#my mom walks over and grabs it and yanks the zipper down to take it off.

[dopaminepig]

this year has been the first year that christmas sucked not because my abusive sister with a learning disability was an unstoppable force of nature, but because i experienced firsthand that there is actually a whole lot you can do to keep her calmer and happier and that my mother specifically cannot do it

need a tshirt that says “i survived christmas with my family yet again”

[randomsmutty]

MMM DADDY - Jennie Kim

POV: You're the nerd of your school. Perfect grades and scores, rich parents and all the luxuries one needs, but no one seems to mind you. All the girls of your school seem to fall only for the craggy broke boys. You feel lonely all the time since people use you only for their homework. ---

"Another day at school...yet no friends" you think to yourself as you walk down the hallway to your class. You see girls flirting with the 'popular' guys. Suddenly, you see your crush, Jennie Kim walking the other way. She's the most popular girl, but notoriously rude and a bully. She gets in trouble all the time for either punching someone in the face or peeing into someone's locker for revenge. But she's a hot bully. Today, she was wearing a tight dress with her long hair down!

"I wish I could make her my girlfriend" you say to yourself. But Jennie heard it! She turns back to glare at you. You feel intimidated by her presence but your dick slowly starts getting hard looking at her. She notices your erection. She walks briskly towards you and grabs your crotch. You let out a yelp. Luckily, the hallway was almost empty.

The class bell rings. "Sorry but I really have to go to class right now!" you say to Jennie. But she gives a sly laugh and says, "Oh shut up you nerd. I don't care. Come with me right now". You are filled with anxiety of missing your class but excited to finally hit up with THE Jennie Kim. She drags you to the restrooms and locks into a stall.

You hesitantly remove the zipper of your jeans, but she was impatient. She yanks down everything and licks your dick. You let out a groan. She signals you to stop. She gets down on her knees and starts sucking and stroking your dick. You start moaning and she does it even faster. Unable to control yourself you blast your cum all over her face and her dress. "This dress cost me $250 dollars you sick fuck!" she yells but you find it hot. She then licks your cum off her lips and smirks. She says, "I'll be waiting for you at my home after school" and starts cleaning herself up. She puts on her makeup and goes out. You feel dazed by her.

You scurry to your class. The teacher is surprised to see you coming late. She asks you why you're late. You feel hesitant to lie but you end up saying that you felt sick. The teacher excuses you and you take your seat in the class. You couldn't concentrate on the lesson as your mind wanders off to Jennie and how you're gonna manage to go to her home in the evening.

School ends you start walking out the door. Suddenly Jennie walks past you and slips a piece of paper in your hand. You read what's written on the paper. The paper had her address and a line- "I'm waiting for you babe." You feel more elated and excited. You immediately put the paper in your pocket and walk ahead. You see your mom waiting in outside the school in her Porsche. She was crying. You get in and enquire what happened. Your mom replies, "Your great aunt has died. We're going to her funeral." You are shocked, not at your aunt's death but the fact that you're gonna miss Jennie. You quickly reply that you're going to study at a friend's house in the evening for the next day's test. Your mom disagrees at first, but she finally lets you go. You feel better now.

Your mom drops you off at your home and she leaves for the funeral. You quickly get in, change your clothes and take a few condoms from your dad's cupboard. You drive your Mercedes all the way to her house in a hurry. You finally reach her home, unable to wait, you run in. It was a huge mansion with chandeliers and expensive marble flooring. There she was! Right in front of you! She was wearing a bikini, laying down on the couch. You close the door behind you, and you walk towards her, enchanted by her beautiful body.

You sit on the couch next to her, and she climbs up your lap. She starts rubbing against your thighs slowly. You could feel her wet pussy on your thighs and you start kissing her. You enjoy every moment of her soft lovely lips against yours and you start getting an erection. You lay her down and remove her panties. "Damnn...", you think to yourself. You start licking and sucking her down there and she starts moaning loudly. Within a few minutes, she starts writhing up and down with pleasure and finally squirts all over your face. You taste her sweet nectar. You go up to her big, soft boobs and massage them. She looked so beautiful in that state.

Both of you undress completely. You lie down and Jennie sits on your face. She starts rubbing her soft, pink pussy up and down your face. You lick her occasionally and she moans every time. She gives you a naughty look, positions her pussy over your face and pisses all over your face. Ah! The "hot, golden shower from your pussy is divine", you say to her for which she gives out a giggle. You lick her clean after she's done relieving herself on you.

You take out the condom you brought and put it on. Jennie looks surprised. She never expected full blown sex. She says to you, "I never thought I would have my virginity taken by a hot nerdy guy like you. Throw away the condom. Let's make it raw!" You agree to her and throw it away.

Jennie lies down flat and you go on top of her. As you insert you dick, she starts screaming. Soon, you start moving in and out slowly. Jennie screams out in pain but she slowly starts enjoying it. Tears roll down her face with moans and groans and you start going more faster. She starts moaning so loudly and screams "I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna cum!" You scream the say thing. It starts going very intensely and finally, a huge load of cum blasts into her. Sweat rolls down your brow. Jennie takes huge breaths while looking dreamily at you. She stands up with all your cum dripping out of her vagina and kisses you deeply once more.

You both get into the shower and kiss each other even more. Your phone rings and it was your mother. She tells you to come back home. You both dress up and you say goodbye to each other. You drive back home, still in ecstasy from the experience. ------------------

[shorkbrian]

Kiri’s lil sis (or step sis?) thirsting after her big brother’s cool best friend Bakugo, always trying to join them going anywhere and sit next to bakugo/on his lap with kiri being so oblivious to your advances until one day you practically throw yourself at bakugo to hang out just one and one.. You get all dolled up only to find out jealous kiri finds out about your little date and has to show you how he’s manly enough for whatever you need, that your his

oh my god

Kiri is fine to hang out with Bakugou, fine with calling him his friend, but seeing you tripping over yourself to try and gain Bakugou's approval? It makes his blood boil.

Especially since Kiri has heard Katsuki talk about girls when it's just the boys hanging out, how bakugou likes playing with 'em and what kind of rough, degrading shit he subjects them to. Kirishima is almost taken aback, but hey, to each their own.

Imagining Bakugou doing all that to his sweet little sister sickens him.

To find out that you went behind your older brother's back, batted your eyelashes and pushed your chest out while asking Katsuki if he would take you to get coffee, or food, or what-fucking-ever makes Kirishima grit his teeth and clench his fists.

Especially since he comes downstairs to see you primping in the mirror, with the shortest skirt you own barely covering your ass, nipples poking through the tiny, thin little crop top you're wearing.

"Where ya going?" He can't help but ask, eyes raking over you, a 'lil confused. He likes the view, but you shouldn't be dressed like that, it's inappropriate.

"I'm gonna go hang out with Katsuki." You're barely paying your brother any attention, making sure your makeup looks good enough, leaning forward to dab at your lipstick. Kirishima can't help but stare as your skirt rides up more, showing off a little glimpse of pale pink panties.

"No you aren't, not dressed like that." He decides quickly, a blush rising to his cheeks. He's not some doddling virgin, panties really aren't that revolutionary of a sight to him, but to see your panties, well-

"You're not dad, you can't tell me what to do." Your answer is so cheeky, so bratty, and Kirishima knows you're acting up, already trying to act older than you are so you'll look cool in Bakugou's eyes.

He's having none of it.

Two strides and he's grabbing you by your elbow, hand completely encompassing your little arm. Kiri likes the almost-frightened gasp that spills out of your mouth as he yanks you close, staring down at you with knitted brows.

"You aren't going anywhere near Katsuki, he's bad news for pretty girls like you. I'm not letting him put his hands on my little sister."

Wide eyes stare back at him. "Let me go, I'm not a little kid anymore!" You shake yourself out of his grip (only because he lets you) before you smooth out your outfit with a huff. "I know what I'm doing."

Kirishima frowns. "Do you? Really?" He's irritated now. You don't know what you're getting yourself into. You don't know how Bakugou's going to treat you, going to rough you up and make you cry, drop you off home afterwards and leave Kirishima to clean up the mess he's made of you.

"You're not going."

"I don't have to do what you say Kiri." You point out. "Just 'cause mom and dad aren't home doesn't mean you get to control me. Dad said it was fine when I asked him earlier."

Your brother huffs, moves behind you until his bulk is blocking the front door, your exit. "Dad barely knows who Bakugou is. I said you aren't going, and that's final."

