera, where Joowon is startled into laughter—genuine and bright.

And it makes Jihoon's chest constrict tightly, seeing this kind of happiness that only the two of them can bring out in each other, because Jihoon has never thought he will see it in them—like this.

Later, Dongsik finds Joowon standing quietly in the middle of their kitchen, thoughtfully caressing the photo; Dongsik pads up to him softly, letting his footsteps patter on the linoleum floor to gently alert Joowon of his presence, yet Joowon only sighs against Dongsik's chest when Dongsik sidles against Joowon's back to wrap his arms around Joowon's waist.

Wordlessly, Dongsik watches as Joowon pins the polaroid on their refrigerator with the xiezhi magnet he got Joowon as a gift. Together, they quietly gaze at the growing array of photos pinned around the fridge: little Huimang growing up quickly before their eyes in their photos with Dosoo and Seonnyeo; Joowon's strange expression of both annoyance and fondness as Hyeok joins their gatherings at the butcher shop; the wacky group photos at Gwangyoung's wedding where the rest of the guests were looking at them like they were insane; the photos during Ohsub's promotion as the Chief of Munju station; Joowon’s gobsmacked expeession when Jaeyi laughingly threw eggs at him as Jihwa brandished her barbecue tongs while chasing Jihoon around the lake house where they all had their summer outing in memory of Nam Sangbae.

"What a family we have, Joowon-ah," Dongsik murmurs by Joowon's ear, rustling the hairs by his nape; Joowon laces his fingers through Dongsik's hands and simply holds on.

[nice-deep-breaths]

sometimes you just gotta write weird gentle medkink-praise kink-light hypnosis shit with no characters or any proper plot

it’s under the cut

——

Icy anxiety floods your veins as you lay on the table. The air isn’t much warmer as it seeps through your hospital gown. You try to distract yourself from your pounding heart and the stinging of the IV in your hand by staring at the bright light directly above your head.

Before long, though, your eyes get a reprieve by the arrival of someone at the head of the bed. A masked face looks down at you, their eyes kind and warm as they lock their gaze on you. They seem vaguely familiar, perhaps someone you met earlier before they wheeled you in here, but their name escapes you at the moment.

“Hey there. How are you doing?” they ask, a gloved hand resting on your shoulder. Their voice is equally gentle and sweet, and something about it just hits your brain at the right angle. They seem to genuinely care about your answer. Still, you shrug, trying to keep the feelings of anxiety out of your mouth. You’re quiet at the best of times, but when you’re this terrified, it’s almost always easier to just stay silent.

“That’s okay, I know the feeling.” Their hands are moving just out of sight, fiddling with something, before they return to your field of vision. “Can you look at me for a minute?”

It’s a slightly odd request, but you bring your eyes back up back from where you’d been staring off into the middle distance. You find it easier than you expected, actually, to stare into their gaze. You can’t quite tell what color their irises are, and as you distractedly try to figure it out, they speak again.

“That’s it, honey. Just look at me. There’s nothing else going on that you need to worry about.” Their voice has shifted a little lower in register, drawing your mind to their words like a magnet. “I want you to take a big, deep breath for me. Nice and slow.”

Even though your breath had been coming in short, near-hyperventilating gasps just a moment ago, it’s easy to do as they say. Cold air rushes into your lungs, burning slightly as your body accepts a real breath.

“Just like that. In…and out. Slowly.” Their hand rests on your shoulder again, just for a moment, and their touch seems to soothe your nerves almost instantly. “Each time you exhale, you can feel your muscles relaxing a little more.”

And, sure enough, as you let out your second breath, you feel the tension escape your limbs. The table is still cold and firm as your muscles begin to melt into it, but somehow that doesn’t matter.

“There you go. You’re doing really well,” the voice says. “Deep breath again. In….and out.”

When you breathe, this time, the anxiety seems to seep out of your brain, leaving you feeling numb and just a little bit like you’re floating.

“Perfect. Keep breathing just like that.” They sound more than a little satisfied, and they hold your gaze for another moment before they hold up what you vaguely recognize as EKG leads. “I’m just going to put these on you, okay? Gotta make sure that lovely heart of yours is beating nice and steady.”

You feel a muted pang of anxiety return as, with practiced motions, their hands gently press sticky pads on your chest.

“No, no, no. None of that. Deep breath for me.” Their hand ghosts back up to your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. They hold up a plastic clip, wired to something behind your head. “This is gonna go right on your finger.”

And sure enough, you feel it close around your index finger a moment later. You take another deep breath.

“That’s right. Breathe,” they say, and move to your arm, fiddling with the blood pressure cuff that stayed there from earlier. “Just finishing getting you hooked up.”

As if on cue, you can hear beeping counting out your heartbeat from the monitor next to the bed. They’re back at your head a moment later, fiddling with something else, and then their gaze is back on you. It’s as if they can see into your soul, and you’re not sure if it should be comforting or terrifying. You settle for both.

“Alright, sweetheart. Gonna give you a little oxygen, now, okay? I just want you to keep breathing nice and slow.” You flick your eyes to their hand, and sure enough, they’re holding a big rubber mask, connected to something behind you with corrugated tubing. It hovers over your face for a moment, not quite touching it, before it descends and seals over your nose and mouth.

It’s soft against your skin. You take a shaky breath. The air inside is cool and clean, if not a little tainted with rubber. It’s…confusing, and you can hear your heartbeat speeding up in your ears.

They must be able to sense your unease, because their other hand cups your face, their touch gentle even through the latex gloves. They stroke your cheekbone with their thumb while they tilt your head back so that you’re still looking right into their eyes. The anxiety dissipates again.

“That’s it. Nice and easy,” they murmur, running their thumb over your cheek one more time before letting your face go to fiddle with the machine next to them. “I’m going to start giving you some medicine now. Might smell a little different in a second. That’s normal. Just keep breathing and looking at me.”

Your next breath is sweeter. It’s almost like artificial cherries, not unpleasant, though it’s definitely noticeable. It’s not difficult to breathe.

“Good. Nice, deep breaths for me.” You stare into their eyes. You still can’t figure out the color, exactly, but you can feel the calm radiating off of them in a way that reflects back in your own nerves.

After a couple of breaths, you begin to hear an odd buzzing in your head, your thoughts beginning to thicken and cloud over with something foggy. You somehow feel light and heavy at the same time. Numbness creeps over you.

“That’s it. Getting a little sleepy now,” they croon. Their hand makes its way back to your cheek, stroking down the side. “You’re doing so very well for me.”

Another few breaths, and their words are getting harder to hear as the buzzing intensifies. Your vision begins to distort. You struggle to focus on their eyes in the sea of spinning static.

Their hand caresses your cheek again, before it disappears. “Time to go to sleep, sweetheart. I’m going to give you more medicine. Might smell a little different again.”

It’s an understatement, and you twitch a little and cough as a breath of thick, pungent air passes through your airway. You’d struggle harder if you could, but the numbness is settling deep into your mind.

“Shhh, shhhh, easy. I know it stinks. Almost over, I promise.” Their voice is still so gentle, even as you twitch against the mask. Their free hand holds your head steady, keeping you looking into their eyes as they speak. “You’re safe, I’ve got you. Just relax and let the medicine work.”

The next breath is easier, but you can’t tell if it’s just because you’re losing the ability to care again. Your eyelids are rapidly getting heavier and heavier with each second, and you can barely even move now. You take another breath, and you blink heavily, a vague thought to keep your eyes open crossing your mind.

“Shh. Don’t fight it, sweetheart,” their voice is almost a whisper as they lean a little closer to you. You can only just feel their hand stroke down your forehead. Your eyelids follow the motion, eyes rolling backwards when you try to open them again. Their voice sounds distant. “One more big deep breath for me. You’re going under now. I’ll take really good care of you.”

And, sure enough, your eyes finally drift shut on the next breath. You think you hear them murmur another encouragement, and then you’re gone.

[waywardxwords]

Chapter 5 - Last Names (Taking Chances)

Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.

Chapter Warnings: MATURE CONTENT, please do not continue if you are under the age of 18, language, fluff

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader

Word Count: ~4.8k (this is a doozy, possibly one of the longest chapters I've ever written!

[1] [2] [3] [4]

You had never consumed (nor had you seen someone consume) a burger so quickly before in your life. It was a good burger, but that wasn’t what you could focus on.

When Alice came back to the table to check out–ahem, on–you (but mostly Dean), his gaze didn’t even move from yours. 

“We’ll take the check now, Alice,” he said carefully as he watched you. The way his eyes studied you made you feel naked. It was like nothing else existed in the world but you. Heat climbed your chest in blotchy patches until they formed islands on your neck, your cheeks. The way your heart pounded against your sternum felt so loud, you could hear each beat in your ears. This man was doing something to you, and that was something you hadn’t experienced in too long.

“Here you go, sugar,” Alice gingerly placed the bill in the middle of the table. She watched Dean intently, certainly hoping for maybe one more look into those beautiful green eyes. He glanced quickly with a smile as he fumbled in his pocket for his wallet. He tossed enough cash to cover the meal and the tip on the table, then back to you.

“Thanks, Alice,” he said, without missing another beat. He stood and held his hand out for you to take. “You wanna get outta here?”

Words seemed to fail you for a second, so you just nodded very quickly. Before he could pull you towards the door, he grabbed the grocery bag with the cherry pie you had brought.

“Oh, you forgot to eat your pie,” you murmured as you followed him through the diner.

“I was thinking we might have a different dessert tonight,” he paused at the door as his eyes looked over you once more. You realized he was asking if that’s what you wanted, too. Yet again, all you could do was nod.

Dean’s fingers laced through yours as he led you across the parking lot. The rapid beating of your heart hadn’t slowed, but there was a brief moment you felt the pad of his thumb brush the top of yours to your knuckle and back that made your heart skip. 

After a second or two, he had spun you so your back was pressed against his back passenger door. The sound of the grocery bag rustled as he tossed it into the front passenger seat and turned his attention back to you.

You mentally (and physically) gulped.

The way his eyes searched your face one last time, the way his hands cupped your cheeks. It was electric, or maybe even more magnetic. Every time you lost contact with his skin, you craved more. It was as though there was this pull between you that kept drawing you back. 

“God, what is it about you?” He breathed the question, and you couldn’t blame him. You had been wondering the same about him. How you couldn’t stop thinking about him after your random encounter in Atlanta. Or the way you couldn’t sit still long enough to meet him in Salina the night before. And now tonight–the way you couldn’t compose yourself after he started blatantly flirting with you.

“Ever since you kissed me last night,” you tested your bravery as your eyes moved over his lips and noted how they glistened in the yellow glow of the street light he had parked under. “I’ve wanted more.” You looked back to his eyes just long enough to see the shadow of his lashes as his lips curve up in a smirk.

After his gaze moved from your eyes to your mouth once more, his lips pressed against yours and moved slowly. 

Your hands found his wrists as he still held your face. He moved one hand down to wrap behind you so you were caught between him and his car. The way his body blocked over you made your head spin. Dean tilted his head a bit to get a better angle, and you felt his tongue gently move over your bottom lip. Without wasting another moment, you welcomed him inside.

The skin of your back felt cool as it pressed against the metal of his car and the glass window, but there was warmth where his hand held you–pressed against your lower back carefully, but strategically to apply just the right amount of pressure so you could feel every inch of his chest, his hips, his thighs…

There was a pause from him and the sound of your kiss ending echoed in your ears. You searched his eyes for a moment, and you saw hesitation. 

“Maybe we should slow down a little bit,” he half-heartedly chuckled as his eyes fell over you. 

“Dean?” You made sure your eye contact with him was solid so he knew you meant it. “I live the most mundane life. If you looked up the definition of boring, my life would be next to it as an example.” Dean laughed softly but brought his fingers up to brush a strand of your hair back that had blown freely with the wind. “Meeting you has been one of the most serendipitous things that’s happened to me, I think. I want this. I want you.”

Another moment passed before Dean’s lips were back on yours, but more slowly this time; purposeful. 

“Okay, then,” he said softly as he broke away once more, the lowness of his voice sent another shudder below your skin. “Serendipitous.” He repeated before he kissed you once more. The word sounded like magic as it rolled off of his tongue.

His hands moved more freely now as they both gripped your hips. His thumbs looped in your belt loops as your hands roamed his chest. 

“Can we go to your place?” You asked, breathlessly. You were even slightly surprised at your forwardness, but you didn’t let it stop you. His eyes darted between yours and you sensed hesitation.

“I can’t, my, uh, my brother’s there,” his answer sounded hesitant, but you were distracted by the way your heart pulsated in your chest. 

You nibbled on your bottom lip for a moment as you tried to think of a solution. The fire in the pit of your stomach didn’t help, but instead urged you to come up with something. 

Dean quickly opened his passenger door once more and held it open for you. “I’ll find a place,” he motioned. There was a sense of giddiness that overtook you as you slid into the Impala. It was something about the recklessness that you never allowed yourself to encounter, and the man practically jogging around the front of the car. The smell of leather of the seats mixed with Dean’s faded cologne, you could hardly contain yourself. This man was like a drug, and you were officially hooked. 

He pushed the key into the ignition and the engine roared to life. You couldn’t help but slide over the bench seat so you were pressed to his side. As he put the car into drive, your lips found the soft spot just below his ear lobe. Your lips smoothed over the stubble covered skin, and your teeth nibbled gently. 

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he practically hissed through his teeth. “You’re makin’ me crazy, here.” A gentle chuckle rumbled in his chest. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” you pulled back but felt a different kind of heat pull to your cheeks; this time, it was slight embarrassment. “I’m sorry, just something with you…this just feels so different.”

“Oh, you mean you don’t usually jump your date?” Dean eyed you with a glance as he drove, but a small smile formed on his lips. 

Ugh, the embarrassment took over (after your insides tingled a bit at the way he said ‘date’) and you pulled your hand over your face. 