"Kirishima-" You're angry, eyes blazing as you stare him down. "Get out of my way."

Look at you, trying to be all tough and bossy. Bakugou would destroy you, and Kirishima can't, won't have that happen.

"He's not gentle, y'know." The redhead starts off nonchalantly, propelling his body towards your with a few easy steps.

"He'll grab you like this-" A hand at your throat, squeezing too tight for your comfort and immediately you're scrabbling at his arm, wheezing for Kiri to stop. "And he'll just laugh when you do that."

"He'll bend you over the most convenient surface, see?" He's shoving you into the kitchen, making you stumble backwards before your brother spins you around, slams you over the counter. Your toes are barely touching the ground, head spinning from the rough treatment. What was Kiri - your sweet, goofy brother - doing?

"Probably'll make fun of what you're wearing. I mean seriously, are you trying to look like a slut?" Kirishima slaps your ass where it's exposed by your tiny skirt, and you yelp, trying to scramble away. But Kirishima easily grabs your waist, keeps you in place and kicks your legs apart before forcing himself between them.

"I can see your panties, and your breasts in this little getup. Bakugou doesn't like easy girls, thinks they deserve to get fucked real rough. You ready for that?" Kirishima doesn't bother with your skirt, it's so short it's not even in his way as he runs his fingers over your panties, snapping the waistband against your skin. You're so warm.

Then a hand pushes up your shirt until it's over your chest, and your tits are smushed against the counter as Kirishima presses you flat against it. "Y'know, he might not even prep you. A real gentleman would make sure you're ready first, maybe make you cum a few times before even think of getting inside you, but not Katsuki. He'll shove in dry, tear you up and make you bleed all over the place."

Fingers push the crotch of your panties to the side, and you're whining, crying into the counter now. Begging Kirishima to stop only makes him chuckle darkly, and suddenly you feel the heat of his crotch as he presses against you, grinds the bulge in his jeans against your core.

"Crying is only gonna make him treat you worse. You know he doesn't like crybabies. You gonna cry for him just like this when he splits you apart? You'll make him go soft sweetie."

It's only when you hear the sound of a zipper do you truly start to thrash, truly scared and cowed. "I get it, I get it! 'M sorry Kiri, I won't go, I won't!" You cry, legs kicking as you push up against his hand, trying to get off the counter where he has you pinned.

Kirishima lets out a noncommittal hum, enjoying the way your frantic movement is stimulating his cock where it's pressed to your cute little pussy. You're even starting to get a bit wet, darkening his jeans.

"Please! Let me go, I'll listen, I swear-" You beg, cries choking your throat.

It feels like forever until Kiri steps away from you, lets you push yourself off the cold counter and pull your shirt over your chest, push your panties back into place and tug down your skirt.

When you turn to look at him, Kirishima almost feels bad about your puffy eyes and the tears running down your face. Almost.

"C'mere-" Is all he offers instead of an apology, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. He's still hard in his jeans.

"I just don't want to see you get hurt, that's all." Your brother explains, rubbing your shoulder as you sniffle against his chest. "Bakugou isn't boyfriend material, got it? Especially not for someone who hasn't even had their first kiss."

He can feel you nodding in understanding against him.

"I'll text him that you won't be coming, okay? Go upstairs and change. Maybe we can watch a movie or something." A pat to your head as you turn away from him, little hands wiping at the tears on your face as you start to walk away.

Kiri can still see your panties with every step you take, ass bouncing.

He's going to text Katsuki, tell him that you're completely off limits. Maybe later tonight he'll send the blonde a video to really cement that fact, you on your knees, sucking his cock. Or maybe a few different pictures of your cunt as he presses inside, a few more showing him teasing your clit with the head of his dick.

That'll get the message across, not only to Bakugou, but to you.

Kirishima's the only one that gets to touch you

Ever.

[foodieforthoughts]

Show Me the Light

Summary: She recently moved to Minneapolis and is a newly appointed sports teacher at Southern Cross High School, wanting to live life away from the big city of New York. On the first week of her arrival she (almost) crashes into Detective Walter Marshall which leads to his and her life being intertwined there on. It is not your regular meet-cute story but rather a tug of war between two people from opposite spectrum of life.

Pairing: Walter Marshall x OFC (Myra King)

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: A slight description of a possible accident, smut in the future chapters.

A/N: Hello! After watching "Nomis" for the second time, I really started to feel the urge to write about our grumpy Detective Walter Marshall. I don't want to make it all angst, so bear with me if the OFC seems too cherry to be in the movie. Also, I do not want to face tag her, so let your imagination run free.

**Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist**

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

Title: Show Me the Light

Walter slammed the manilla folder on his desk, exasperated with the dead ends to the present case at hand. He stretched his arms in front of him, feeling his neck become stiff with the cold and his goddam posture was killing him.

"Dad?" Faye peaked in, draped in a shawl with her toothbrush in her hand.

"Are you going to bed now?" Walter's voice came out sterner than he intended to.

"No, I'm getting ready to go to school." She pointed towards the window in his office. Faint light of the rising sun was casting a glow from behind the curtains. "Did you stay awake the whole night?" She innocently asked.

Walter rubbed his eyes. He hadn't even realized how much time had passed since he had grabbed the case file last night. He had become so invested in it, he had completely missed bedtime. 'Not that sleep is important anyway.' He grunted, feeling the sore muscles in his back stretch as he stood up.

"I can call mom to drop me to school." His daughter offered. Her small frame looked tiny enveloped in her grey shawl, her nose pink with the cold.

"No, I'll just get some coffee. Have to go to the station anyway." Walter grunted again as he stretched his neck, rubbing a tender spot. "Go get ready."

He watched as his daughter retreated with a concerned look. Walter loved having his daughter around but it was mostly because he could keep one of his concerns at bay by keeping an eye on her. Grabbing his gun from the drawer and his badge lying on top of his table, he made his way downstairs to fix himself some strong coffee. He could feel the tiredness lingering in his muscles, but he had a job to get done. When he took the pledge to serve the public, he wholeheartedly meant it.

"So we got a new sports teacher." Faye pulled on her seat belt and buckled it over her body.

"What happened to the previous one?" Walter started the engine of his truck, the hunk of metal humming and warming in the cold. He let it run for a couple of seconds, rubbing his hands together as it touched the cold steering wheel.

"I don't know. He got old?" Faye chuckled.

Walter spared a smile. His daughter, the light of his life, made it a little less harder to live in this cruel world. They pulled out on the street and made their way towards the school.

It had snowed heavily last night. The sun shone brightly on the white landscape, making the snow twinkle like crystal. It was already peak office hour and thankfully Faye's school was not deep inside the city. Walter took out his sunglasses from his glove compartment, as the glint of the sun on the snow and the car windows were making his head hurt.

"Um... Dad? Is that coming our way?"

Walter looked up, squinting at the road as Faye pointed out in front of her. A black figure on a bike, the sound of its exhaust rumbling through the street and the metal parts shining in the sun, was making it's way towards them. The speed at which they were travelling and the slight tilting of its wheels from side to side hinted that the rider was losing it's balance.

"Oh, fuck!" Walter gripped his steering wheel tightly as the bike zoomed past his truck, barely missing the edge of the hood, and skidded along the slippery road to crash against the mount of ice gathered on the side. His truck made a grumble, the tires screeching as it tried to get a grip on the asphalt, coming to a jolting halt.

"Dad!" Faye had gripped her seat belt bracing for impact. "Oh my God! Are they alright?" She turned to look behind, watching the rider on the ground a few feet away from the bike.

"Are you okay?" Walter looked at his daughter. A whiplash injury was the last thing he wanted his daughter to suffer from. When Faye hurriedly nodded at him, his anger grew as he growled and opened his door to jump out and catch a hold of the irresponsible person who nearly crashed into him.

***

She was running late. Her second day on her job and she was freaking late.

Myra had hopped on her bike, chugging the last of her veggie smoothie and placing the bottle on the side pocket of her bag. Her brilliant black Benelli 900 SEI had looked stunning as always. She had dusted the few sprinkles of snow laying on it's tank, before kissing the cold metal handle bars.

"Don't disappoint me today, okay? You have been good so far." She had smiled at her bike dearly, remembering she still had to get it checked by a professional because of all the transportation it had had to go through. The sweet sound of its powerful engine coming to life, the exhaust emitting a rumble as she had revved it up a little, had made her heart swell.