“Hey, now,” Dean took one hand off the wheel and gently pulled yours away from your face so he could see you. “Don’t go hiding on me. There’s nothin’ wrong with this, sweetheart. I was just kidding.” His words were gentle, but you could still hear the roughness in his tone as his blood pumped through his body from your closeness to him. “I just want to be very clear—whether anything happens tonight or not, I’ve had the best night I’ve had in a long time.”

The car was filled with darkness as he turned down a road with limited street lights. But in the glow of the moonlight, you could see the white of his teeth and shadows of his features that told you he was telling the truth. 

“Me too, Dean,” your words came in a whisper. “But to answer your question,” you cleared your throat and looked down at your hands now in your lap before you continued. “No, I most definitely do not jump my dates. Especially ones who I don’t even know their last name.” You laughed, the song Last Name by Carrie Underwood played for a moment in your brain.. 

“Ha,” he laughed out loud as stole another glimpse at you before looking back at the road. “Fair enough. And it’s Winchester.” He answered with a smile. Winchester, you made a mental note.

You offered up your last name before the next question came. “Do you…do you regularly seduce your date on the…” you contemplated. What date was this, exactly? “Second date?” It came as two questions, really. The first being if Dean did this on a regular basis; the second questioning which date this was, exactly. 

Dean turned into a parking lot of a quaint building. As he pulled into a parking spot, he answered. “Well, first of all, no. I, uh,” he cleared his throat somewhat uncomfortably as he continued. “I haven’t been in this kind of situation in…a while.” That was a relief. “And secondly, this is our third date, not second.” You did the mental math and realized he was kind of right, counting when you met in Atlanta. “Technically it could be our fourth…dinner in Atlanta and then hanging out in the hotel.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Oh, come on—if we’re counting that as our first date, it definitely only counts as one,” you smirked, which caused Dean to chuckle again. 

“That was the longest first date I’ve ever been on,” Dean had turned his body so he faced you now. 

You contemplated that. “Huh, ya know, I think it was the longest first date I’ve ever been on, too.”

“See? It should count as two,” Dean winked. His fingers found yours on what little slice of seat was left between the two of you. “In all seriousness,” he glanced down at your hands where your fingers melded together. “This is a bed and breakfast. I’d love to spend the night with you here, even if that means just watching old horror classics and talking like we did in Atlanta.”

His words brought a wave over you that you managed to wade through. It was different. While you hadn’t been with anyone in a long time, you were still used to a different pressure with guys pre Dean. He wasn’t like the others, and that was clear. 

You nodded just as Dean brought your hands to his lips and left a soft kiss. “Good,” he gently dropped your hands and turned to open the driver's side door. You scooted back over to the passenger door and opened it to step into the cool Kansas air. Dean waited just in front of the Impala for you and smiled as you approached, with a reach for your hand. 

Being with Dean felt easy; freeing, almost. The two of you walked through the front door of the bed and breakfast and smiled at the older woman behind the counter.

“Oh, hello!” She beamed. “Checking in?”

“Wanted to see if you had a room, by chance,” Dean fished for his wallet out of his back pocket and you took in the surroundings. This place was charming. It was an older building, but had modern updates. Dean paid for the room and the woman handed over the key.

“Check out is at 11am, but we can make an exception for later, if needed,” somehow you thought you saw a wink in there. Jesus, all the women love him, the thought played through your mind as you smirked with a shake of your head. Maybe it wasn’t just you who had a magnetic pull to the mysterious Dean Winchester.

“No problem, thank you so much,” Dean smiled as he took the key and turned towards the stairs with you. The woman watched as you ascended, probably wondering where your luggage was, which made your cheeks warm again.

“I forgot, I have to be at the airport in the morning. I’ll have to leave by four if I want to make it,” you whispered to Dean as you approached the door with the number 7 on it. 

“Ah, shit. I didn’t think about that,” Dean hesitated for a moment. “It’s only about 9 now. You wanna stay, or head back? I don’t mind either way.” He gave you another out, just in case (which you appreciated).

“No, no,” you shook your head and took the key from him. “I’ll be fine. Who needs sleep anyway?” You slipped the key into the doorknob and turned. 

The door opened to a quaint room—light gray walls with white molding. There was a king-sized bed up against a wall facing a flat screen television. Another door opened up into a beautiful bathroom with white marble tiling and a glass shower with a small vanity. 

“This is so nice,” you muttered as you took in the room. It felt elegant and like something you wouldn’t find in Lebanon, Kansas. 

“It really is,” Dean took in the surroundings, as well. “I’ve always heard good things.” He moved to pull his leather jacket off to reveal a dark green t-shirt. 

Your eyes traveled down his torso—the way it formed to fit every muscle in his chest, and the way it clung to his biceps. You’d be a remiss if you didn’t acknowledge the way it took your breath away. 

“So, what’ll it be? Horror movie? Comedy? I’ll even suck up a chick-flick if that’s what you’re feelin’,” he had reached for the remote but his eyes were on you; you could feel it even before you turned to see it for yourself. 

This is crazy, you barely know the man. But you felt like you did. You knew of the things he had been through; the pain and trauma. You knew he had kind eyes–sometimes a little mischievous as they practically undressed you in the diner.

“Dean?” Your eyes watched him closely as you stepped towards him. He seemed hesitant, maybe. A little unsure of what your intentions were. 

“Hmm?” He hummed back and you noticed he rocked on his heels for a second. 

“Kiss me?” It came out as a question, though you had hoped it’d be a clear statement. 

His eyes darted from your gaze to your lips, then back once more. And then his lips were on yours again, this time more intense than the last. It felt as though he had given you every opportunity to change your mind, and upon realizing you hadn’t, he kissed you in a way you truly felt you had never been kissed before. 

You took the lead this time and let your tongue move across his bottom lip. Almost instantly, his mouth opened and allowed you in. Tangled breaths mixed between you as Dean moved backward with his hands pulling your hips until the backs of his legs hit the bed. 

There was a brief separation as your eyes moved between one another, and then just as quickly, Dean pulled the hem of his shirt up until it was over his head. That was where you froze—your eyes traced from his freckled shoulders, down his chest, to his abs and landed where his jeans were buttoned. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” There was a teasing tone to his voice as you caught his eyes once more. 

Your tongue darted out to lick your lips quickly, and you managed a nod. “You are…” words failed you as you tried not to stare. There was an interesting tattoo on his chest–it almost looked like a sun, but you weren’t sure. Your eyes were glazed over with need.

“Your turn,” his words sent a shiver from the top of your spine to the tips of your toes. Your teeth instinctively found the inside of your bottom lip again. 

Dean’s fingers were quick to settle below your chin, his thumb gently pulled down below your lip to release it. 

“It makes me crazy when you do that,” his voice was so low and gruff. He pulled your blazer down off of your shoulders until it fell to the carpeted ground below your feet. Your fingertips found the hem of your blouse and pulled it over your head. It wasn't until then that you realized how hard you were breathing, as the tops of your breasts rose and fell. 

Just as insecurities about your body began to drift back into your brain, you pushed forward to connect your lips to his. He faltered only for a second before he welcomed the kiss, his fingertips working quickly on the clasp of your bra behind your back. 

The cool air nipped at spots on your skin that had been covered before. Dean pulled away for a moment to take it all in. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” his chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath he took. 

With the palms of your hands, you pressed against his chest so he fell back on the bed. He leaned back on his elbows with a grin across his face and you swore you could see a spark in his eyes. 

“C’mere,” he urged, and you knew he didn’t have to tell you twice. You moved so you were on top of him, planting kisses on his lips, his cheek, his neck. You felt the slight swell of your lips as it scratched upon the rough stubble on his jaw line. 

Dean wasted no time in rolling so you were underneath him, which elicited a small giggle from you. 

His fingertips traced from your cheek, down your neck, to your collarbone. Then the top of your breast, until his thumb was strategically placed over your nipple where he rubbed until it sprouted into an even harder bud than it already was. 

“Dean,” it came as a hiss. Your eyes had closed so tightly, you couldn’t even see the warm yellow glow from the table lamp. The soft cotton sheets pooled between your fingertips as you clutched for some stability. 

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, sweetheart,” his lips replaced his thumb and you thought you might explode. His hand moved down your stomach, cradling your side smoothly as he continued his path until he reached the waistband of your pants. Seemingly expertly, he maneuvered his fingers until you felt the pop of the metal button being released. 

When his hands urged your hips upward, you complied. You lifted your hips so he could shimmy the pants off of your hips until they collected near your ankles. One kick was all it took to send them to the carpeted floor. 

Dean kneeled up on his knees as he undid his jeans painfully slowly, you felt. Patience wasn’t in the cards for you, so you sat up and moved your hands over his to undo them quicker. You didn’t miss the smirk across his face or the way his eyes bore into you as you worked. 

Before he discarded his jeans, he reached into the back pocket for his wallet and retrieved a square foil packet. 

Still on his knees, Dean eyed your burgundy panties and traced the small trail of wetness he found there with his thumb, causing you to moan out again as you tried to writhe against his hand. 

“You’re already so ready for me, sweetheart,” he crooned just as he reached up to the elastic waistband and gave another tug. 

There was no more room for insecurities; you were already too far gone. As Dean slid the panties down your legs, you felt the length of him against your knee. 

“You seem pretty turned on yourself, Mr. Winchester,” you attempted your best flirtation back. 

“Oh, and then some, Atlanta,” he breathed as his fingers found your folds and smoothed over them. The back of your head dug into the mattress as his fingers worked you over. 

A fire burned deep in the pit of your belly, and the only person who could extinguish it was Dean Winchester, you were sure of it. 

He slipped his index finger in and simultaneously continued circling your clit. Your fingers released the death grip on the sheets and tangled in his short hair. With the other hand, you traveled down Dean’s chest until you found what you were looking for. You moved your hand along his hardened cock under the waistband of his boxers, allowing your thumb to smooth over the tip. 

“Jesus,” he murmured as you moved, his fingers matching rhythm with your hand. 

Dean positioned himself over you again, his lips taking yours in a hasty kiss. The feeling of him pressing in all of the right places, paired with his lips on yours and the feeling of him in your hand, you thought you may combust. 

“More,” was all you could muster out between the trail of his lips, but it seemed like he didn’t have to be told more than once, either. 

He leaned back and tore into the foil packet with his teeth before removing the condom and rolling it onto his cock. 

Goosebumps trailed your skin as you watched, and you couldn’t help but take your bottom lip captive between your teeth once more. 

“What’d I tell you about that lip?” Dean moved over you once more as he settled between your legs and pulled your lip down with his thumb. Then, he dropped the volume but his voice rasped, “That lip drives me crazy.”

Your eyes met and just before he entered you, you quipped back. “Show me.”

It was 3:44 when Dean tilted his head to glance at the neon green numbers on the nightstand. You felt his groan rumble through his chest where your head was planted as you traced his freckles. 

He dropped a quick kiss to your hairline. “We gotta get you back to your car, sweetheart. You have a flight to catch in a few hours.”

Your groan matched his as you buried your head in his chest, hoping that maybe if you did, you could stay there forever. “I don’t wanna.”

That elicited a chuckle from him. “Trust me, if we could stay like this, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Dean had extinguished that fire in your belly, but then relit it. And extinguished it again…and then once more in the shower. “I know, I know,” you grumbled as Dean reluctantly pulled away and swung his legs over the side of the bed. 

“Back to reality,” he chirped with a quick smack to your ass. 

“Hey!” You laughed as you turned towards him, your breasts exposed. 

“Goddamn, woman. You gotta get dressed before you miss your flight,” he turned away to gather his clothes.

The Impala roared to life as Dean drove you back to your car parked at the restaurant. You sat similarly to how you did on the way to the bed and breakfast—pressed against his side, his fingers interlocked with yours tracing small patterns upon the top of your hand. 

It only took a few minutes to get back to where your rental car was parked at Jiffy Burger. It was almost four o’clock in the morning and your body was tired, but your adrenaline was still pumping. You didn’t want the night to end. 

Dean cut the engine as a sigh passed through his lips. “I hate how late it is and how far you have to go. You sure you don’t want me to follow you back to Salina?”

“I’m sure, Dean. It’s late, or early I guess, but I’ll be fine. Tonight was well worth it. Besides, I’ll just sleep on the plane,” your lips found his cheek for a quick kiss.

He groaned. “I hate that you’re leaving.” He sounded genuine, and you had to admit you felt the same. 

“I know, but it gives us something to look forward to. For next time,” your teeth found the inside of your lip again, but Dean caught it with his thumb quickly this time. 

“Guess I’m gonna have to get comfortable flying, huh?” He smirked before he pulled you close for a kiss. 

As you both got out of the Impala, you walked slowly to your rental where he pulled you in once more. It was a kiss you wouldn’t forget, that was certain. 

“Might as well sign up for a frequent flier program now,” you whispered with your eyes still closed. 

“Does that get me an invite to the Mile High club, too?” He teased, a laugh escaped him as you poked his side. 

“Only if I’m flying with you,” you half-teased back as you reached back to open the driver’s side door. 

“I’ll fly every goddamn day if that’s what’s waiting for me,” he wiggled his eyebrows as you lowered the window and he leaned through on his forearms. 

“Bye, Dean,” it came out in a breath as you pressed your lips to his once more. 

“Bye, sweetheart. Call me when you get there,” it wasn’t a question. 

“It’ll be like, six AM. You should be sleeping by then,” you said as you fastened your seatbelt. 

“I won’t be able to sleep, trust me,” his lips pulled up in a small smile before he kissed you once more. He ran his hand down the side of your face and pulled away. “See you soon, Atlanta.”

“You better,” you called back as you took one last look at him before you put the car in drive. 

“Drive safe,” you heard him call out, just as you eased on the gas. 

The two hour drive hadn’t been as brutal as you expected. There wasn’t any traffic, and Dean ended up calling you thirty minutes in, just to check in. 

He kept your mind alert by talking about anything and everything. What your family was like, if you had any siblings. You told him that you were an only child, but you felt like you had a sister in your best friend, Jen. He told you about his brother, and the pranks they’d pull on each other. 

Before you knew it, you were already back in your hotel parking lot. 