Everything was working out fine. The city roads had been bustling with cars, but she had zoomed past them. Even though her bike belonged from the 70s, it still worked like a fine piece of metal. She had worn her faithful leather jacket, her biking gloves sat snuggly against her skin providing warmth in the cold weather.

Somewhere around the suburban part of the city, nearer to the school she worked at, her bike started to give off a clicking sound. Myra pressed on the breaks, feeling her speed coming down a little and her tires beginning to wobble on the road.

"Oh, fuck. No, no... " She prayed as the braking system seemed to be giving up on her. Her accelerometer showing her speed still above 20 mph. She was already crossing the speed limit inside the suburban region and was unable to do anything about it.

Her eyes widened as she spotted a big truck coming her way. She pressed down hard on the breaks, but she knew a crash was imminent now. Her eyes scanned about trying to look for an escape bay, spotting a heap of snow on the side of the road.

"Oh, God!" She turned her handle abruptly, missing the oncoming vehicle by mere inches, and let go of her bike as it skidded along the road and crashed on the snow. She slipped on the gravel for a couple of feet, trying to hold onto something to stop herself but failing miserably.

Myra groaned as she came to a halt, her head bumping against the road but saved by the helmet. Her heart raced like it was going to come out of her chest. Her feet and hands had gotten cold from the fear of crashing into the car, her breathing coming out ragged. She blinked several times, looking up at the sky through her black tinted glass hood of her helmet, swallowing the dryness in her throat.

"Hey!" Myra felt herself being yanked up by the collar of her jacket and came face to face with an angry, curly haired man. His eyebrows were scrunched together tightly and his lips, under the bush of his beard, was upturned in a sneer. "What the fuck just happened there?"

The zipper of her jacket dug at her throat, her feet dangling from the ground. The man was huge and powerful to have lifted her body up like she was nothing but a ragged doll. Myra placed her hands on his, trying to choke out a word. The insulated cover of her helmet and the air getting blocked from her throat was making her difficult to form words.

"W-wait... " She tried to speak but felt her lungs were straining for oxygen. The sound of the police siren made the burly man finally let go of her. She dropped to the ground on her knees, gasping for air and pulling her helmet off. She coughed as she leaned on the ground, placing her hands on the road breathing in through her mouth.

"Miss King?"

Myra looked up at the tiny voice of a girl coming from behind her. She recognized the girl from her class yesterday. Myra had helped her correct her posture while aiming for the goal when they had played soccer.

"You know her?"

The bearded man from before who had held her by the collar asked angrily. Myra looked over at him, his arms crossed over his chest, straining the fabric of his sweater over his muscles. She looked down at his waist and noticed the police badge clipped on his belt, his gun cocked in it's holster. She sat back on her knees, looking from one person to another.

"Yes! She's our new sports teacher."

Myra felt her cheeks heat as the grumpy man and the two police officers that had arrived later, looked down at her. Her gaze fell on her bike some few feet away, the hazy grey colour of smoke emiting from it, contrasting against the white sheet of snow.

"Take her to the station. Keep her there until I come back." He grumbled to the other two officers, throwing her a look of disgust and walking away with the girl behind her.

"Come on, Miss. Inside the car."

With a grunt from her aching muscles and joints, Myra stood up clutching her helmet in her hand and followed the men as they lead her to the police cruiser.

'Bloody fucking great!' She silently mumbled to herself as she sat on the backseat of the cruiser and watched the black truck she was going to crash into, drive away.

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[amyrlin-of-starlight]

Rain was beautiful. Rain was fast. Rain was gone. Rain was never coming back.

If you asked someone- anyone, really, maybe even a random person you caught a glimpse of in Kohl’s with Christmas tree ornaments at half the price or a cable-knit sweater with a V-neck that you could tell was meant to show off the crevice of a cleavage, and grabbed them by the arm, asked them the question you always hoped that they would answer differently- about Rain Wood, a look would wash over their face. The gaze that their eyes emanated would soften, melt with sympathy, and their lips would part without a word for a moment, and then they would say Rain was... Rain was a nice girl. Rain was a pretty girl. Rain was a missing girl. And then maybe they would notice the slope of my nose, the color of my eyes, the shape of my lips, and realize that Rain Wood was not just a missing girl to me, not just a nice girl, not just a pretty girl. That she was a girl who left something-someone-behind with the slope of her nose, the color of her eyes, and the shape of her lips to always remind her of someone who was never coming home. Her Christmas stocking, red and white, was getting dusty and smelled like old wood from so many years trapped in the attic, and there were unopened gifts hidden in the closet underneath the hems of winter coats and tucked behind the worn boots my father wore to trudge through the snow or the mittens tossed aside, flung from frozen fingers, and her favorite cereal was still in the cupboard, having expired three years ago, but my mother would have never let anyone eat it anyway.

That cereal was Rain’s.

Rain was a girl with fiery red hair that she twisted into messily done braids with wisps of her tresses curling around her ears that seemed to be caught on fire underneath the gleam of the sun, and Rain was a girl with bright, green eyes that resembled the leaves of a walnut tree in the summer. I had those bright, green, walnut tree-esque eyes too but they never looked as good on me as they did Rain. Rain had eyes that twinkled, that glimmered, and that sparkled. Maybe my eyes did that too but then Rain was gone and my eyes became dull, unpolished, and murky. Rain was a girl with a boisterous laugh, one that giggled, one that made you laugh too. Rain was a girl who sang country songs in the passenger seat of our mother’s car, her bare feet propped up on the dashboard, her chipped, baby blue nail polish seeming to look beautiful on her delicate toenails, and her voice had a southern drawl to it when she sang that my mother never understood, the origin unknown and a mystery.

Rain was perfect.

And Rain was gone.

Rain was.

The word “is” just never accompanied her name anymore.

Because.

Rain was gone.

.

It was Christmas Eve when she disappeared, when she went from Rain Is to Rain Was, and she was with me, her fingers clad with gloves wrapped around the laces of her ice skates with blades that glinted underneath the rays of the sun and clinked together as she walked, her footsteps crunching in the white, glittering snow, and she was smiling at me, telling me how beautiful everything looked in winter. She was oblivious. I was smiling, agreeing with her. I was oblivious.

I had my own pair of ice skates and I was holding them by the heels, rubbing the leathery material in between my cold fingers, and sticking out my tongue to feel the cool droplet of a snowflake falling on my tongue. I dropped my ice skates onto the snow, flurries emanating from around the blades and the sides of the shoe, and the tip of one of the laces had buried into the snow, as if it were hiding, as if it knew. I was peeling off my boots, tossing them in random directions, and I heard the humph of a man grunting behind me as my boot whacked against his shin. I heard Rain apologizing to him, I heard Rain telling him that I was just excited, I heard Rain wishing him a Merry Christmas.

I heard him ask her if she knew which direction our local Wal-Mart was.

I heard him ask her if she would mind showing him on his map in his car.

I heard her say yes.

I never heard Rain say anything after that.

I waited for her to come back, my ice skates tied tightly around my feet, and the tips of my fingers beginning to develop what felt like frostbite, and I even stepped out onto the ice alone, a small little pond with snowflakes collecting on the glass-like surface, scratched with the treads of past ice skates, and I waited. I waited for her to show him which way the local Wal-Mart was on his map in his car. I waited for her to come running back, smiling and laughing, joking about out-of-towners, and then for her to yank down the zipper of her boots that almost reached her knee and lace her ice skates.

I waited for the blades of her ice skates to graze the ice of the pond with mine. And then, after the sun had begun to dip behind the forest of pine trees behind me, I got off of the solid pond and walked on the blades of my ice skates to the parking lot of the park, wobbling and grabbing onto bird baths and light-posts when I could, and I searched for a car with a man and Rain hunched over a map, her finger tracing the roads and gliding over the rivers, and his furrowed brow, confused. He had to be really confused if he still did not know the way. But there was no car, there was no map, there was no confused, out-of-towner with a furrowed brow.

And there was no Rain.

I nearly tripped on the pavement of the parking lot as I searched for her, stepping in brown slush with the blades of my ice skates, and I called out her name. There was no Rain. I asked a woman with her children who wore matching knit hats if she saw a teenage girl with an older man, and she said no. She asked me if I was lost, and I said no. My sister, Rain, was lost, I told her. I told her about the man who wanted directions to the local Wal-Mart and how my sister was going to help him. She had just gotten her learner’s permit that year. The woman’s faced drained and wrinkled with something that looked a lot like fear as she asked if I knew the man, if he was a friend. She told me to play with her children with the matching knit hats when I told her no. He was a stranger.