“I’m here, Dean,” you murmured as you disconnected your phone from Bluetooth and pulled the device to your ear. 

“Good,” his voice was gruff—he could fib all he wanted, but you knew he was exhausted. “Thanks for coming all this way to see me. I really, really enjoyed tonight.” 

Your cheeks rounded as you couldn’t fight the smile that came from his words. “Me too, Dean. Get some sleep. I’ll text you when I land.” 

“Night, sweetheart,” and with that, you both hung up. 

You knew Jen would be waking up right about now, so as you gathered your purse and climbed out of the car, you sent her a quick text. 

You’ll never guess where I’ve been all night…

You fished out your hotel key and headed for the lobby. Just before you got on the elevator, your cell buzzed. 

Jen All night?! Bitch, it’s 6am. Have you not slept?! 

Before you could even type back, another came through. 

Jen NO YOU DID NOT. Mysterious Dean?! Airplane man?? Who are you and what the hell did you do with my best friend? Tell me you at least got his last name before you did the deed. 

The elevator dinged as you reached your floor. You typed back as you walked the short distance to your room. 

Yes ma’am, I did. He’s amazing. He’s kind and funny and sexy and god, it had been way too long. I’m proud of myself ;)

As your door clicked open, you sighed. You’d have to leave shortly for the airport, but you had a few minutes to spare. 

Jen Well good, I’m happy for you. But you should still Google him…just in case. You never know these days. 

You didn’t feel like you needed to Google Dean, but at the same time, there was a sense of yearning to know all about him (and who didn’t have an online footprint?). 

As you picked at your cuticle, you sat down in front of your laptop and opened up Chrome. 

“Dean Winchester”, you typed and hit enter. 

And as the page loaded, you did a double take. Then, a triple take. 

Your heart plummeted into your stomach and you felt like you might actually vomit. There were so many headlines, but the top one was enough, paired with a mugshot that matched his face: Suspected Murderer, Dean Winchester, Found Deceased

A/N: SURPRISE! I've been bit by the writing bug and I couldn't help but post this early. Mostly because after this chapter, I don't feel right making you wait a week to see what happens next. Sorrrry for the cliffhanger. <3

Chapter 6 will be posted on Thursday!

Chapter 6 Preview:

Whiplash. It was the only way you knew how to describe going from having, what you would describe as the best night of your life, to spiraling down to the worst feeling you had ever felt. 

Jen was the only person you knew to call—she knew you and knew how boring your life was (and how long it had been since you had even looked at a man, let alone sleep with one). 

“This feels really, really dangerous,” you could tell by her tone that she really didn’t know what to say. 

“No shit, Sherlock,” you wanted to cry but you couldn’t even get tears to fall. You had never been in shock before, but you assumed it might feel something like this. “What do I do? Call one of those police departments? The FBI? …Homeland Security?” The thoughts were racing. 

“Take a breath,” you heard her take one at the same time, and you followed suit. “He didn’t hurt you, right? Force you to sleep with him?” 

“God, no,” you plopped down on the uncomfortable mattress and rubbed your temple. “I practically threw myself at him. It was…” your mouth couldn’t say what you felt. It had been amazing, ‘best night of your life’ material. But you couldn’t say that now. Not after what you had read. 

“Maybe the articles are wrong? Maybe there’s more to it than what you’re reading. Oh! Maybe he’s in the witness protection program?” She tried to rationalize. But you had already done that before you called her. 

“He wouldn’t have used his old name, Jen,” your words were so soft, you weren’t sure if she heard them. 

“Shit, you’re right,” she took a sip of her coffee. “Listen. Just go to the airport, block his number and fly home. We will work through this together. Don’t call anyone yet. This sounds like something you don’t want to get mixed up in, babe.” 

You nodded at her words and felt the first wrench of emotion in the back of your throat. “I’m worried I already have.” 

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[dehydrated-turtle]

//warnings// 16+, nsfw, mdni

//contents// Dick Grayson x Reader, trans reader, Dick Grayson smut, period blood, period blood in a kinky way??, trans male reader, period sex

//synopsis// Dick is legit the best boyfriend because he brings you snacks and and offers to help get rid of your cramps - wc: 1.4k

//on ao3//

Dick Grayson is the type of boyfriend to have the urge to help at all times. He needs to know you are ok. He will do anything at all to make sure you are 100% comfortable. If you’re on your period and feeling especially gendered, the world's best boyfriend is on the case. He knows that one of the most efficient ways to get rid of cramps is an orgasm. 

“Hey, honey.” he slowly walks toward you, all cuddled violently into the duvet, “How are you feeling?” With his hand rubbing your back, all he can get out of you is a groan and a little shuffling.

 “I got you a slushie from the corner store and a chocolate bar. Thought you might need a snack.” He places them both on the bedside table and crawls underneath the covers to spoon you. He snakes his arm around your waist and slips his hand under the waistband of your sweats just to hold your swollen stomach and hopefully soothe the cramps. He lightly kisses your exposed neck while gently massaging your tummy. 

“I know what can get rid of these cramps. I did some research.” He whispers into your ear before kissing the skin just below it. 

“Mhm, and what would that be?” 

“An orgasm.” He says, matter-of-factly. 

He reaches his hand down further in your pants, dipping his fingers briefly into the pool of blood that had been collected by the pad in your boxers. He slips his hand back out and licks the remaining blood off his fingers while you stare in awe, now dripping in more ways than one. 

“You gonna let me fuck the pain out of you, Honey?” He sounds so sweet while talking so dirty. His remark renders you speechless. “C’mon, I need you to say yes. Consent is key, my pretty boy.” 

“Yes…” you say, barely even a whisper. 

“I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you.” He teased.

“You dick… I said yes.” 

“That’s more like it.” 

He turns you over onto your back and straddles your waist before taking his shirt off and discarding it to the floor beside the bed. You just couldn’t help it but touch his toned abdomen while his arms were lifted, tracing down the sides of his body and to his hips. You note the growing bulge underneath the fabric just above your own pelvis, smiling at how close you are to him. 

He gently brushed his fingers along your jawline to lead your gaze to his own, sparkling blue. He leans down to connect his lips to yours and like magnets they fell perfectly into place. He started to grind into your hips ever so slightly, pulling a quiet moan out of his throat spilling over into your mouth. He lets go of your lips and peppers little kisses down your jaw and to your collarbone before carefully sliding his hand under your shirt. 

“Is it ok if I take this off?” He says, tugging at the hem. 

“Yeah, yeah sure.” You say lifting your torso slightly so he can lift the fabric over your head, revealing your scars. The two of you have been over boundaries and limits regarding your own gender complications but you have always been open to anything. So, Dick knows it's ok to touch your scars, he loves them. He thinks they make you even more manly and “rugged” as he says. 

He kisses his way down to your right pec, taking your nipple into his mouth and making sure to be gentle because god knows they are sensitive . He lightly traces your scars with his thumbs, sending shivers of pleasure and the warmth of reassurance throughout your entire body. A soft whimper escapes your mouth as your hands go to play with Dick’s hair. 

He lifts his head up to look at you, handsome and whimpering for him and he hadn’t even done anything yet. He started to shimmy his way down further and pull at the waistband of your sweats. You lift your hips to allow him to slide them down your thighs along with your boxers. The cold air on your recently very warm folds is almost unwelcome but exciting because you knew what was going to happen next. 

“Oh wow, look at the massacre that went on here. Looks like that scene in the shining with the elevator.” He slips a finger between your lips, pushing it slowly inside as you moan feverishly, not even given a minute to laugh at his joke. He carefully adds another finger and starts to pump, hitting your g-spot everytime. 

“Di–ICK OH FUCK.” You almost screamed as he took your cock into his mouth, sucking and licking wildly. He knows exactly how to please you and executes it perfectly every time. Your hands fly down to meet his hair, pushing him down further which he does not mind. He reaches a hand up to your stomach in an effort to soothe you and your remaining cramps as you relentlessly squeeze his head with your thighs. You could feel the heat bubbling up and ready to spill over at any moment. 

“Oh, Dickie, I-I’m gonna cum!” you whine with your head thrown back against the pillows. He can feel you clench around his fingers as you crash through your climax and your stomach spasm with his other hand still resting on it. He gently and slowly laps at your sensitive cock through your high before finally letting go, your thighs still shaking. 

“Good boy… How are your cramps now?” he says, kissing your stomach where your uterus should be. 

“So much better, you were right.” 

“I’m always right… now, I promised you a good fucking, didn’t I?” 

You chuckle slightly as you watch Dick struggle to pull his pants off, like a true loser. It’s adorable though, after that smug line. He eventually gets them off, revealing his rock hard dick, already dripping with precum. He pumps his length a couple of times as he lines up with your entrance. 

“Are you ready, my pretty boy?” 

“Please…” 

He slides in with monumental ease, making sure to go slowly due to the hyper sensitivity of being on your period and having just cum. He eases into bottoming out, hitting your cervix making you moan, blatantly. He starts his thrusts slowly making sure you enjoy every bit of it with every fiber of your body. 

He held himself up with an arm beside your head which turned you on even more, him being so close yet so far. You could feel the heat coming off of his body and the sweat growing on his back as you trail your hands along it. 

Breathy moans and the gentle slapping of skin fill the room. The smell of sex lingering and will most likely linger for a few more hours afterward. The sharp twang inside of you panging every time Dick made a thrust, eliciting your now elusive climax from your depths. With a few more deep, onslaught movements, your high came crashing down. Inside of your thighs shaking and spasming while Dick fucks up into you, still. He’s so close though, so very close. 

There it is, the white streams, rivers of cum ebbing into you. No worry about protection because there’s no risk with you being on your period (of course please still use protection stds are not a joke kk byee). His dick jerked inside of you, spilling out more cum while he lazily thrusts a few more times, resting his head onto your shoulder. 

“Oh, I feel so much better, Dickie.”

“Glad to hear it…” He pants, out of breath and moaning slightly as he pulls out. “You always feel so good.” 

“Glad to hear it.” you say with a smile and a chuckle from both of you. Dick collapses beside you with a sigh. His leg over yours and grabbing at your hand just to hold it before he sat up slowly and walked to the bathroom to get a damp cloth and clean you up. Gently wiping your folds and inner thighs with the cold fabric. He hands you your boxers back as well as a clean pad. You run to the bathroom to take a piss and apply the new pad then hurry back to bed. 

Cuddling into Dick’s chest, on top of him with your leg over his and taking a deep breath of his scent, charged with sex and lingering pheromones, the best smell in the world. 

[strangerslxt]

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Devil In Disguise

“You look like an angel.”

“Walk like an angel.”

“Talk like an angel.”

You hummed along with the melody softly as you did your usual afternoon run around the block.

Head phones on your ears and Walkman safely tucked into the pocket of your polyester shorts, you jogged without a care in the world.

Oh but you would wish you did care.

A familiar Chevrolet Camaro was speeding up to you, slowing down enough so his car would be out of your sight for the time being, Billy kept his eyes glued to the round globes of your ass peeking under those shorts.

Exhaling from the Marlboro he had just hauled from, he could feel his jeans tighten.

You intrigued him, you were relatively friendly to everyone at school, except him.

“Bitch.” He muttered before revving the engine loudly enough that it came over your music.

Irritated you pulled your head phones off to see who it was that interrupted your vibe.

“Douche bag!” You holler at him while throwing up your middle finger for extra measure.

The corners of Billy’s lips turned up in a taunting smirk, you had balls, for a chick anyway.

He blew down on his horn while gritting his teeth and hitting the gas petal harshly, gravel spraying up from under his tires, right into your direction.

You cry out angrily as the tiny rocks pelted hard into your skin, and glare as the car disappears down the road quickly.

Angrily you jogged the rest of the way home in silence, your teeth grinding together as you thought of Billy Hargrove and his smug smirk.

You didn’t find him impressive or something to fawn over like all the girls at school did.

He was a jerk who just happened to have a hot mullet.

Shaking your head, cheeks slightly pink from complimenting him in your head, you kicked your sneakers off and padded to the kitchen for a cold glass of lemonade.

Looking at the little hand written note your mother had pinned under a magnet on the fridge you groaned, she was away again selling Mary Kay beauty products and wouldn’t be home till Saturday morning.

Sighing you leaned against the counter and sipped your beverage while looking out the window spacing out for a moment or two.

“Guess I should do some homework.” You murmured while taking your hair out of its pony tail and sat down at the table doing exactly that.

The next day in the school parking lot, Billy leaned on the hood of his car with a cigarette hanging from his lips and watched you with brooding eyes.

You were walking with your head down, books clutched tightly to your chest and those damn head phones over your head.

Flicking his ash, he watched you for a moment before smirking as your eyes suddenly met his, mouthing some obscenity to you which earned him a death glare but he seen the subtle blush creeping across your face.

“Fuck off hargrove.” You spit as you pass by him, avoiding his hard blue eyes.

“Panties in a twist princess?” He retorted back with a scoff.

You stop with a dirty look on your face, “You nearly stoned me to death with that stupid stunt you pulled yesterday. You drive like a moron.”

Billy gave you a crooked smile and shrugged before flicking the cigarette butt at you, “Watch where your walking then.”

Glaring, you puffed your cheeks for a moment before turning on your heel and stomped away quickly, fuming.

God he was such an asshole.

Billy chuckled to himself before noticing a tiny flash of gold on the ground near where you had been standing just a few moments ago.

Bending down he carefully lifted a small gold hoop earring, one he was familiar with.

The ones you always wore.

And now another mistake you’d come to regret…

A/N: pt.1 is finally done, I’m ngl I just wanted to get the boring shit out of the way and get into the juice😫

[deceptive-daydreams]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Five - Cold Eggs

W/C: 6K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety attack, mentions of drinking

Some early morning honesty on the rocks. Eddie is fucked. In every sense other than literal.

A/N: I'm getting giddy over these two please tell me yall feel the same

Masterlist

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The Munson bachelor pad wasn’t as boyish and messy as you initially thought.  You were sober enough to make that observation.  It was cozy, much like your own home and was around the same size.  The kitchen was probably the messiest part of it however you didn’t get a peek at the bedroom which you assumed could also be very disheveled.  There were cereal boxes left open on the counter, Cocoa Pebbles being the one that caught your eye along with a neglected box of Rice Krispies that laid on its side.   

A few too many pots and pans cluttered the stove top and some empty cans of soup and Spaghettios were left to collect dust near the sink.  His refrigerator held a collection of magnets, some being letters from the alphabet, although quite a few were missing, and others were ads from a pizza place and a few fruits and vegetables with cartoony faces.  Among the mess on the counters, you also noted a few empty liters of soda and some crushed beer cans.  Budweiser to be specific.

Other than that, the living room you’d been sitting in was tidy.  There was a clearly used checkered blanket bunched up on the corner of the couch you’d been occupying for the past several minutes and a few car catalogs littering the coffee table along with a copy of Lord of the Rings, bookmarked with a coupon for ground beef clipped from the local ads.  Next to that, an ash tray nearly overflowed.  

His wallpaper wasn’t as ugly as yours, which you envied.  It was maroon with even darker stripes alternating, creating a dark but homey atmosphere.  The wall sconces on the other hand, we’re tacky.  They looked more medieval than anything, almost like torches.  The light wood floors contrasted with the walls and at your feet was a frayed rug that looked like it had seen better days.  Not dirty, just tattered.

In the corner sat an acoustic guitar painted with the words ‘this machine slays dragons’ and next to it was an electric guitar, red with cracks of black.  You’d never seen one like it before and it seemed to be well loved from what you’d heard every day, the endless guitar solos bleeding into your eardrums daily.  At least he was getting his money's worth out of it.

You continued eyeing your surroundings, taking in the habitat that was Eddie Munson’s home when your gaze lands on a particular object that piqued your interest.  It sat atop a shelf near the door, a lonely Garfield mug.

Before you could further examine the mug or even think of reasons as to why it was displayed, if it was even displayed, or perhaps it was abandoned in a hurry out the door, Eddie emerges from the bathroom just off the living room.  His curls are now wet ringlets toward the bottom, and instead of wearing your puke, he wears a red sweatshirt that reads ‘Indianapolis, Indiana’ on the front along with some baggy black sweats.  Despite his comfy clothes, his face is still decorated with that grouchy frown you’d grown used to.  Did this man ever relax his face?  His eyebrows were still pinched together either in thought or in irritation.

“I-um, I’ll wash the shirt and um the–the boots.”  You stutter, rapidly standing from your perch at the edge of his couch.

Though still a little tipsy, more coherent thoughts flooded your mind.  Guilt plagued you as you thought about the blanket of barf that coated his shirt and boots about a half hour earlier, abandoned on the front porch.  You were smart enough to avert your gaze when he lifted his shirt off of his torso just to let it wrinkle up on the wood planks to be dealt with later.  It wasn’t your fault that you’d caught a glimpse of the tattoos that adorned his body, some kind of dragon if you remember correctly, wound from his waist up to his ribs.  The others you didn’t have long enough to distinguish their imagery, though there were several along with what appeared to be some scarring of some kind.  You couldn’t be sure, the darkness from the night not allowing you a clear picture along with your hazy mental state.

“Don’t worry about it.”  He dismisses while you bashfully sit back down on the edge of the couch.

It was hard to grasp whether he was pissed at you or just at life in general.  You would take full responsibility for the vomit but everything before that was on him.  Yelling at you over a pile of broken plates seemed far more degrading based on his tone, the way he reprimanded you and painted you as this stupid girl, unable to stand your ground.  Maybe it was better that he fired you, you wouldn’t be subject to his obnoxious mood swings where he seemed to take everything out on you when shit hit the fan.  

You continued watching Eddie move about his surroundings, taking in how he interacted with his day to day environment.  What did he look like fully relaxed?  Lounging around, playing his guitar without a care in the world.  It was difficult to picture; the image of a moody man with a tensed facial expression the only one you could seem to conjure up every time rather than the vision of him with his feet kicked up on the coffee table, enjoying coffee out of that stupid Garfield mug.  You wonder if takes his coffee with cream and sugar.  Maybe just cream?  Or just sugar?  Maybe he drinks it black, that would be the most sensible option if you were going by his grouchy nature.

“Gonna find my keys, then we’ll go back to the bar to get yours.”  Eddie decides, shuffling through some items on the kitchen counter.  

The irony.

Agreeing with a hum, you allow yourself to lean further into the couch while trailing your finger over the faded plaid pattern, lines of beige crossing over white that temporarily held your focus.  The clinking of empty beer cans against the linoleum counter can be heard, and then footsteps into the bedroom just off the living room to your left.  Two idiots with misplaced keys under the same roof.

It feels as if the couch begins to mold around you, welcoming you into its springy cushions that otherwise wouldn’t be very comfortable but considering the night you had and the state you were in, you felt like you were on a cloud.  Your thoughts drift back to curious visions of Eddie.  What did his hair look like first thing in the morning?  Was it as wild as you imagined?  Curls sticking up every which way, frizzy and matted?  Or was it somehow still perfectly messy?  Boyishly messy.  

Did he take those chunky rings off every night, leaving them on his nightstand until the morning?  How many more tattoos did he have?  What movies did he watch?  What did he do for fun?  You suppose plucking at his guitars was a main contender with the way it would constantly invade your ears.  Obviously he read, your eyes catching that copy of Lord of the Rings on the coffee table again.  Maybe he worked on cars too, based on those car part catalogs.  

The image of him working under the hood of a car, all sweaty in some kind of tank top occupied your brain, his usually tense face hard at work with grease smeared along his cheek.  And his hands.  His hands would be coated in oil and he’d pull a rag out from his back pocket to wipe them off.  Then he’d smile and reveal those deep dimples framing his face so perfectly.  And then you would–

“Uh, Bambi?”

Eddie’s voice doesn’t do much other than cause you to stir in your sleep, snuggling a pillow while curling into yourself.  You were nearly drooling, completely content.  He couldn’t help but stare a little longer than necessary before realizing what a creep he was being.  Was he supposed to wake you?  If he was, he felt wrong doing so with how peaceful you looked.  He rolled his eyes but truthfully, he didn’t mind having a guest for the night.  

Maybe he’d be able to get some sleep for once.

–

Tossing around as the springs beneath you squeak, your mouth feels like it had previously been filled with sand.  Not an ounce of saliva coated your tongue, you were severely dehydrated.  You flung the knitted blanket that had rested on top of you off–when did that get there?  You don’t remember grabbing a blanket before drifting off into a deep slumber.  

This wasn’t even your house.

Collecting your thoughts, you recall that you had been sitting on Eddie Munson’s couch before apparently falling asleep.  It was still dark outside, signifying that it had to be early in the morning which meant you’d only slept for maybe two or so hours.  A lamp set atop a beat up side table in the corner was the only thing illuminating the room now.  Sitting up and stretching, your bones ached from the way they were piled on top of each other in the position you had been sleeping in.  Your right arm had pins and needles running up and down it from being cut off from circulation for so long.  

The groan that threatened to escape you was held in your throat as you scooted forward, only to find a full glass of water right there on the coffee table.  This was beyond embarrassing, this was humiliating.  If you could scurry out the door and across the yard back to your place you would, but you were in this predicament due to your own negligence.  

With no other options available to you, you gulp down the lukewarm water, just grateful that your tongue was no longer dryer than the Sahara desert.  But it still wasn’t enough.  Your thirst seemed unquenchable, at this rate you’d need approximately five more glasses.  So you stood yourself up, legs shaky and stomach a tiny bit queasy, and wobbled over to the kitchen.  You’d have to pace yourself to avoid throwing up a bunch of water since your stomach was so sensitive right now.  Food was out of the question but water was a necessity.  

Twisting the sink handle with a small screech of the metal, you fill the glass with a shaky and weak arm before sipping away.  

Slowly.  You remind yourself.

It must have taken around eight minutes to finish that second glass of water, coaching yourself through it the entire time.  You grew tired of drinking it but persisted anyway.  As you reach to fill a third glass, you’re startled by a figure in the doorway to Eddie’s room, unable to make out any features in the dim lighting.  With a yelp, you manage to drop the glass in the sink, it clanking around noisily but thankfully, not breaking.  

“Shit, why are you awake?”  Eddie asks, hands raised in surrender as he emerges from the shadows.

“Why are you awake?”  You counter.

He raises a brow, clearly wide awake.  He didn’t even have that gravelly, sleepy voice.  Maybe he hadn’t even gone to sleep at all.  There was no evidence that his hair was any frizzier than before and his face didn’t have that puffiness to it when you wake up.  It’s also possible that he just looked perfect when he woke up but if you’re being honest, no one really woke up perfect.  

“I, uh, I was reading.”  He admits, scratching the back of his head.

“Oh.”

An awkward silence trickles in, causing you to cross your arms as a means to close in on yourself, steadily backing up until you hit the counter behind you.  Eddie maintains eye contact with you as he retrieves his own cup from one of the cabinets, filling it up and chugging it down with ease.  You suddenly feel so out of place, like you were supposed to leave but there was nowhere else to go.  

“I, um, I’m sorry for…for the puke.  A-and for falling asleep.  I didn’t mean to intrude.”  You tell him honestly.

He only nods.  

“I can go…sit on my porch until you go into the bar.  And I’ll get my keys and be out of your hair.”  

A few drops of water roll down his chin as he continues drinking, the back of his hand coming up to swipe the liquid away.  He appears to be lost in thought, eyes concentrated on the counter in front of him where a few rogue Rice Krispies live.  You let your legs carry you a few feet away, your goal being the front door until he speaks up again.

“I’m not gonna be responsible if you get eaten out there.”  He grumbles.  

“Eaten?”

Eddie looks you up and down as if to say ‘are you serious?’.  To be completely honest, you hadn’t taken into account the wildlife that thrived throughout the area before you moved in.  Now you were looking more and more dumb by the minute.

“Bears?”  He offers an anxious head tilt.  “We have fucking bears here, Bambi.  You can’t just wander around in the middle of the night.”

“I wouldn’t be wandering.”  Why were you trying to make an argument?  Out of all the things you could fight him on, why were you choosing whether or not you’d get eaten by a bear?  “I would be sitting on my porch.”

You felt like the dumbest woman on the planet and you knew you should’ve stopped talking but the words just…came out.

“Bears can reach your fucking porch, you know that, right?”  

His large eyes bored into you in disbelief, his mouth slightly hung open as he awaited your answer.

“Y-yeah.”  You gulp.

“God.”  He scoffs, turning away from you, perplexed before muttering something under his breath that you happened to also catch.  “Christ, they shoulda turned you away.”

“Who?”  You pipe up, feeling a bit daring.

For a moment, he turns to stare at you blankly.  It’s almost as if you’re the only two people awake and if either of you happened to raise your voice in the slightest, it would awaken the town.

“The assholes that sold you that house.”  He just about whines, his voice an octave higher, frustration obvious in his tone.

The refrigerator light briefly appears over the blue and green tiled floor as Eddie opens it, reaching for something before turning around toward the stove and kicking the door shut.  

“What–what do you mean?  Turn me away?  What’s that supposed to mean?”  You ask in offense.

“I mean…”  He cracks an egg into a pan, followed by another.  “They shouldn’t have sold it to someone so clueless.”  Another egg.  

The shells are discarded in the sink, further cracking into smaller pieces at the impact he’d thrown them.  

“What?  Were they just supposed to reject me until someone more ‘qualified’ came along?”  You try to catch his gaze, ducking your head as he reaches for the salt and pepper.  “And–are you seriously making eggs right now?”  

You earn a scowl from him as his pan begins to sizzle, his hand quick to grab a spatula from one of the pots on the stove to flip the eggs.  This had to have been some weird dream or manifestation.  And there they were again, those three numbers falling from his lips in a whisper as his eyes shut temporarily while his eggs simmered.

“I was already qualified before you came along!”  He raises his voice, not quite to a yell but not very quiet either.

Silence. 

Your eyes must have bulged out of your head, Eddie’s features softening by the second.  Regret settled in his eyes, your face the vision of pure horror and all because of him.  

He got impatient.

His therapist would be disappointed in him.  And so would Wayne.

“I-I just…I was going to, um…”  He starts calmly.  “I was gonna buy it.  And, and I was—”  His breathing is now shallow, his eyes wet and pleading.  “It–it was–I don’t–”

“Eddie.”  You whisper, trying to break through whatever trance he was in.

He seemed stuck in his own head, eyes darting back and forth while he struggled to find words.  The eggs were on the verge of burning which prompted you to reach over him and turn the stove off.  The spatula he previously held clung against the tile.  

“I-I–um, I was–”  

It’s as if he isn’t even in the room, totally removed as the same few syllables fell from his tongue.

“I’m–I-I–”

“Eddie, it’s okay.”  You attempt to soothe him.  “Do you wanna sit down?”  You ask, trying to catch his eyes but failing as he squeezes them shut.

Again with the counting.

One, two, three.  One, two, three.  One, two, three.  One, two, three.

All under his shaky breath.

“I-I’m fine.  ‘M fine.”  His voice cracks, eyes opening timidly.

When you go to rest a comforting hand on his shoulder, he flinches, a gasp leaving his lungs.  Forcing yourself a few steps backward in order to provide him the space he needs, you recognize a hint of fear within him.  It’s not of you, it’s something else yanking at his thoughts.  

“Sit down, let’s sit down, okay?”  You instruct, gradually lower yourself, waiting for him to follow your actions.

Nodding, he slowly slides his back down the side of the counter, falling into a position where his knees were to his chest, hands resting against the floor.  You join him, still keeping your distance but wanting him to know that despite the previous tension, you were being supportive through his episode.  Whatever it may be.

“Breathe.”  You tell him, just as he had done with you back at the bar.  “In…and out.”  You encourage him.