And Rain was gone.

Red and blue lights flickered and gleamed off of the dark pavement of the park parking lot after the woman brought her cell phone out of her purse and pressed her thumb down on three numbers. She said that there was a missing minor, and I remembered thinking that I didn’t know what that meant. Rain, not minor, was missing, and she was just lost. She was trying to help an out-of-towner find our local Wal-Mart. I remembered a man dressed in navy blue with badges decorating his chest and a walkie-talkie strapped to his shoulder crouching down in front of me, asking me about Rain, about the man she was trying to help. He held out a pair of ice skates he found in the parking lot. He asked me if they were hers. I said yes. I said that she was going to be upset that she lost her ice skates. He smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes and took out a notepad with a leather cover and a pen, clicking the top, and asked me if I knew my parents’ phone number. I did. I told him. He told him that they would try really hard to find Rain, my sister, and I just nodded.

I was oblivious.

I was in the dark.

I was unaware of the Amber Alert. I was unaware of the search parties composed of neighbors, of church-goers, of people I never met, that combed the forests. I was unaware of the reason for my mother’s hysterical tears. I was unaware of what the term foul play meant. I was unaware when they asked for my sister’s hairbrush, placing it in a plastic bag that zipped. I thought they were going to brush her hair. I was unaware that my sister’s face was on the news. I was unaware that people were already buying candles for the vigil. I was unaware of the missing posters that were being plastered over my hometown.

And I was unaware that somewhere, my sister, Rain was gone.

I always thought she would come back.

Until I heard a man who said he was an FBI agent in a blazer with a stripped red and green tie telling my mom that Rain was presumed dead, and how loudly my mother sobbed in the living room as she tried to take down the Christmas tree ornaments. Foul play, presumed dead, predators, they all felt like they were words too big for our living room to handle. My mother said that Rain was alive. My father said my mother’s name. My mother shouted and I heard something crashing. It was the Christmas tree. And then she ran for her computer and brought the document for Rain’s missing person’s poster and kept clicking the PRINT button over and over again, her breath coming out in gasps and her eyes trickling teardrops onto the keyboard.

I asked the FBI agent as he left if Rain was coming home.

His face softened.

His head tilted.

And his lips said the words, no. Rain probably would not come home.

.

When I was thirteen, just after May and the flowers began to grow in the flower beds that were pushed against the exterior bricks of houses in the Cul-De-Sac neighborhoods, and Rain has been gone for four years and her black and white pictures that store owners let my mother tape to their windows had been torn down and crumpled, tossed thoughtlessly into trashcans because she was gone- totally gone, completely gone, utterly gone, with nothing even to bury because she was totally, completely, and utterly gone- the police called us and told us that they had a man in custody. His name was Jerrod F. Norris and he had mean eyes that were murky blue and perfectly straight teeth and dark stubble adorning his cheeks in his mug shot photograph. He looked normal and terrifying at once. I thought about my sister seeing those mean, murky blue eyes, staring into them before she slipped away, and I thought about her heart fluttering. She said your heart flutters, jumps, when you look at a certain boy. I thought about her heart fluttering and jumping as he took away. I tried to turn off of the television as his face illuminated the pixels and my fingers were fumbling, unable to press the buttons of the remote control, and then I just threw it against the screen. It cracked and went black. My parents weren’t even mad. My mother actually thanked me as she choked on her tears. My father curled his fingers around the edge of the couch cushions.

They say he admitted to taking her, to seeing her that Christmas Eve in front of the frozen pond with the laces of her ice skates pressing into the folds of her fingers, and to lying about the directions of our local Wal-Mart. He lived only five miles away. He had receipt for duct tape and a curling iron from our Wal-Mart an hour before he said he took Rain away from me. I didn’t want to know why he had bought a curling iron but they said he was single and he had short hair. He said he took her away, covered her mouth, and taped her hands and feet together and drove. He took her to the woods, he said.

He molested her, he said. He murdered her, he said. He left her there, he said.

And when they asked for him to draw a map to find her, he said he could not.

Because he did not leave her in just one spot.

I remembered how my mother screamed, wept, when the detectives told her about the interview, about his confession, about what he said he had done to her little girl. She was on the ground, clutching a pillow to her chest, and her face was red and wet. The detective looked uncomfortable, distraught, and a little alarmed. I was too. I thought women only shouted in the movies but my mother was shouting, not even words but sounds, and my father was crying too, and kept saying, “Oh, my little girl. Oh, my little girl.” The detective tried to say that there wasn’t a body, or body parts, yet, but it didn’t matter.

Someone had said that they took our Rain away from us, kept her silent, hurt her, slayed her, and tore her apart, left her in the woods all alone on Christmas Eve, with her little sister waiting for her, teetering on the silver blades of her ice skates in the parking lot as she looked for her, calling out her name.

Rain was gone.

Rain was nowhere.

Rain was everywhere.

.

The day I met Franklin was Christmas Eve, but December 24th stopped feeling like Christmas Eve nine years ago when Rain went from “is” to “was” in that single moment in front of the frozen pond, the blades of her ice skates clinking together and her footsteps coinciding with his crunching on the thick snow. I was there, in front of the pond that was crisscrossed with the scratches and grazes of the blades of ice skates and dusted with a light layer of snowflakes. It looked like that day nine years ago; when I last saw her, Rain, when I last saw her smile. I brought my ice skates but they were too small now, fit for a nine year girl with a sister who was alive- gloriously alive and so in love with life, not an eighteen year old girl without a sister who was dead. I didn’t want to skate until she was found. Eventually, I just thought that I would never skate again.

But now I was back- because a couple of hunters stumbled upon a bone in the woods during the hunting season, and the DNA tests proved that it belonged to Rain, that it was Rain’s bone. It was a leg, they said. It looked broken, they said, maybe before she died or after. They thought she was dead when it happened, when her leg stopped being a part of her, but I was not sure if they were just trying to spare us the awful thoughts we were already thinking.

And now I was going to skate again.

But my skates were too small.

And Rain was gone.

“You will need bigger ice skates than that.” I heard his voice before I saw him and I flinched as I heard his playful, light voice bouncing against the barren trees and the glimmering snow-topped grounds as he walked, his large footsteps crunching and breaking the smooth, pristine assemblage of snowflakes on the ground. My footprints were barely visible- I had been standing there so long. He wore a thick, black parka that swished as he walked and held a black pair of hockey skates underneath his arm and the tips of his ears and nose were red from the cold. His breath came out in clouds as he grinned at me. I thought about Jerrod F. Norris and his grin I am sure he showed my sister before he took her away.

I backed away from him without even realizing as he stepped toward the pond-crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch-and he looked at me for a moment, as if he were puzzled, and titled his head to the side.

He dropped his ice skates onto the snow, the little flurries of white snowflakes drifting through the air as they plopped reminding me of my own ice skates and how I just dropped them that day.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice sounding that kind of breathless that came from the cold, and he still smiled at me. “I was not meaning to insult your foot size or anything. They just look kind of small.”

He shrugged and then lifted a gloved hand to wave at me, friendly, as if I were standing feet away from him. “I am Franklin, by the way. I practice here on Wednesdays. I am going to try out for the hockey team next semester but I doubt it will happen because I suck, horribly. I accidentally did a split a few weeks ago. Only time will tell if I am still able to have children.”

You talk a lot, I thought to myself as I stared at him, almost in bewilderment, as if somewhere during his rushed, awkward words. I wondered if Jerrod F. Norris spoke a lot, if on the way to his car that he chewed her ear about his job, about the imaginary family he pretended he was visiting, about whether or not he thought his hockey abilities were proficient or not.

“I was just leaving,” I told him, gripping the laces of my ice skates tightly.

They were too small.

And Rain was gone.

“You don’t have to. I mean, the pond is pretty big. And I promise I would not intentionally injure you and if I do, I will apologize profusely.”

“That is quite alright.” I wanted to leave. I felt suffocated by his words that felt as if they should have been friendly; but to me, they felt double edged, they felt like a façade.

They felt as if they were concealing twisted and malevolent objectives that took place underneath the shelter of the pine trees in the snowy woods.

He stared at me for a moment. “Um, okay, then. Merry Christmas.”