He follows, his breathing still labored but improving.  Continuing for a minute or so, his shoulders finally loosen up, his face relaxing.  You let him guide the situation from here, if he wanted to talk or remain mute.  Either was okay.

Moments pass, the hard kitchen floor causing you discomfort that you willingly take, not daring to shift around too much as to keep the tranquility finally falling over the two of you.  Instead, you take interest in the wood grain of the cabinets, eyes wandering around each curve like a maze, sometimes identifying shapes along the way.  A dog’s face, a ghost, and occasionally the haunting silhouette of a human.  

Sneaking a glance at Eddie, you find that his eyes are shut as he rests his head against the cabinet behind him, his hands fidgeting with the strings on his hoodie, tying little knots and then undoing them just to repeat the process.  Your watch indicates that it’s 4:03 AM.  You would usually be sleeping however you can’t really offer yourself much sympathy when it seems this is the norm for Eddie.  He always had tired eyes though you’d never put much thought into it until now.  He must not be sleeping.  Which could also be a contribution to his moodiness.  

“I’m gonna lose the bar.”  Eddie speaks up from beside you, eyes still shut as he continues to fidget.  

“Hm?”  You turn your full attention to him.

There’s a pause, a moment of thinking.  You can tell as he opens his eyes and side-eyes you, not with malice but more so to collect his thoughts.  Lips pinched in between his teeth roughly, you could almost wince at the way blood surfaces from the poor abused skin.  Not too obvious, but obvious enough as you await clarification, the tiniest bit of crimson seeping out from behind his teeth only to be left to dry out on his perfectly shaped lips.  Then he breaks the silence with a heavy exhale.

“I, uh, I’m pretty close to losing it.  Can barely pay the bills on the damn place.  Been going downhill for a few months now.”  He elaborates, spinning a ring around his finger repeatedly .  “I was gonna use the rest of my savings that my grandpa left me to buy that house.  Rent it out.  I talked to a friend who’s really good with all that financial shit and he said I could get a steady income and most likely keep the bar running and profiting again.”

“Oh.”  You whisper, a huge sensation of guilt overtaking you.

“Not your fault.”  He sighs.  “Guess I’ve been kinda taking it out on you.”

Now he avoids your gaze, far more interested in the cracked tile beneath him.  A curse can be made out from just under his breath while he buries his head in his hands, running them up and down his face, almost as if to relieve some of his stress but having no such luck.  His admission catches you off guard, not at all suspecting that this morning would turn into honesty hour.

“No.”  You reply quickly.  “I mean…yes.  But I-I didn’t know.  If I knew–”

“Don’t give yourself a stroke, Bambi.”  He cuts you off, turning to look at you.  “I’m not proud of how dick-ish I’ve been.  It’s nothing personal though.”  Eddie confesses, seemingly annoyed with himself.

Sincerity floods his eyes, a cry for help.  But how were you supposed to help him?  Before you can muster up some kind of response to his almost-apology, he continues.

“I-uh, I just can’t lose this bar.  I inherited it from my grandpa and he had been running it for…years.”  Behind his persistence, there’s hints of defeat.  A bitterness that you’d come to recognize in the last few weeks.  “And, uh, I didn’t know ‘im for very long but, I kinda feel like it’s my responsibility.”

“Didn’t know him for very long?”  You asked before even calculating the consequences.  You had no right to pry into his personal life.

His hands begin to move up and down his shins, a self-soothing gesture from what you can tell.  Eddie was very fidgety, and you’d only just started noticing.  

“Yeah.”  He whispers.  “I moved here like four years ago.  Some bad shit happened back home and I–”  There’s a moment of hesitation, a sudden panic lurking behind his gaze.  “I can’t go back.”

You want so badly to ask him where ‘home’ used to be but decide against it.  He had already willingly offered you more information than you would have originally been brave enough to ask for.

“Anyway, I never really knew my grandpa until I came here to live with him.  He died last year.  I’ve been trying to keep things afloat since then.”  He explains, pinching the bridge of his nose with a shaky hand.

“I’m so sorry.  I-I didn’t know.”

Genuine sympathy drips from your voice, the kind that felt like hot honey running down a sore throat during flu season.  During the moment it feels…good.  Comforting.  In the way that only his mother ever was in the brief time they had together.  And then the sting returns.

“I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”  The walls are rapidly raised once again and god knows when you would get to peek through the cracks again.  “We should, uh, we should get to the bar so you can get your keys.  And your car.”  He suggests, pulling himself up from the floor with a groan.

“Wait–what about your eggs?”  You mention, gripping the edge of the counter for leverage as you stand.

The eggs were long forgotten about, now all sad and cold in the pan.  Unappetizing.  One of the yolks had somehow broken among the commotion of Eddie’s panic and left a disgusting coating around the gaps, that eggy-wet-dog smell nauseating you.  They were trash in all honesty but Eddie didn’t seem to mind, quickly lifting the pan and grabbing a fork to shovel them into his mouth.

You can’t fight the urge to stare, cold eggs and runny yolks being tossed into his mouth without a second thought.  

“What?”  He glances at you in irritation.

“You could’ve at least heated them up.”  You complain, nose crinkled in revolt.

He rolls his eyes but his annoyance quickly melts away, a fraction of a playful smirk pulling at his lips, eyes gleaming with something captivating.

–

The scent of tobacco and motor oil invades your nose, the smells of Eddie’s truck, much different than the little pine tree air freshener in the car he’d driven you in last night.  The engine rumbles down the road, startling the birds as he drives by.  Some kind of guitar riff blares through the radio, his ringed fingers tapping along against the steering wheel.  Instead of his sweatshirt and sweatpants, he now wears a long sleeve covered with his leather jacket along with some ripped up blue jeans.  As far as you’re concerned, he’s way underdressed for the brisk morning air, only getting colder and colder by the day.  Though, he may run hot and the drop in temperature just doesn’t faze him.  Even so, it’d make you feel better if he at least put on a heavier coat.

Regardless, you can’t seem to control the shivers that rattle your body, your teeth nearly chattering, jaw clenched tightly.  You were mentally scolding drunk-you for forgetting your jacket at the bar and though you were on your way there now, it didn’t do you any good with the way you were practically an ice cube.  It was apparent that the heater of Eddie’s truck wasn’t very efficient as the air coming out was slightly warm but not warm enough to relieve the cold nipping at the exposed skin of your arms.  You could see your breath, only further reminding you of how cold you truly were.

Attention was the last thing you wanted as you subtly moved your hands that rested politely in your lap, up your arms to offer the tiniest bit of skin-on-skin warmth.  Any kind of relief would do.  You only hoped he wouldn’t notice as you began to move your hands back and forth as a means to create some friction, more heat.

Buy a large, fuzzy, soft coat, ASAP.  You note to yourself.

As a distraction, you begin to identify objects within the truck, a solo game of ‘I spy’ if you will.  At your feet, there’s a small crate of cassette tapes.  An impressive collection, mainly metal and rock from what you can see.  Maybe a few folksy ones behind those based on the labels, John Denver being the one that stood out to you.  Then, another car parts catalog on top of the dash.  An empty can of Dr. Pepper in the cup holder.  Or what you assume to be empty.  A definitely empty cigarette carton abandoned in the other cup holder–

“Shit, here.”  Eddie says, reaching behind into the back seat only to magically pull out a denim jacket covered in several patches and pins.  

Evidently, you weren’t playing it as cool as you thought, clearly somehow exposing that you were in fact freezing.  He showed no emotion as he urged the jacket into your reach, eyes still focused on the road.  Your hesitation only had him pushing the denim into your hand, wordlessly cautioning you that he wouldn’t have your modesty or insistence that you were fine.  Clutching the rough fabric in your hand, you pause to stare at him, as if he was going to change his mind any second.  He doesn’t.  Only keeps his eyes forward, brows furrowed in that grumpy manner.

His nose is pink again and you were willing to bet that the tips of his ears matched if they hadn’t been hidden by his wild hair.  Even his cheeks were dusted with the lightest rosy shade.  Fall looked good on him.  You couldn’t even imagine how amazing Summer would look on him.  

Quickly, you undo your seatbelt and shrug the jacket on.  It’s cold from living in the truck all night but warms you up regardless, much cozier than your bare arms out in the open.  And it smells like Eddie, a smell you can’t quite pinpoint to one specific thing.  A little bit like cigarettes, maybe a hint of cologne, spicy but not overpowering, and a whiff of rubber.  It almost smelled like a garage.

The sun was just rising on the horizon, the lake coming into view perfectly as if to put on a show.  Hues of orange painted the sky, birds chirping and squawking as they announced the arrival of a new day.  An apricot dream accompanied by peachy tones.  

–

The Bourbon was a shell of itself at 5:00 AM.  The morning was bright and early though the bar wasn’t ready to awaken just yet, not until the evening when it thrived.  Until then, it slept peacefully throughout the day, forgotten about until Happy Hour.  Ribbons of light snuck in through the blinds, illuminating the smallest sections of the tables and the floorboards.  

The lights quickly took over that magical early morning feel as Eddie emerged next to you, hands tucked into his pockets while you scanned the room.  And there they were, your keys.  Sat right on top of the bar just as you had remembered.  Your jacket, however, was nowhere to be seen.  

Bummer.

You could’ve sworn you grabbed it from the back lockers before you declared war on Eddie last night.  It wasn’t there either, your locker devoid of your belongings other than a pad of paper and a pen.  

“Have you seen my jacket?”  You ask Eddie, checking the barstools just to be safe.  Nothing.

He had slipped right back into work mode, even at the crack of dawn.  You suppose it's fair though, the information he had shared with you in the quietest hours of the morning resonating in your mind.  Work never stopped for him.  

“Hm?  No, I haven’t seen it.”  He answers, collecting the dirty rags from their designated bin behind the bar to start them up in the wash.

With a soft pout, you trace your steps in your head but can’t seem to recall where you’d left it, your brain failing you.  Maybe it would eventually pop up again, it wasn’t anything special anyway.  It just happened to be one of the heaviest jackets you owned so you would have to remember to stop by one of the shops to search for something equivalent.  Beginning to pull your arm out of the sleeve of the jacket you currently wore, Eddie’s voice stops you.

“Just–keep it ‘til you find yours.”  He says.  Like he knew.  

Were you that obvious?  Girl moves to a random town miles and miles away from home only to be unprepared for the weather conditions in which you would think she would be aware of before committing.

“No, it’s–”

You immediately shut up when you see his expression, something that says ‘for the love of god, just listen’ with glaring eyes and furrowed brows.  Instead of fighting him on it, you offer your gratitude in the form of labor.

“Um, I could stick around…and help.  If you need.”  

Your words float in the air, so delicate it makes him want to vomit; not out of disgust but out of confusion for whatever feeling was swirling around in his head, making him dizzy.  Each word was too sweet, cavity inducing sweetness that he wanted to lick up like icing.  He wasn’t used to being presented with such regard, a candied offer delivered right from your pretty lips to his ears.

“If I still have a job.”  You add.  Sugary syllables pouring from your lips unintentionally.  He may have a heart attack from the amount of sugar.

Eddie collects himself, clears his throat as if to also clear his conscience, not succeeding.  You’re so unlike everything that he knows.  He knows of friendly conversation and boyish banter, endless nights followed by endless days without sleep, he knows of his shitty attitude that comes around more often than not, but he’s never been one to know pure kindness, a certain tenderness radiating from you and seeping into him.  Sure people are kind to him, especially here.  But you’re something else.

“Yeah.  Yeah, ‘course you have a job.”  He affirms.  

The small smile you grace him with makes him want to jump off of a bridge.  Because he is such a cruel being, such a monstrous man awaiting further punishment from the universe for being much less than gentle with such a sweet-tempered, sympathetic human that may even be a gift from god himself if Eddie believed in all that.  

And then Chrissy crossed his mind.  He could not endure another loss.  Chrissy was never even his but he used to mourn what could have been had she lived.  Perhaps she was his first love.  A miserable little middle schooler pining after Hawkin’s Sweetheart all the way up until highschool.  And the moment he got close enough, she was gone, right in front of his poor traumatized eyes.  It was enough for him to swear off love for good.

For some reason he was finding himself wanting to dial back on that promise.  He had only known you for around two weeks and was going back on his own word.  It was freaking him out, making him want to yank his hair out from the roots and collapse onto the floor.  He felt like a teenage boy again, going through puberty and trying to work out all of his jumbled feelings and hormones.

You were staring at him expectantly and it was only then that he realized he had been lost in thought.  A pool of thoughts actually.  Maybe even having a revelation?  

“You can uh…”  He clears his throat, nearly hacking up a lung.  “You haven’t…you haven’t eaten, have you?”  

Internally, he’s scolding himself.  

You’re gonna get hurt before you can even get close.  People are not meant to love you, Munson.  It’s been proven time and time again.  Quit while you’re ahead.

He was too far ahead anyway.  Would he ever learn his lesson?  

People are not meant to love you.

“No.”  You answer sheepishly.  “But I-I’m fine!”  You try to say convincingly.  The reality was that your stomach was swallowing itself, the fact that your dinner had been four tequila shots was not favoring you.  

“Bambi.”  Eddie says sternly.

God she’s gorgeous.

He was fucked.

“Okay…fine.  I haven’t eaten.”  You admit.  “But I can help out a little and then–”

“C’mon.”  He demands, abandoning the bin of dirty rags to head for the kitchen.  

And on the way, he reasons with himself as you follow.

Just be friendly.  There’s nothing wrong with being friendly.  We can be friends.  Stop scaring the shit out of yourself.  She wouldn’t even like you beyond that.  No one would.  

“So, what are you feelin’?”  He asks, knocking his knuckles against the metal worktop.

“Oh, I-I don’t know.  Whatever is easiest.  You know what, I can just go get something from one of the shops, I’m sure that little pancake place is open by now.”

“You don’t trust my cooking?”  He jokes, amusement written all over his face.

To be fair, he hadn’t given you much reason to trust him since you arrived.  But somehow, layers were starting to peel back and you were getting the tiniest glimpses of his true self.  And you’d be stupid not to indulge when he had practically propped the door to his mind right open.  At least for the time being.