I felt something strange in that moment as I heard him say that. I felt a twinge of something that pinched the nerves in my chests and in my eyes, and I felt my lips beginning to quiver. It barely felt like Christmas, not the Merry Christmas he was wishing me. He was wishing me something that was wrapped with golden paper and a dark, green bow and curled ribbon and peppermint candy canes hooked around the pine-scented branches of a Christmas tree. He wasn’t wishing me the Christmas I had of remembering the posters plastered on the storefront windows and the news talking about my sister so distantly and the fading image of her smile beaming at me.

“I do not really celebrate Christmas… er, Franklin.”

“Oh, you are Jewish? Sorry. Happy belated Hanukah, then.”

I shook my head. “I am not Jewish.” I felt my finger along the sharp blade of my ice skates, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the rectangular blade. I looked horrible. I looked broken.

“I am just... I really miss someone. She, uh… she is dead. Or at least, that is what they say, but I do not know even though they found her- or a piece of her- in the woods but I just…” I felt a burning tear glide down my frozen cheek. “I just do not really celebrate Christmas anymore.”

He blinked. He looked sad. His grin was gone. “You are Aer Wood.”

I nodded. “I am.” My voice was choked.

“I am really, really sorry.”

“Thanks, but that does not really matter. People think it does matter but it does not. The one person I want to be sorry is the one person who took her away. But he is not sorry. He says he is but he is not because a month after he stole Rain from me, he stole someone else and then he stole someone else. They caught him because he was trying to hide her. A little fragment of her, anyway. A hunter saw him, saw what he had. He actually shot him in the knee.”

“I heard.”

I swallowed, pressing my index finger deeper into the blade of my right ice skate. “He said he wanted to stop him because he has three daughters at home. He said good men do not bury pieces of little girls so he shot him.”

I looked up at the sky. It was gray and bleak, as if it were mourning too. “She was fourteen. Rain was older than that. She was seventeen. People acted as if it was worse that a fourteen year was murdered than a seventeen year old. It is horrible no matter. It does not matter how old you are.” I choked on my words. “She was supposed to rest in peace, not in pieces.”

“I am sorry.”

“You already said that.”

“I feel like I need to say it again.” He cleared his throat, and then unstrapped the Velcro from his gloves and ripped them off, dropped them onto the ground beside his large and bulky hockey skates, and tore off his beanie hat. He ran a hand through his black hair that matched his olive, Hispanic skin tone. “What was she like? Rain, I mean.”

I turned to look at him, away from the gray and bleak sky that felt so ominous, so looming, and so sad that I felt my heartstrings beginning to burst just looking at it. I almost felt glad that it was a bright and sunny day that she was taken. That when she was pressed on the ground that she had a warm, blue sky to look toward. “Rain was beautiful. Rain was fast.”

Rain was.

“Did she like the color blue?”

“No. She thought it was too generic. Everyone’s favorite is blue, she said. She loved purple.”

“The color of royalty.”

“That’s what she said.” I almost felt like smiling. I think Franklin noticed.

“Did she eat apples?”

“She loved apples, especially the green ones.”

“Granny Smiths.”

“They’re so sour, she loved it.” Then I did smile. Then he definitely did notice. “She liked the faces a really, really sour one made her make, how it would purse her lips and wrinkle her nose. But I think she just exaggerated it to make me laugh.”

“Did she read books?”

“She loved reading, sometimes she would read me to sleep.”

“Did she put marshmallows in her hot chocolate?”

“Yeah, but never the ones from those packages with the ones already in them. She hated those. They weren’t real marshmallows she said. Dehydrated memories of a marshmallow, she called them.”

He kept asking me questions like that, about her, about Rain. Which Muppet was her favorite, if she liked spicy food, if she wore socks when she slept, if she was an early bird or a night owl. I never would have admitted it to him as he asked various enquiries about the kind of person Rain was, asking me to imitate her laugh, and if her smile was kind of crooked like mine, but it felt almost okay to talk about her. My mother never could without crying, without swallowing back tears she had cried so many times before, and my father got angry when she was mentioned. I think if he remembered her then he remembered him and his mean, murky blue eyes so he tried never to think about her.

It felt almost okay to talk about Rain and not about the fact that she was gone, not that she was not whole, not that she was alone and afraid on Christmas Eve but that she liked Granny Smith apples, that her favorite Muppet was Beaker, that she slept barefoot. That Rain was not just a name on a list of short lives that were stolen by a man with mean, murky blue eyes. That Rain had more than just her last moments.

“I could come back tomorrow,” Franklin offered as the sun slipped away into the pine trees of the distant woods my sister supposedly was buried in and he picked up the hockey skates he never touched. He dusted the snowflakes from them. “I could ask you if she liked extra butter on her popcorn or diet drinks instead of regular ones.”

“No and no,” I replied.

I thought his face fell for a moment. I was confused. I replayed my last sentence in my mind. And then I felt my eyes instinctively widen and my mouth drop, my head shaking from side to side. “No, that is not what I meant! I meant that she, um, did not like extra butter on her popcorn or diet drinks. Not that you should not come back tomorrow but it is Christmas tomorrow so you will probably be busy and I might be too. My mother does try to pretend that Christmas is a normal holiday. She is not very good at it, but she tries.”

He smiled at me. “I could come here to practice around noon tomorrow. And if you are here then ... well, you will be here. We will probably exchange a word or two or something and ... ”

“I thought you only practiced on Wednesdays.”

“Well, I do suck so maybe adding Thursday practices to my day planner would be a good idea.”

I smiled down at the glimmering snowflakes beneath me. They looked like sparkling, fragile pieces of crystal accumulating on the ground. “Yeah,” I murmured, softly. “Maybe it would be.”

He grinned at me.

I felt the flutter my sister told me I would feel when I looked at a certain boy.

Rain was gone.

Rain was not whole.

Rain was not coming back.

But I think Rain was proud.

I think Rain is proud.

@fluffybunsss @thegreatsaiyaman3 @keenu-loves-to-talk-talkytalky @thelastdream @the-living-typo @quoted-text @nerdyfuntheorist @obsessedwithparkjimin @user-with-a-name @carmen-riddle @tookoool @kritiwritesss

[collecting-stories]

High - JJ (Outer Banks)

Request: First of all, I’m a big fan of your writing :)) do you write imagines based off of songs? If yes, maybe one based on High by 5 Seconds of Summer? With JJ from outer banks

A/N: So this is basically broken up into like different moments in the relationship between the reader and JJ. 

\\\

Scarlett was droning on about something that Kelce had said to her as you stood by the drinks counter, waiting for the smoothies she had ordered. The spinach and mango, so she said, was amazing for complexion. While she talked your eyes scanned the lobby of the country club. You had a decent view of the dining room from where you were and you caught a glimpse of blond passing the doors just as you looked over.  

“So I told him it’s over with us.”  

“Yeah, I don’t blame you.” You replied, mindlessly, as you waited for the doors to the kitchen to open again.

“Sarah wants to go to Chapel Hill tomorrow but like, I don’t know, I just don’t think my head is in doing a day out. Like I just need to focus on putting myself back out there.”  

“Yeah...you should.”  

The kitchen doors opened and you smiled as you saw JJ walk out, server’s outfit on and carrying basin for the dishes under one arm. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and opened a text to him.  

-I can see you-

-stalker. do I look hot?- He replied.  

-I couldn’t tell-

JJ left the basin on an empty table and walked over to the dining room doors, looking across the lobby to see you at the juice counter. You smiled and winked at him before texting again.

-Oh yeah, super hot-

-God you’re so obsessed with me-

You bit your lip to stop from laughing and drawing Scarlett’s attention away from telling the girl behind the juice counter about her breakup.  

-It’s cause you’re so hot-

-you must feel so lucky I’m your boyfriend-

“What do you think?” Scarlett asked, turning to you.

“What?” You looked over at her, realizing too late that you had zoned out of the conversation for too long. You had no idea what she was asking.  

“I swear to god. First I can’t rely on Kelce and now you’re off in la la land fucking texting when I’m trying to talk to you. My therapist said that people just keep letting me down and it’s so true.”

“I’m sorry Scarlett, I’m not trying to ‘let you down’. Look, lets go do yoga okay? You’ll feel better. It’s bikram, we can sweat out all our problems.” You promised, grabbing your smoothie.

“Fine.” Scarlett nodded, grabbing her own smoothie and looking across the lobby. JJ was still in the doorway of the dining room, watching the both of you, and she frowned. “Ugh, I can’t stand these losers they employ.”

“What?” You looked over at JJ. He smiled and then disappeared back into the dining room.  

“Gross.” Scarlett muttered, linking her arm with yours and leading you away.  

-

“Come here,” JJ held his hand out for you as the boat slowed to a stop. You grasped his hand in yours and stepped off the dock, boarding the HMS Pogue. When you were safely on board he yanked on your hand to pull you against him, smiling when you gripped his shirt to keep yourself upright. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You barely got out a greeting as he leaned down and kissed you. It was still off-season, a little colder than usual, and JJ had his grey sweatshirt on. You were particularly fond of the sweatshirt, as stupid as it sounded. It was warm and soft and smelled like the flavored vape he was smoking. “I brought you present,” you said, once he had pulled away.

“Is the present alcohol?” He asked, smiling when you pulled away to grab the cooler and blanket that were still on the dock. “Oh my god, have I ever told you how perfect you are?”

“You are so full of shit Jay.” You laughed.

“So where are you right now?” He joked. Your mom had been urging you to date someone for almost a year now, talking about how your friends all seemed to be getting together and didn’t you want to have someone in your life like that. She didn’t know that you had been dating. You and JJ had been together for almost as long as she had been pestering you.  

Your friends didn’t know either. They had no idea that every time you blew off plans or disappeared for afternoons at a time you were meeting up with JJ. If they knew, if your parents knew, you’d probably be locked in your room, Rapunzel style. Being a kook meant that your parents had a lot of expectations for you and none of them involved you running around the outer banks with a boy like JJ.  

It didn’t matter that you were 100% positive that you loved him or that you had been thinking more and more about the future. All that would matter if your parents or your friends knew was that you were dating a Pogue. And, maybe worse than that, a Maybank.

“Oh, I’m at a campus visitation day in Chapel Hill. Checking out the college, you know.” You replied, sitting down on the bench while JJ guided the boat away from the dock.  

“How’s it looking?”

“The guys are way hotter than I thought they’d be.” You teased, smiling when he looked back at you.  

JJ’s friends knew about you. Countless days had been spent with Kiara and the guys at the Chateau or out on the marsh. They were all infinitely cooler than your own friends and you loved hanging out with them. You would trade being a kook for being a pogue in an instant if it meant never having to go to a stupid house party or listen to Topper’s bullshit ever again. You would have traded anything in the world for the chance to spend all day on the marsh with JJ.  

-

Midsummers was filled with stuffy old rich people and their families and, though you fell under that category, you were bored out of your mind. You’d topped off every drink at your parents’ table as they chatted mindlessly about OBX and weather and business. Your options for the evening were slim. Hang at the table and listen to the most boring conversations known to man or venture out to find Scarlett and Topper and Kelce. The party was in full swing and the air outside, even after the sun had set, was warm. You felt like your dress was sticking to you.  

“Mom, I’ll be right back.”  

“Sure hon.” Your mother waved you off as you headed inside the country club. At least it was air conditioned inside.  

You turned the corner by the stairs, heading for the locker room when some grabbed you. An arm around your waist and a hand pressed to your mouth. You almost screamed but the familiar sensation of cold metal mixed with warm skin told you exactly who the hand covering your mouth belonged to.  

JJ.  

He pulled you into the coat room, finally letting you go to switch on the light.  

“You gave me a heart attack. What the fuck?” You laughed, smacking his arm.  

“Sorry babe, you look fucking hot by the way.”  

“You’re so romantic.” You rolled your eyes at him but leaned in, kissing him anyway. You’d spent all day yesterday with your mom in Chapel Hill and all day today ‘preparing’ for midsummers. This was the first time in over 48 hours that you had seen JJ.  

As he kissed you back his hands went to your waist. He guided you back against the wall, laughing when you got ambushed by unnecessary coats. “Fuck.”  

“Come here.” He switched places with you and sat down on the ground, tugging on your hand to get you on the floor with him. You bunched the long skirt of your dress up to your thighs as you sat on his lap, knees scrapping against the scratchy fabric of the carpet. You were dead if you got caught and he was definitely fired.  

When he leaned in you put a hand on his chest to stop him, “Oh, by the way, I'm not doing it on the floor of the coat room.”  

“But this is so romantic.” He joked, kissing you.

“JJ, I’m serious.”

“Chill,” he held your face in his hands, meeting your eyes, “I just wanna mack on my super hot girlfriend.”

“God you have such a way with words.” You teased.  

“I missed you.”

“Missed you too.”

You kissed him, hands unbuttoning his vest and shirt despite what you had said. John B always joked that the two of you were all over each other and it was probably true. Whenever you were around JJ you just wanted to be as close to him as possible. You felt him suck in his stomach at the sensation of your hands running across his skin. You shifted, kissing his neck with the sole intention of getting him back for the hickey you had almost been grounded over.  

JJ leaned his head back against the wall, giving you more access. His hands found the zipper to your dress and you shrugging out of the top half of your off the shoulder lavender gown. You kissed your way up his throat to his chin and then all the sudden your mother’s voice could be heard right outside the coat room, calling your name, and JJ shot up, smacking his head against the bridge of your nose and sending you back on your ass.

“Oh my god!” you practically whined, holding your nose with one hand as you tried to fix your dress with the other.  

“Oh shit, shit, shit, shit. I’m so sorry.” JJ whispered, grabbing his bowtie and holding it out for you to use as a handkerchief so no blood would get on your dress. “Are you okay?”

“Help me with my dress?” You begged.  

JJ helped you stand up and then proceeded to fix your dress for you, straightening it out and helping you slip your arms in so he could zip it back up. The whole time he apologized profusely. Outside the door your mother called your name again.  

You walked over to the door, peeking out. She’d wandered far enough down the hall that you could sneak out. “Mom,” you called once you came out of the coat room. JJ stayed back, fixing his shirt and vest.

“Oh my god, honey, what happened to you?”  

“I was in the locker room and I banged my face on the door.” You lied, JJ’s bowtie still pressed to your nose.  

Your mom gaped at you until she caught sight of JJ over your shoulder. “You!” She called and he stopped dead in his tracks.  

“Uh, yeah?”

“Take my daughter to get cleaned up please.” She instructed, “go with him okay sweetie.”

“Okay.” You turned to look at JJ and smiled as you followed him to the kitchen.  

“Come right back out when you’re done!” Your mother called after you.  

-

The first time you had ever crossed paths with JJ he was just some kid from the cut. You had texted a friend about where to get the best weed and they had offered to give you their dealer’s number. You’d been surprised when the dealer turned out to be the same age as you. Cute, blond, tall, so high. You had seen JJ around before, his face was pretty familiar, but you didn’t really know him at all. And he might’ve remained just some kid from the cut if you hadn’t asked him to hang out that first day.  

“Hey, uh...I’ve never actually smoked before.” You admitted, playing with the blunt that he’d sold you.  

“It’s not hard.” He shrugged.

Your parents were out for the day and you were sitting on the dock with JJ. He’d come over on the HMS Pogue on his way to meet up with John B and Pope. You had looked nervous, standing on the dock waiting for him to show up. The first thing you’d said when he pulled up was that you. had never done a ‘drug deal’ before. He’d almost laughed out loud.  

“I just, my friends kinda ditched me for the afternoon cause my mom said I can’t go to Chapel Hill and I don’t want to seem super lame, like smoking by myself.” You explained. How sad would you be sitting around and smoking a blunt all alone while your friends went shopping.  

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

“I mean...do you wanna hang out?”

“You wanna hang out with me?” JJ asked, even the haze of his high couldn’t convince him that was a normal request.  

“Yeah?” You shrugged. You’d never hung out with anyone from the cut before but you were bored and, if you were going to start ‘slumming it’ as Topper said, you might as well start with JJ.  

“Yeah okay, but I’m not giving you a discount.”  

“I don’t want a discount!” You laughed.  

-

The boneyard was crowded. Kooks, Tourons, Pogues. Everyone was there for a beginning of the summer party. You had donated the keg money after JJ spent his portion of the cost on weed. Kiara had almost lost it on him when you offered to give them the full amount. Still, you didn’t get to show up with them to the beach or even hang out with them. You were standing around with Kelce and Scarlett as they tried to draw everyone into their argument about who was ‘over’ who. You scanned the party, sipping on your beer as you looked for your boyfriend.

“Hey,”  

You looked back as someone pressed a hand against your back. Rafe.  

“Hey Rafe.” You side stepped out his touch.  

“What’s up, I haven’t seen you around much this summer.” He said, catching your friends’ attention.

“I think she’s got a secret boyfriend.” Scarlett piped up, “she’s always texting and canceling on plans. Took me weeks to get her to go to yoga with me.”