“Should I?”  There’s a huge grin on your face, a stupid grin that you try to conceal but can’t.  “I dunno, you kind of have me wondering if you’re gonna spit in my food or something.”  You quip.

“Ouch.”  Eddie feigns hurt by bringing a hand to his chest.  “You think I’m that scummy?”  He asks, raising his brow playfully.

“Oh, the scummiest.”  You banter back.

“You’re breakin’ my heart Bambi.”  He frowns before disappearing into the walk-in freezer, discarding his leather jacket on a hook on his way.

Truth be told he was breaking yours too, with his handsome face and his dumb smile, deep dimples you could think about for hours, and those eyes.  They told a story, a tragic story that maybe he would never care to share.  And that’s what broke your heart.  Suffering in silence.  You knew that feeling all too well.

“By the way…”  Eddie shouts from the freezer before appearing once again.  “I’m Eddie.”  He sticks his hand out toward you, two eggs held in his free hand.  

You look up at him, bewildered.  

“I never asked for your name.”  He reminds you with a shit-eating grin.

The Eddie you met weeks ago was gone as far as you were concerned.  All within a few hours, he seemed to warm up to you.

The scary dog was rolling over…for you.

~end~

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiemunson95 @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels

[spookyji]

I'm going a lil crazy after re-reading your perv txt thoughts and I couldn't just keep my thoughts to my self so im sharing them

Imagine, Perv!soobin is obsessed with your tts. Like He can't keep his eyes or his hands off them and is always caught staring at them when you're just doing anything around the house. When he gets caught looking he just bows his head down in shame and embarrassment while you just tease him more.He would purposefully hide your bras and buy you shirts with low necklines just so he can get a good view.

I'm literally going insane especially as someone that's apart of the big tiddie committee.

-🗣️

oh i’m such a hoe for husband soobs who’s a pervert for his pretty housewife

husband!soobin’s… a little bit of a pervert. his wandering eyes somehow always magnetically attracted to your plush tits, swell covered by a disappointing amount of fabric for him. long legs awkwardly spread apart while he sits at the dining table, buttons undone at the top of his dress shirt, staring. pretty breasts tucked away under your neckline, swaying whenever you lean over or move, soft mounds so alluring, hint of cleavage sending blood racing to his crotch… and looking up at him, heat flush beneath your skin when you realize soobin’s been staring at your clothed tits, long leg bouncing with a hint of impatience, fingers twitching in his lap… and a blush of embarrassment at the bulge in his pants. oh, your husband really can’t wait. and soobin who catches your wrist, tugging his pretty housewife into his lap, his hands on your clothed tits as he mumbles sweet affection, neckline of your clothes yanked down as he caresses your soft breasts spilling out of your top, moaning at the sight of excess plush forming mounds around his fingers whenever he gropes… and pushing you down against the dining table, clothed erection prodding against your soft thigh as he looms over you, hazy gaze laced with perverted lust, tits spilling out of your neckline, oh, so fucking alluring. dinner forgotten as soobin sucks your swollen nipple, kneading your other breast greedily, trapping you between his tall frame and the dining table, dinner forgotten as he suckles hard, soft breaths escaping between sucks and licks, kneading n fondling your breasts without a moment’s hesitation… fuck, he’s really a pervert.

and your bras start vanishing, one by one. first the padded ones, then the ones that cover up,,, leaving lacy ones left, perky nipples showing through the thin undergarment… easier for soobin to sweep you into his arms, embarrassment forgotten as his lips circle your nipple, pushed down against the couch as he sucks needily, shirt bunched up under your arms… husband of yours addicted to the sight n sensation of your tits. higher necklines disappear, soobin’s smile when he buys you new clothes on his heavy paycheck, his blush when your tits practically spill out the top… might have bought a size smaller on the top to ensure overflow~? fuck, his perverted thoughts only intensifying when you shyly show how much your tits spill out, asking if he bought the wrong size… and soobin who’s hands immediately grasp your tits, supporting the heavy plush as his lips land on yours… shhh, no baby, bought the perfect size. busty n beautiful, he loves easy access, kneading your soft tits over your overflowing neckline, pretty housewife of his, he can’t get enough. watching your tits sway as you do housework, trapping you under his broad frame when he’s home, tits bouncing as he fucks you with his massive cock… sweet dreams, soobin, as he fantasizes the swell of your big breasts if he were to knock you up, thinking of how heavy your tits would be, swollen nipples n pretty begs because they’re too much, need his help all the time, pretty stains on your clothes when there’s too much… fuck, husband!soobin who can’t help but cum inside as his lips suck your soft tits… hot cum filling you to the brim but it’s not enough, have to fulfill his fantasies, doesn’t he~? going to fuck a baby into you, soobin mumbles around your nipple, hips snapping into yours relentlessly, big hands never leaving your tits.

lol it is literaly 7:10 am n ofc i’m writing abt soobin’s pervy thing for boobs (bye he’s secretly kinky for lactation—) mille might have small tits… but i loooove writing big boobs ahaha

[madameminor]

In More Ways Than One, Part 8 - Bad Batch x F!Reader - ...Punishment

Summary: You did the crime, now you have to do the time.

Tags: 18+ smutty mcsmutterson, porn with plot, basically, all the good stuff

Warnings: Light bondage, polyamory, oral (m and f receiving), p in v, anal, 'punishment', spanking, voyeurism. pet names, lots of pet names.

Notes: Like I said, my doves, here you are! Chapter 8. Hoof, this was a balancing act, and I really hope I did it justice (mostly for myself so I don't come back in a year going OMFG I need to rewrite this whole thing.) Thank you once again @dumfanting for reading and encouraging me! And thank you to everyone who has reblogged or commented. It seriously means the most to me.

Word Count: ~7k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.5 Part 4 Part 4.5 Part 5 Part 5.5 Part 6 Part 6.5 Part 7 Part 8 Part 8.5 Part 9 Part 9.5 Part 10

With an audible smirk, Crosshair pushes you forward onto the table, letting your arms free so you can catch yourself against the surface. 

“Keep your hands there until you’re told to move them.” He starts removing the top part of your kit. You look up to see Wrecker watching with that big grin, (“Heh - sorry babe, you did this to yourSELF.”) and Echo sitting on his bunk to the right, still sporting that damn amused smirk. (“It’s for your own good, cyare.”) Something about them watching you being stripped makes you shiver and buck involuntarily, eyes falling back to the table, heat rising to your face. 

Crosshair pushes you down firmly between the shoulder blades, newly bare breasts startling against the cool table. “Needy already? Oh, that’s going to make this so much better.”

DAMmit.

You hear the door slide open as Crosshair starts to remove your lower kit. Tech walks into view, placing a regulation duffle on the table in front of Hunter with one hand, his datapad in the other, eyes trained on you. “Ah, you’ve begun. Then I shall set up quickly.”

He moves off to his bunk, removing his pack, pulling out wiring and small, mobile monitors, setting up a strange little station atop the blanket. You whimper in your throat - until your attention is pulled back by Hunter throwing a magnetized set of cuffs to the ceiling. They stick with a solid *clang*, immovable for even the strongest Wrecker. 

You look back down to see Hunter pulling out rope… made of gauze? Is that where all your gauze went??? What was he thinking?? No wonder you were out, that would take an unbelievable amount to- They could have been seriously injured and you'd need-

“Wrists.” Hunter’s voice snaps you from your quiet outrage.

You bite back your retort, remembering the rules (and the consequences). You present your hands forward and together as meekly as possible. Without looking up, Hunter ties your wrists together, carefully, methodically, with a rather large lead at the end. He tugs it forward.

“Up.”

It takes you a moment to process what Hunter is asking you. Up…? Up where? He lightly tugs the lead forward. What onto… onto the table???

Your cheeks burn as you contemplate disobeying. You can't. You just can't! It's so embarrassing. B-but, if you disobey...

Hunter smirks and tugs on the lead, enjoying your turmoil. “I won’t say it again.”

Without making eye contact with anyone, you slowly clamber onto the surface of the table, grateful that Crosshair slid your knee pads back into place.

You keep your eyes down as Hunter threads the rope through the cuffs on the ceiling, artfully (and effectively) tying your hands up to leave you just short of dangling from the ceiling. You can almost physically feel all of their eyes on you, fully on display for them to admire.

“WOoow,” Wrecker murmurs, “Nice job, Sarge. She looks great.”

Your embarrassment is palpable. Fuck, you are so wet right now, aren’t you. You silently pray that Crosshair doesn’t notice- right before gloved fingers start tracing along your labia, gliding over your clit before moving through your slick.

“Love an audience, don’t you, kitten?” Cross smirks behind you. 

Dammit.

Hunter stays silent as he sits back down, this time against the wall. He looks at the genius still tinkering over on his bunk.

“Tech?”

“Yes, finished.” Tech walks over to where you hang and places a slim metal device around your waist, closing it with a click. 

You shiver at the cool metal, voice cracking with uncertainty. “Tech, what is that?”

“A device I’ve created to monitor your physical reactions to sensual and sexual stimulation. Tonight’s edging will be a perfect opportunity to test its abilities.”

Edging???? All of them were edging you???? You thought you were in for some teasing, or some overstimulation…not… not… waaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!!

“Tech, please,” you whimper quietly, begging for his attention. “Please don’t let them do this, o-or at least, not for too long, I’ll be good from now on, I promise.” 

He doesn’t even look up from his data pad. “I believe you, my Queen, but these are the natural consequences, as you are always warning us about. You must learn to accept them.”

Oh he WOULD throw your own words back at you, wouldn’t he? Jerk. Beautiful, smart jerk. 

“Trying to plead your way out?” You hear an amused hum from behind you. Crosshair leans in next to your ear. “Naughty girl. And you know what naughty girls get?”

Your head shoots up, trying to look behind you. “No, Cross, please - “

Your ass is pulled back, torso pushed forward. 

“The question is, how many? Echo?”

You look over at the once-arc trooper, eyes pleading. Echo wasn’t a sadist, he wouldn’t let it be too bad. Three, four, at most five-

He thinks for a moment.

“Ten.”

“T-Ten??” Your gasp, Wrecker and Crosshair both chuckling at your surprise.

“You earned each one of those, cyare.” He sounds like he’s scolding a child! “I know you can handle it.” 

Crack.

You yelp in surprise at the sudden sting on your ass cheek. Crosshair smooths his hand to soothe the reddening mark before ordering, “Count them. Out loud.”

You clench around nothing. Not only are you being embarrassed on a table for everyone to see - but now he wants you to contribute??

Crack, yelp.

“Out. Loud, mesh’la.”

You whimper, pushing back against the soothing touch of his hand. “O-one.”

“Good girl.” 

Crack “NN!! T-two.” 

Crack “Three!”

As Crosshair continues, you watch Echo stand, removing the top portion of his kit, finishing by one-handedly pulling off his under armor shirt. Its like opening a present, the slight distraction pulling you away towards memories of him glistening with water, thrusting into you with his groans ringing in your ears-

Three smacks in quick succession bring your focus back. “AHhh, seven, e-eight, nine!”

“Heh heh, make this one count, Crosshair.” Wrecker rumbles from his seat at the table. His grin hasn’t faded a bit since you were strung up.

There is silence.

You can only hear your own breathing, your own heart beat.

Oh no, come on, you plead to yourself. The anticipation is almost worse than the spanking.

What is he….

Why doesn’t he just…

CRACK

“AHAAA!!” Oh, that one is going to leave a handprint- the thought makes you shiver. “T-Teeen.”

“Good girl. You took that so well.” He massages over your cheeks, relieving some of the burning. His voice purrs menacingly in your ear.  “Don’t make me do it again.”

Your can’t help the defeat in your whine. “Y-Yes sir.”

Echo starts towards the head of the table. “Tech? You ready?”

Tech doesn’t look up from his monitor. “Yes - a baseline has been established. You may continue.”

________________________________________

Echo stops just before you, taking a moment to admire what he sees - his cyare, all strung up and ready for his personal use. Your eyes are glazing over as you sink into submission, pleading and longing for touch, for relief. Karking hell, he just… you just make him…

He clasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger and kisses you, feeling your relieved, longing whine through your throat. His cock stirs at the contact- he missed you. Misses you whenever you aren’t somehow in physical contact.

He deepens this kiss, hotter, heavier, tongue demanding entry before you let him in, plundering you for your sweetness, for his pleasure. He pulls away, an arc of combined saliva trailing between. Add the kiss- crushed lips to the whole ensemble… kriff, his cock is more than stirring now. He places his forehead against yours.

“I finally get to taste you.” His voice is huskier than normal. 

He feels you shiver in his hand.

“I couldn’t wait to be inside you last time, but now…” His nose nuzzles against you.

You look up, eyes pleading, so desperate, so needy. “Echo…”

“Don’t start now, mesh’la. We’re just getting started.” He kisses you again, taking your lower lip between his teeth, before he releases your chin. 

_______________________________________

Echo slides himself under you like he’s working on a speeder, which would be funny if you weren’t so turned on. You feel his warm breath against your inner thigh as he tenderly kisses your fevered flesh, bucking slightly at the sudden feeling. 

You feel his rumble of excitement through your core, sending shivers and moans up your spine. “So sensitive already? Ah, mesh’la, what have I been missing?”

And all slow gentleness is gone.

“Ech- echo!” His tongue takes you moments before his mouth does, sucking your clit into a heated pulse straight out of the gate. Oh no… he is GOOD at this. You buck gently, panting whines escaping as you watch him claim you, trying to keep up with his intensity. His amused hum sends vibrations through your clit and up through your core. You groan as you work your hips against his tongue, searching for enough friction to sate-

And then he stops. He KRIFFING STOPS!! 

“How’s it looking, Tech?” He grins up at your glare. 

“Excellent, just as I expected. You may continue.”

You gasp at the ravenous return of Echo’s mouth to your cunt, making up for the lost moments. You try to keep your heart rate down, try to focus just on the pleasure instead of the build up - anything to keep his mouth RIGHT. THERE. 