“I’ve been busy.” You replied. Across the way you saw JJ and John B getting beers. You watched your boyfriend adjust his red cap as he looked around. You could only hope he was looking for you.  

“Too busy to hang?” Rafe draped an arm around your shoulders and tried to draw you into his side.

“Obviously if you haven’t seen me around.” You replied, pulling away again. “I need a refill.”

“I’ll come with you.”  

You rolled your eyes as you walked down toward the keg, Rafe following on your heels. If there was anything that you hated about parties it was Rafe Cameron hanging around you. Kiara nodded to you as you approached them, tossing your old cup into the makeshift trash can she had set up to recycle.  

“Hey,” JJ smiled when he saw you.

“Hey, can I grab a beer?”  

“I’ll get one too man,” Rafe announced, his arm around your shoulders again.  

You pulled away once more, “seriously Rafe, get off.”

“Chill out.” He reached out for you, trying to grab your arm.  

JJ shoved him away, “she told you get off her man.”  

You shook your head at him, urging him silently to let it go. He knew that Rafe always bothered you because you’d told him about it countless times. But you didn’t want any trouble tonight. It was supposed to be a chill kegger and you had every intention of sneaking off early with JJ, which wouldn’t happen if he got into it with Rafe now.  

“Stay out of it Pogue.” Rafe tried to look intimidating, stepping up to get in JJ’s face.

“Guys, Rafe, come on.” You pulled on his arm and nodded back toward your group, waiting and watching to see if they needed to intervene.  

Just as Rafe turned to leave JJ spit a mouthful of beer at him, coating you too, and everything went to chaos. Rafe swung at him and JJ tackled him to the ground, throwing punches. John B pushed Kiara and Pope out of the way as Kelce, Topper, Scarlett, and Sarah ran over to see what was happening. As Rafe got his footing again people started to gather around in a circle.  

“JJ!” You shouted as Rafe punched him.  

“Come on,” John B grabbed your arm, pulling you toward him, “stay out of the way.”

“You filthy fucking Pogue.” Rafe shouted, “I’m gonna kill you.”

“Dude, come on, it’s not worth it.” Topper urged, trying to grab Rafe’s arm.

“Fucking try you pussy.” JJ was quick to bait Rafe, dodging a punch and then getting him with a right hook in the stomach.  

With Rafe on the ground John and Pope grabbed JJ, dragging him away from the fight as Topper helped Rafe to his feet. Kiara looked over at you when Scarlett called for you to follow them back to their side of the boneyard. You looked back to where John B was pulling JJ along the beach.  

“Where are you going?” Scarlett called when you took off in JJ’s direction.  

You ignored her, running over and stepping in their path, hands immediately going to JJ’s face. You brushed hair away from his eyes as he looked away from you.  

“I don’t wanna hear it.” He said.

“Too bad.”  

JJ pulled away and crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at the ground before he met your eyes. “I don’t need you to bitch me out, those guys are assholes, I’m sorry you’re friends with them but I’m not going act like they aren’t all dicks.”  

“I’m not gonna bitch you out.” You said.  

“What?”

“I’m not gonna bitch you out. Rafe’s a dick.”

“Then what do you want?” He asked, scuffing his foot in the sand.

You shrugged, “to make sure my boyfriend is okay? To tell him I love him.”

JJ bit his lip, smiling at you. Maybe it was the alcohol or the adrenaline from the fight but you thought that his eyes looked a little glassy as he looked at you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”  

“I love you too.” He reached out for you, pulling you close so that he could kiss you. He stopped just short, resting his forehead against yours, “you sure, cause I’m about to mack on you in front of everyone.”

“I was so hoping you would.”

-

Oh my god my Tumblr is literally so Outer Banks heavy right now and I don't even care. 

Starting a taglist for my Outer Banks stuff:

taglist: @poguesrforlife

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Day 14: The Test Results - Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia

Day 14: The Test Results - Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia 

Todays story was requested by @itspdameronthings​. Thank you so much for the request and I really hope you like it. This is the longest of all the stories I have written for the November Writing Challenge.

November Writing Challenge Masterlist 

Day 13: Water Flowed- Llewyn Davis 

Day 1 

“Do you have to go?” Your voice is quiet as you watch him pack his bags from your seat on the bed. 

“Querida, you know I don’t want to but they are asking me back as a favor AND I’m being compensated. I worked in Columbia for three years, it's where my mother was born. I feel like I need to do this,” he kneels in front of you, taking your hands in his own. “It’s only four months and I promise I will call and text you every single day. It’s killing me to leave you but...I feel I have to do this.” 

Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia was a former member of Delta Force in the US Military before leaving to go work for the DEA in Columbia. Three years ago, he left Columbia to return home but not without one final mission. He got together a few of his old buddies from the force and robbed a drug lord before killing him and fleeing the country. But something went wrong. Well… a lot of shit went wrong, resulting in the death of his old captain, Tom, and forcing them to leave millions of dollars off the side of a cliff buried in the snow. 

Santiago had accepted a temporary assignment with the DEA to return back to Columbia and train some new recruits. You were not one bit okay with this plan but the one thing you loved and also kind of hated about your husband was how headstrong he could be. Unfortunately, you are just as stubborn as him. The last few weeks leading up to his departure had been fraught with arguments. You didn’t want him to go. Even though it had been years since that last mission, you didn’t know what the situation down there was. Were they still hunting for the men who had robbed and gunned down Lorea? Was he walking into a trap? No money was worth losing the man you loved, and he didn’t seem to understand that. 

“You don’t have to do anything.” The words are bitter on your tongue and Santiago winces, before moving to stand. “We don’t need that money, and you have no idea what you walking into baby…” 

“Y/N, we have talked about this enough. I am going!” He slams the top of his suitcase closed before pulling the zipper harshly and walking towards the door. He turns sharply at the door pointing at you, “Why do you keep arguing with me about this? I have told you a million reasons why I need to do this! Instead of supporting me you're just fighting with me!” 

“I do support yo-” 

“Well, you sure have a funny way of showing it.” he swings his backpack on his back, puts on his hat and walks out the door. You’re on your feet in a hurry. “Goddamnit, Santiago! Will you just fucking listen to me for two minutes?”  You grab his shoulder and turn him to face you. He’s fuming and you can tell the volcano is seconds away from blowing. “I DO support you! I understand WHY you feel the need to do this but I LOVE YOU and I don’t want to LOSE YOU!” 

You're out of breath from shouting, and you see the anger slowly fade from his face as he comes to stand closer to you, “Querida...baby you're not going to lose me. I love you….so … damn … much. I never really felt alive until I met you, and no one,” he puts a finger under your chin and raises your eyes to his own, “no one is going to take me away from you.” 

“You can’t promise that…” Your words come out broken and a choked sob escapes you. “You don’t know what’s going to happen. Santi I can’t lose you. I won’t survive without you…” 

“Shhh.” He pulls you close and you collapse in a sobbing heap into his chest, your tears soaking the front of his t-shirt, his hands are strong as he holds you close. “I know nothing is one hundred percent but I love you and I am going to come home back to you. Nothing could ever keep me away.” He pulls you away from his chest, wiping your eyes before kissing you gently.

“I love you too Santi, so much.” You sigh into the kiss and hold him tight before he pulls away, walking towards the door, grabbing his duffle bag from the floor and walking out, taking your heart with him. 

Day 31 

Santiago kept good on his promise and called and texted every single day, each time letting you know he was safe and how much he loved you. He was working hard down there, and he loved the adventure, even if he missed you like crazy. You missed him too and the combination of being without your husband, taking care of the whole house, your shared basset hound, and work was draining. It was only a matter of time before you started feeling under the weather. You had been feeling fatigued, sore throat, cough, and after two days of vomiting throughout the day you had to admit it, you were sick. 

On your nightly call with Santi the worry in his voice warmed your heart. “Baby, you need to go to the doctor and get checked. Remember when you got bronchitis last year? It was pretty bad.” 

You hack into the receiver “Yeah, maybe you're right. I just feel like shit Nauseous all day long. Jonathon actually sent me home today. Said he was worried about me ‘infecting’ the office.” 

Santi mutters under his breath but you hear him and snort. “Yeah I agree he is a dick, but I appreciate being sent home. I’ll go to the urgent care tomorrow.” 

“Do you promise?” 

“Yes, I promise. I want to feel better...I just hate going to the doctor.” You recall the many times Santi had to drag you kicking and screaming (sometimes literally) to the doctor. 