“Mmm, cyar’ika, you taste so good. The boys told me you were divine, but I didn’t know just what they meant until now…"

You clench at the idea of them comparing notes, whimpering as you look back down at him.

“Like that, hm? Knowing we talk about you? Share intel, all the ways to make you wet?” His eyes seem to flash as he watches you slowly lose yourself. He nips at your inner thigh before pushing a finger against your entrance, sliding in to stretch you, pushing out a needy moan from your throat.

“Fuck, E-Echo, yes, more, please, yes.”

He slips in another and starts pumping you full, his tongue teasing along your clit. 

“I could stay down here for days, cyar’ika. Make you cum and cum and CUM while they all watch you lose yourself. All while drinking you til you drown in pleasure.”

“Y-yes Echo, yes. Please. I want to cum for you. I want to cum for you while they all watch me.”

Oh his growl travels through your clit and up your spine and he only pumps you harder. Has he changed his mind? Is he going to let you cum after all, even if the others don’t allow it? Your hips buck, desperately searching for the relief against his tongue, imagining the feeling of cumming like this in front of all of them just like he said-

“Stop.”

DAMN! You whine as Echo pulls away from your clit, his fingers still scissoring inside your tightness. He chuckles against your thigh. Your high fades, making you whine again as you shoot an angry look at Tech.

He doesn’t notice. “Returned to baseline. You may continue.”

Echo slides himself backwards until his hips are under yours, sitting up so he’s pressed against your chest. He gives you a sheepish grin.

“Probably for the best - any longer and I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from pulling that scream from you.’

“E-Echo…” you whine in your need and frustration.

He brushes your cheek with his scomp, “One day I’ll wring orgasm after orgasm from that delicious cunt of yours. But tonight - is a team effort.”

Then he does something strange - he pushes you up by your lower belly so your knees are on his metal thighs, your ass out just a little bit. He slowly starts kissing your neck, down along your shoulder. You close your eyes to enjoy his lips against your skin…

You feel gloved fingers trace over your labia. Three of them dip into your slick hole, eliciting a gasp while coating themselves thoroughly.

Crosshair’s hiss is amused- and hungry. 

“So wet already, princess.”

Just as you groan, about to beg for more, his fingers leave your pulsing pussy-

-and start lubing your tighter hole with your own arousal.

You buck in surprise… and need. “C-Cross…!”

He chuckles darkly. “You knew this was coming, princess. I’m finally taking what’s mine.”

One finger gently pushes through your ring of muscle, a whole new stretch, a whole new sensation, pushing into his second knuckle.

“So tight here, aren’t you, kitten?” Crosshair rumbles as Echo’s hand on your waist steadies you, allowing Cross to pulse his finger deeper… deeper…

You whimper as Echo kisses back up to your neck, almost overloaded with all of the attention. He smirks, nipping lightly at your exposed skin. “You’re doing well, cyare. I know you can take it.”

Echo gently lets your knees back down to the table. With a final kiss to your neck he leans back on his scomp elbow, starting to pull his cock through the slick of your folds. 

“So beautiful like this, cyare.” Fully coated, he positions himself at your entrance, laying back and gently pushing himself into your concentrated heat. You groan at the size of him - after almost a week of no sex, he feels… this feels… FUCK…he’s so BIG.

Echo’s voice is a feral groan. “That’s right, precious, stretch to fit me. Love watching your face as you take all of me like that. KRIFF, cyare.”

You look down at him, bliss bubbling through you as you watch him come undone. “Echoooo… Echo, NNnnn.”

He gives a few strokes, guiding you along your stretch. “So TIGHT. So hard not to make you cum all around me until I spill into you.” His scomp rests on your thigh, his hand on your waist. 

Crosshair’s finger pulls out slightly, then gently pushes back in, further, further… You whimper, not looking away. “E-Echo, it feels so strange with both of you.”

Even through his pleasure, he checks in with you. “Do you like it, cyar’ika? You can always use your word.”

You bite your lip to keep from groaning too loudly. “Y-yes. I just feel so FULL.”

Echo smiles and rolls his hips, making you cry out in alarm and arousal.

Crosshair snickers from behind you. “Not nearly as full as you’re going to be.” 

Echo groans as Crosshair’s words make you clench around his cock. He starts to move, slowly to get a rhythm with Crosshair. The new sensations together are almost too much- but perfectly so. 

Echo’s eyes are drinking you in while you dangle over him, hardly able to hold yourself together. He moves faster, gripping your hips, doing his best not to push down too hard with his scomp. “Kriff, cyare. Best kriffing pussy In’ve ever had, I swear to the stars.” He’s almost losing himself i his reverie.

Crosshair’s pulses speed up, leaving you bent over and open. You can’t keep yourself quiet, feeling noise pushed from you with every double thrust.

Hunter’s voice rumbles from the far wall. “Wrecker, she’s getting too loud - why don’t you help her with that?”

Wrecker hops up from his vantage point like he’s been waiting for his cue, undoing his codpiece and pulling himself out. You gulp. Thank goodness you’ve practiced with him a bit since last time. He lines himself up after a few pumps, his hand laying on your head. He groans as he pushes past your lips, letting you take him halfway down. You swallow around him, trying to take more. “KARKing hell, babe. Still hungry, huh?” He grunts as he pushes in a bit more. “Look so kriffing good taking three of us at once. Like you were born to be our little bunker bunny.”

Both of your holes clench, and you know Echo and Crosshair felt how much you liked that. Fuck.

With his cock in your mouth, you can moan all you want, muffled by the length pushing into your throat- a good thing too.

Echo has planted his feet, pushing up so each thrust pushes his cock further, deeper, pushing out cries of ecstasy and need that vibrate along Wrecker’s cock, making him moan in return, thrusts fucking in farther as he ravages you for his own.. The feeling of the cool metal of Echo’s thighs against your burning backside combined with Crosshair’s finger stretching, filling- its so much, its so good. Your pants become moans become cries as you rocket towards your height, so full, so FULL, please just keep-

“Stop.”

No, no NO. Echo slows with his own groan, Wrecker pumping his cock twice more down your throat before pulling out with a reluctant groan. You desperately try to move yourself down on Echo’s cock - but the gauze and his grip don’t let you.

He grins through his panting. “Be good, cyare. Not yet.” 

You practically throw a kriffing tantrum. “BUt EchOOooooOO.”

Wrecker chuckles, pushing his cock back between your lips. “Should have thought of that before you decided to make trouble, babe.”

“You may continue.” Tech says decisively, before speaking quietly to himself. “This is excellent.”

Echo slides back into you slowly, adding himself back to the cacophony of sensation between Crosshair and Wrecker. You see Hunter out of the corner of your eye - you can only imagine what you look like. Fuck, the idea of him watching his men all taking you in various ways, using you like the play thing you are right now-

Echo groans through clenched teeth. “Kriff, she keeps clenching. I don’t know how much more I can give boys, she’s squeezing me so tight. Fuck, you look so pretty with a cock in your mouth, cyare. Tech, am I clear?”

“Yes, now is an ideal time. I will alert you if things change.”

With a curse, Echo starts to pick up his pace. “Alright, cyar’ika. Be good and let me cum inside you, hm? Are you going to be good and let me cum without you?”

You can barely answer around Wrecker’s cock sliding its way down your throat. “M-mm-h-mm.’

With a groan he fucks into you faster, chasing his own high, pushing you far enough forward you’re choking on Wrecker’s cock, earning a lecherous groan from the big guy. You hear Crosshair chuckle darkly behind you, pumping his finger all the way in and leaving it there to let Echo set the pace he needs.

God it feels so good you wish you could CUM!! You whine and cry in your need and frustration, tears running down your cheeks from chocking on Wrecker just adding to the effect. “MmMmMmmm!” 

Echo groans as he fucks himself with your pussy. “KRIFF, I know, I know cyare, but you’re doing so good. You’ll be so full when you cum for us, it will feel so good. Now be a good girl and let… me….cum....”

His hips stutter and you can feel him empty himself into you with a soulful groan. You’re so sensitive you can feel every spurt of his cum against your walls, can feel him dripping down as fast as he tries to thrust it all in you. You feel him slowing, whining on Wrecker’s cock while your hips involuntarily move for more.

Wrecker pulls himself from your mouth with a groan, squeezing the base of his cock. “Fuck that was so hot. You almost got me.” He steps back, breathing to get ahold of himself.

You feel first Crosshair, then Echo pull out of your dripping holes, leaving you panting and clenching around nothing. Echo sits up to meet you, kissing your cock-bruised lips to wet his own, his hand holding the side of your face as his lips explore yours.

“So good, cyare. You feel so good like this, letting me fuck myself with your pussy like that.”

“I want to cum Echo, please…”

“I know,” he smirks into your kiss. “But we aren’t done using you yet. If you’re good and let us all take you how we want, we’ll let you cum. Good girls get to cum.”

You can’t help the desperate, pleading look you give him before resigning to your fate. “Yes sir.”

You feel the poking of something firmer than a finger at your tighter hole, lubing up against the dripping combination of you and Echo. You gasp, trying to look behind you.

Crosshair. 

“Relax, princess. Let me finally use my new toy.”

Echo smirks, propping his legs against your thighs to put your ass on display again.

You glance towards Hunter. You gulp, take a deep breath, and relax - hoping he’ll see his good girl trying to make his men happy.

A small smile, a nod. You feel a bit less whiny.

The plug slides in, pushing out a whine as you stretch to accommodate. You hear Crosshair remove a glove, thrown to the side, his now bare hands firmly massaging your ass cheeks. 

“Kriff, princess. Can’t wait to fuck that tight hole of yours. So soon now. Going to make you cry with how good it feels.”

Your hips buck at the lust in his voice - you can feel it like velvet, caressing you along your skin. You glance around - everyone totally saw how much you loved that idea, all of them staring at you. You feel the heat in your cheeks as you look down and away.

Wrecker seems to have regained his composure - and he’s looking at you like you’re a full buffet on Coruscant. “So Tech, can I kriff her now?”

“Yes, readings are at optimal levels - her walls have reached a new level of constriction without stimulation.” Tech’s voice sounds a bit… deeper than usual. “Fascinating.”

“Heh, still tight, huh? Let’s see what we can do about that.”

________________________________________

Wrecker has never thought of adding more to sex than just the sex part, so this whole tieing-you-up to the ceiling thing was a little weird - and totally a turn on. Watching you trapped in place, squirming under his gaze, can’t get away from how good everything feels, the bonds on your wrists the only thing holding you up - like a fruit, ripe for picking. Oh he could just bite into you, and… Damn. Damn, damn, damn.

Sex isn’t usually rough for him - well, not all of it. He likes holding you close. He likes kissing your neck and hearing your happy sounds while he touches your body. But something about you tied up like this…He wants to let you have it. He wants to USE you the way his brother just used you. And cum so far in you that he gets you-

Whoa. That was new. UH, and maybe for thinking about later.

Can you handle him? He hesitates - memories of his strength going too far, cries of pain from allies unintentionally caught up in his exuberance.

But the others are here. His brothers, who have guided him through everything. They know what they’re doing, they’re sharing this weird new world with him. They’d explained what ‘the word’ was, and ‘colors’, and he’d heard them talk to you about some of the things you like; He can trust them. And he can trust you to take care of what you need. 

Right?

__________________________________________

Big, callused hands grip your hips, pulling you back against a broad, warm chest. a rough voice low in your ear. “Babe, you look so good right now. I want to just…Can I just…”

Its the lust that gets you, weakens your knees, quickens your pulse. He’s trying to warn you, trying to give you the chance to say stop, or at least slow down-

“Wrecker…” You don’t have to try to sound needy.

His voice is waiting. “Yeah?”

You hope he can feel the shiver that runs through you as you say - “Yes, baby, please.”

“Fuck.” You feel him buck in turn on at your words. There’s a hand in your hair, digging in and moving your head to the side, teeth finding the junction where your neck meets your shoulder. He bites down while he sinks inside of you, spearing you, pushing you to stretch around him. You cry out with near pain, but mostly pleasure, arching your hips back towards him.

“MM thats right. Gonna fuck myself so good with this kriffing pussy.” You feel him playing with your ass cheeks, gripping them firmly so he can watch himself going in and out of your dripping pussy, pulling himself all the way out before slamming himself in again. 

Once your whines become moans, he picks up the pace a bit, pulling you back by your cheeks, watching his cock emerge glistening from your cunt with each thrust, swearing under his breath. “Kriff, kriff, kriff.” He speeds up, losing control faster than he normally allows, already pushing his full length inside of you. You bite your lip to keep from screaming out his name.

“You like that, baby? Like me fucking you on your knees like this?” He grabs at the back of your neck, holding you in place as he starts to come undone, fucking himself with your sopping wet mess, his balls slapping your clit in a delicious rhythm- 

And then, with a growl, he SPANKS you.

Hard. 

And its fucking bliss.

A cry escapes you, loud and needy, savoring the fading sting of his handprint on the other cheek from Crosshairs - oh, they’re competing, aren’t they? KRIFF they are, see who can leave a better handprint- gods, the idea brings you right to the edge, each subsequent thrust about to send you flying, so close, so close, so-

“Stop.”

That mother fucking-

“Come on… Tech!.. feels so-”

“If we are to teach her properly, we must be consistent. Stop.”

With a groan Wrecker slows, still not pulling out entirely. You whine in your throat and against your bitten lip, panting into the bonds at your wrists. Your hips move back greedily, trying to take him deeper, harder, anything, just anything. You can feel his grip tighten- oh he’s working so hard not to keep fucking you, not to cum in you while you cum around him you’re so close- maybe you could get him to just-

You feel the wave fade, bringing you back down to square 1. Fuck. This. Machine.

Tech murmurs to himself on his bunk. “Hm. That slight delay allowed me to gather further data then intended.” You glance over to your genius. He’s focused, his pupils are dilated, his goggles slightly fogged- this is one of his fantasies, isn’t it? That thought makes you clench again around a stilled Wrecker, who groans into your shoulder. He starts moving again, unable to resist it any longer. 

Every few pumps he smacks your ass, the sting making you cry out in painful pleasure, making you squeeze around him. Fuck this is AGONY, to feel so good, so GOOD with no build up to release the tension, the need building in your walls again. You let out a particularly frustrated whine of need, of frustration.

“Yeah, regrettin’ teasing me now, huh, babe?” OOooo there’s a sadistic note in his voice that just makes this all WORSE. “Gonna mark this ass up, make it so no reg will ever doubt you’re our girl.” 

“I-I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry I won’t do it again, I promise.” You can’t care that you’re begging again, you just need it so bad. “Mark me all you want baby just please let me cum. I want to cum so bad. I’ll be good from now on, I swear I will. Just please let me cum.”

Wrecker bucks inside of you, groaning at your words while picking up his pace. Oh he wants you to milk his cock dry while he cums inside of you. He just needs a little more convincing...

“Please baby, please.”

Wrecker’s practically pleading himself. “Can… Can she?” 

But Hunter’s eyes still aren’t satisfied. He levels his gaze at you. “Not yet.”

DAAAAAMMIT! Needy tears start falling down your face as Wrecker slaps your ass one more time.”FUCK, sorry babe.”

Crosshair’s chuckle makes your hair stand on end. Shit. You thought he was going to let you get away with it.

“Trying to play to the soft one, are you? Just for that...”

Suddenly, the plug in your ass starts vibrating. 

Echo gets to you with just enough time to cover your mouth before you scream, grinning down at your crossed eyes as you squirm against your bonds.

“KARKing hell Crosshair,” Wrecker swears, losing his rhythm for a moment. “WARN ME NEXT TIME.” Echo chuckles as he steps back out of view.

Too much, oh gods in the firmament, its too much- and you can’t get away. You fall limp in your bonds, completely giving over to the pleasure arcing through your body, clenching and craving around Wrecker’s cock, letting the vibration from the plug light you up. Wrecker’s thrusts become more frenzied, more needy, his balls hitting your clit at an even faster pace, all the rivers of pleasure building up into a massive wave that you desperately want to flood you.

“KRIFF, you’re so tight, babe. That’s it, I can’t… I’m gonna fucking cum, I’m gonna fucking cum.”

You can only whimper in return, feeling the tidal wave flooding your senses as he pounds into you.

“Wrecker…”

“No way, Tech… I’m finishing… this time.” 

“Her muscle contraction is continuing to dangerous levels-”

“I’ll handle this.” If you weren’t so far under, you’d care about how mischievous Crosshair sounds right now...

...but you’re a little preoccupied.

“Please please please don’t stop Wrecker please just a little more…” You’re so so close…

Until…

…the vibration in your plug stops. 

It robs you of just enough sensation to leave you short of your promised release, just as Wrecker’s hips stutter, painting your walls with warm ropes of his seed. You whine in protest, desperately trying to fuck yourself just a LITTLE BIT HARDER on his cock - please, please, PLEASE- 

-but its no use. 

You feel Wrecker riding out his high, pushing in as far as he’ll go. 

“Want all of that to stay in there, babe. Want to still be dripping out of you when we walk out tomorrow.”

You clench again, your moan pitiful in its need, looking to find the culprit who foiled your plans.

Crosshair’s smirk is particularly smug. And soon blocked by Wrecker kissing along your shoulder and behind your neck as he pulls out of you, groaning against your skin.

He pants as he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “So…hot… babe. Just so…”

You stubbornly whine and buck against him, beyond words. Wrecker chuckles. “Yeah, I know, I know.” He gently slaps your ass. “Alright, who’s next? Tech?”

The Genius talks like he hasn’t heard him, slightly quicker than usual. “Excellent. I’ve gathered enough data to make this a fruitful session. This will record her levels across the board when she finally orgasms.” 

“Tech.”

“Hm? Oh yes.” He pauses and walks up to you, kissing your bruised lips. “Thank you, my Queen. You will not regret this.” He says earnestly before turning back to his datapad.

“Well, not ALL the time.” Came Crosshair’s chuckle from behind you. The feeling of the plug slowly pulling out is a torturous relief - so foreign and strange, but so empty now. 

_____________________________________________________

Tech cannot remember a time in his life where he's felt as aroused as he does at this exact moment.

Its intoxicating, watching the arousal of his Queen translated into loggable data on his screen - her heart beat, her slickness, her walls constricting - all recorded and stashed away for his personal analysis, his pleasure- keeping you close to him, opening you up to him in a way no one else will know you. Expansive heavens above, even your data is gorgeous.

That. Is EXTREMELY. Arousing. 

Now he gets to claim the rest - the remaining data to complete his first of many trials, watching you cum apart in binary, in stats and readings, all while HE’S taking his pleasure. He gets to physically see how he makes your pretty pussy feel. Fuck, the shiver that goes through him at the thought.

He’s so hard its uncomfortable against his codpiece. So he takes that off. Along with everything else that separates your skin from his, all while watching a gloved crosshair removing your plug and opening your ass just a bit more.

He walks to the table where you hang, panting and whining for attention as Crosshair milks your moans from you - and your eyes open to meet his.

He reaches out, gently tracing his hands down from your collarbone along the outlines of your breasts, coming to rest just above your hips, enjoying the curve where your hips meet your waist, thumb tracing the device that connects you to his datapad, and therefore, to him.

“Would you like to cum now, my queen?”

Your whine is so desperate his mouth waters. “Yes, Tech, p-please.”

___________________________________________________

Tech’s moan as you slide down onto him is the most erotic thing you’ve ever heard - at least, until Crosshair starts pushing his cock into your ass. His groan almost makes you cum then and there: Deep, hungry, excited, ALMOST satisfied. His hands tighten on your waist to keep himself from losing control. You’re grateful, because you’re so overwhelmed by the two cocks filling both of your holes that you can barely make noise. Its so strange, and so good. Mother what have you been missing up until now…

“KRIIIIIIFF Princess, you’re so tight.” Cross pants close to your ear, teeth finding your shoulder, eliciting a cry. You’re already so full, so INCREdibly full. Its…its so much and you’re so full and you have two men you care for stuffed inside you and now he’s biting you. You look to Tech, a mirror of how you feel, his lips parted, eyes feverish, but still observing, watching you as you relax for both of them, thumbs massaging into the crease above your thighs. 

“That’s right, my queen. Let go.”

You can’t even think about what that means - which is probably for the best as your body takes control. You feel yourself sink down closer to tech, letting him support you.

With a groan, Crosshair starts to move. In, out, in, out. His pumps are achingly slow, working you open to fit him one inch at a time.

“Relax for me Mesh’la. That’s it. Let me in.” His words travel up your spine with the same velvety effect, pushing out your whimper as you clench around him and Tech. 

“C-Crosshair.”

He thrusts sharply into you, reacting to his name. “KARking hell, yes, that’s right mesh’la. I’m so hard right now, NNNnnn can feel you squeezing me.” He sheaths himself again, easier than before. “KRIFF.. Tech, you can start moving, she’s ready.”

Then Tech moves, a small thrust up into you to test the waters.

And your nerves liquidate into molten pleasure. 

Its invasive, you’re so open, feeling like everything you are is out for all to see. You have to relax to take them both, have to let them take control so you can take them both inside of you. Tech’s thrusts start to match Crosshair’s, both entering you with firm thrusts to accompany their moans. You fall into your bonds, useless, nothing but feeling and moaning and stretching to fit more, please, more. Balancing between the two of them, feeling them both sliding inside of you, taking their pleasure while you thrive off of theirs.

“Yes my Queen, you’re so wet. You feel so good,” Tech pants. You feel Tech’s thumb start to circle your clit. You cry out a whimper with each circle, unable to control it, reacting purely on instinct. You feel a warm chest on your back: Crosshair leaning in to slide his hand to your throat, thrusting in you that much faster.

“Been wanting to fuck you like this for so long, kitten. Watch you take my cock in your ass while someone fucks your pretty little cunt. Kriff I don’t think I can last much longer, this is too good.” He’s practically growling through his clenched teeth, trying to hold himself together. “Does it feel good, mesh’la? Taking two cocks at once in your tight little holes? Feeling me take what’s mine?”

“S-o g..ood…s…oh… gooood!” You can hardly speak for the tears running down your face, the pleasure finally building to a greedy crescendo amidst clit, ass, pussy, wrists.

“That’s right princess. Can feel you getting close. KRIFF can feel you squeezing me. You’re close, aren’t you? Beg for it.”

“P-l-l-l-e-e-a-s-e…?”

“KARKing hell. Yes, pretty girl, you can cum now. Cum for us. Kriff, cum while I’m finally cumming in your ass. FUCK.”

You feel two of Tech’s fingers slide between your lips, clamping down around them as they lightly press against your tongue. A makeshift silencer. You look down to him and meet his curious, hungry eyes as he watches you. His husky command is quiet and simple.

“Cum with me, my Queen.”

And everything crashes together like a symphonic crescendo.

It hits you like a droid popper, radiating out through your body and along your limbs. You moan against the fingers in your mouth, your muffled cry in sync with your convulsing walls, two cocks pumping their loads inside of you while you milk them dry. You feel them fill you, one in each hole, pushing their seed in further with each thrust. They both slow, working you down from your high as your panting cries begin to slow and quiet. You slide down again, gasping at the familiar motion with the unfamiliar addition in your ass.

You clench around Tech as Crosshair slides out of you with a groan - before he pops in the plug from earlier. 

“So all the mess stays inside.” He whispers, kissing along your shoulder. “I’ll clean me out of you later, precious. Once Hunter’s done with you.”

You buck at the idea, taking Tech a bit deeper, eliciting a gasp from him. Tech sits up slowly, kissing you firmly, but gently.

“Thank you, mesh’la. You did so well, taking all of us. The first of many... experiments.”

You whimper, feeling the gauze holding you up shift. You pull away from the kiss to see Hunter untieing his knots.

“Lean on me, my Queen,” Tech murmurs along your neck, pressing kisses against your glistening skin. “Let me hold you up.”

You relax against him with a groaning sigh, feeling his cock still softening inside you, letting his trailing kisses along your collarbone ground you while Hunter undoes your bonds, massaging your wrists as they're freed from the confines of gauze.

Hunter’s voice is close. “I've got her from here.”

Tech murmurs in your ear. “Are you ready to move, my Queen?”

You nod into his shoulder and he kisses your check tenderly. 

You’re lifted up against a warm body covered in fabric, legs wrapping around instinctually as you’re carried away. You’re placed down on a bed, lips beginning to explore your neck, warm hands firmly massaging along your waist, your torso. With a small gasp, you feel the fire alight in your pussy. You’d think that the edging and the orgasm would have left you sated-

-but nope, it just made you hungrier.

Hunter's voice whispers by your ear, holding you while hands massage along your weary muscles, working you back into a frenzy. “That’s my good girl.”

______________________________________________

It’s so easy to slide into you now. And fuck does it feel so good.

He watches you come back to him, settling from that high and back into his good girl. He was ravenous for you right now, a way he didn’t know he could feel. Watching his squad all take you one by one, at his orders, under Crosshair’s direction - he thrusts into you involuntarily. So hot. It had been so. hot.

Your whimper brings him back - and your buck against him drives him forward.

“My good girl took all of my men, didn’t she?” he growls in your ear as he starts to thrust. “Took all of my brothers and didn’t cum once. Just like I knew she could.”

Your little cries are driving him crazy with need. “Daddy…”

Something in him clicks- he loses a small amount of control, chasing this feeling with abandon and need. “That’s right, my good girl, Daddy’s going to make you cum all over him, got it? Make you cum good and hard.” His pace is nearing relentless. The warning of her orgasm peels from Tech’s machine before it’s quickly silenced.

“Yes Sir, please, please I’m going to cum again.”

And again. And again. Your moans are silenced as someone stuffs something into your mouth.

“That’s right. Let them hear how good your Daddy makes you feel, as loud as you want now. Tell them to watch you cum on Daddy’s cock. “

He feels you start to squeeze around him, and its bliss. He fucks into you with more need, more hunger, riding out your wave and letting it feed his own.

“That’s right, my good girl. Nnh, NNH. TAKE me. FUCK it feels so good when you cum. Cum around me like that again.”

It's impossible to stop this relentless pace as he pulls one, two, three orgasms from you, your bucks finally weakening, lessening, til he knows you’re satisfied, you’re done right. With a growling cry he spills into you, biting between neck and shoulder to practically draw blood, leaving his mark in and on you at the same time. 

You both lay there panting against each other, him nosing against your neck to imprint your scent again- you smelling like all of them, but him most recent of all. Your body relaxes against his, settling down once again, one hand weaving into his hair and holding him close.

He hears a small, amused huff above him. He smiles against your neck. Always the last word.

“So… do you forgive me?” 

He can’t help but chuckle to himself. “Yes, pet. I forgive you.” He grips your arm where his hand lays, firm, serious, but not painful. “But next time… talk to me. Please. I’ll listen.”

“Alright,” your smile becomes a yawn as you stretch to get comfortable. “I won’t do that anymore…” You trail off. 

Wait for it.

“…to you.”

Hmph. He smirks into your shoulder.

“That’s my good girl.”

______________________________________________

Extra note: SOO guess what? I got into grad school!!! I'm so so very excited about it, its definitely a path of my dreams. Here's the thing- Grad school and work are going to take up a LARGE part of my life. What I want to know is, how many of you are actually invested in me continuing this series? If you are seriously a fan and really want to read more, please reblog and/or comment on this and/or other chapters. Likes to me say 'oh this is nice, but I'm not super invested', like you're just passing through (which is cool, just won't be enough for me when I'm that busy). So if you're invested, you want me to keep going, then please reblog/comment to show me you're serious. That way I'll know I can set this as a priority without feeling dumb. ("Like who even reads this?" You know.)

If not, then the next chapter will be the last one, since its got a good stopping place.

Thanks everyone for reading this far :)

_______________________________________________

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