“Why don’t you ask one of the guys to go with you?” 

“Maybe...Frankie mentioned he was off tomorrow when I called him yesterday....” 

“See. It was meant to be. Why don’t you text him after you hang up with me and he will make sure you go? Then I can rest easy tonight knowing you’re ok. I wish it were me though. I would take such good care of you baby.” 

“Oh yeah?” What would you do if you were here?” You snuggle down into the comforter with your box of tissues, hot tea, the humidifier and his deep soothing voice lulling you to sleep. 

It doesn’t take long before your soft snores fill the phone and Santi smiles to himself. Listening to the sounds of his love finally feeling at rest. When you wake up three hours later to throw up the light from your phone signifies a message. 

I called Frankie, he’s going to come by at 10 o’clock to take you for an appointment. I booked it online through the app. Get some rest and drink lots of fluids. I love you. - Hubby 

You smile before brushing your teeth and crawling back into the warmth of your bed and falling back to sleep, dreaming of your husband. 

Day 32 

The next morning Frankie rings the doorbell at exactly 9:45.Like all the other Delta Force guys (except Benny), they are meticulously early. You greet him with a cup of coffee with his own special airplane shaped mug, complete with his name engraved on the side. You knew that when you married Santiago, Frankie came as part of the package. 

“Hi Garcia, how ya feeling?” He wraps one arm around your shoulder and you lean into the embrace, placing your head on his arm. 

“To be completely honest Cat? I feel like shit.” 

Frankie lets out a small laugh before rubbing gentle circles on your back. “Well then let’s get you to the doctor. You got your insurance card?” 

“Yeah it’s in my bag.” You grab your brown knit bag, swinging it over your shoulder. 

“Then let’s get going.” He guides you out to his truck, helping you into the seat before running around the front to the driver's seat. 

About twenty minutes later you're pulling into the parking lot of your doctor. Frankie walks you inside helping you get signed in. It's another thirty minutes before you're put back into a room, sitting on crinkled tissue paper, Frankie reading back issues of People. The door opens and you sit up a little straighter. 

“Mrs. Garcia?” You nod. “I’m Dr. Jacobs. What can I help you with today?” 

You proceed to tell her what’s been going on and she goes through the motions, asking you all about your symptoms, checking your ears, nose, throat, and chest. When she's done she types everything into her tablet, “one more question, when was your last menstrual cycle?” 

You open your mouth to answer before closing it slowly. “When was my last...Oh. Uhm,” you laugh nervously at a loss for words, “about a month ago it should be starting any day now…” 

“Is there any chance you could be pregnant?” she asks, looking between you and Frankie. 

“Oh, he’s not my husband!” 

“I’m her husband's best friend. He’s out of the country.” 

“Well it sounds like you may have the flu but I would like to run some labs as well if that’s alright with you, and maybe a pregnancy test just to be sure?” 

You laugh. “Sure doc whatever you need, but I am not pregnant.” 

Day 35 

You swing your car haphazardly into the driveway narrowly missing a planter box and running over Mia’s pink bike. The front door slams open. Frankie is running down the driveway, yanking the car door open and pulling you into his arms. Your sobs are staining your cheeks and you're a blubbering mess. 

“Garcia! What the hell! Are you ok!?” Frankie checks you over. You shake your head frantically. 

“NO! No I am not ok!” you shout! “The test results came back!” 

“Oh god, is it bad!? Cancer? Diabetes? Fuck! Did Pope give you some kind of STD because I swear I will kick his ass for you!” 

“NO! God...no...I'm...Pregnant!” You break down in sobs and hold onto Frankie who starts to laugh. “Stop laughing! This is serious! Frankie!!” 

He chuckles squeezing you tighter, “Garcia this is wonderful! You're gonna be a mom and Santiago is going to be a daddy! Mia will have someone to play with. Fuck, I’m so happy for you guys.” You pull away to see a huge smile on his face. 

Some of his excitement rubs off on you and you rub your nose on the sleeve of your shirt before you smile, “I’m gonna be a mommy…oh shit Frankie what do I tell Santi?

“We will worry about that later. But right now let’s get you home and back to bed. You still have that cough and you need your rest.” 

Day 36 

“Hey baby. How is my favorite man?” 

“Oh Querida I miss you so much. I think I forgot how much I love being out in the field. The rush, the thrill. It’s addicting.” 

Your heart drops and for a minute you say nothing. How the hell could you tell him about the baby? He would want to come straight home and he’s loving the work.

“Everything is great here. Yeah, I got the test results yesterday from the lab and everything is normal. I just have the flu and since I’ve been off the last few days I’ve rested and drank lots of fluids and I am feeling much better.” 

“Oh good, I was so worried about you.” He sighs. “I got a new app on my phone that counts down to the second till I get to be back with you.. I love you so much Querida.” 

You bite your lip to keep from crying before letting out a shaky breath, “I love you too baby, and I can’t wait to see you soon.” 

The conversation shifts and when you hang up with your husband you shoot a quick text off to Frankie. 

Don’t mention ANYTHING about the pregnancy to Santiago. I’ll tell him when he gets home. 

What? Why? 

He loves being there and if we're going to have a baby then he's not going to be able to do this again. If I tell him you know he will just come home early. 

Ok...I still think you should tell him. You're going to need support though...he’s still going to be gone for three more months. 

Your right...Frankie...will you be my person? 

... of course. Get some sleep Garcia. 

Day 100 

Four months doesn’t seem like a long time. But when you're pregnant and missing your husband it seems like a lifetime. It had been one hundred days since Santi had left for South America and only twenty-two more days till he came home. When you did the math in your head you had become pregnant two weeks before Santi had left. Meaning you were well on your way to being a very noticeable pregnant woman. 

You had been shopping a couple times with Benny to Motherhood Maternity store to get some bigger clothes because yours refused to fit. Also a very interesting trip to Babies-R-Us where after much convincing he did not purchase the entire store for his future niece/nephew. Will had been attending your doctor and lab appointments with you. And sweet Frankie had been helping you around the house, getting groceries when you were too tired, keeping up the yard, and taking you and your dogs for walks to keep you moving. Your husband’s brothers had become your own, and you loved them for it. Only 22 more days. 

Day 120 

You're sitting at the kitchen table doing a puzzle with Will when Frankie comes in carrying takeout and a squirming Mia. He puts her down and she rushes toward you. 

“TIA GARCIA!” she screams, launching herself into your arms. 

“MIA!” you shout, squeezing her tightly before tickling her sides. She giggles before shimmying out of your lap and running to the kitchen. Coming back a moment later carefully balancing (at least as careful as a three year old can) a plate filled with watermelon to you. 

“Papa says this is for the baby,” she tells you in what could be called an attempted whisper but more like a shout. 

“Why are you whispering Mia?” 

“Papa says that I have guts to be quiet because the baby is sleeping.” She leans forward and hugs your slightly protruding belly before climbing into the kitchen chair across from you. 

You give Frankie an amused look and he smiles with a shrug before plating out the food. Pizza for them and watermelon for you. It’s all you seem to want anymore. “Oh come to mama.” You spear a piece before placing it in your mouth, moaning as the cold sweet juice goes down your throat. 

“So I’m taking you to the airport on Friday to pick up Santiago. Any ideas on how you're going to tell him?” Frankie asks, taking a large bite of pizza. 

“Well I think he’s going to know.” You gesture to your stomach, spearing another piece of melon. 

“I’ve been looking up ideas on how to tell people you're pregnant, and you could give him a jar of pasta sauce,” Will says and you all look at him like he’s nuts, “No, hear me out it’s Prego pasta sauce...get it, Prego?” 

You groan before taking another bite, “I think he’s going to notice I’m pregnant before I can even give him a jar of pasta sauce Will.” 

“Not if he doesn’t see your stomach first…” Frankie says, “what if you made a sign?” 

“A sign?” 

“Yeah like when we used to come home from a tour and the families would have signs. You could make a sign!” 

You think about it for a minute before you fall in love with the idea. You go to the office and come back with a couple poster boards you kept for work presentations. You place one in front of Mia who squeals and grabs one of the markers you provide. You get to work outlining the words and filling them in with his favorite colors blue and red. When completed, you lift it up and show it to the others.

“That’s perfect!” Frankie beams. 

“Bet you 50 bucks he cries,” Will says. 

“Deal,” they slap hands and you glare, before smiling at the two. Only two more days. 

Day 122 - Santiago Comes Home 

You feel sick, what if he doesn’t want to have a baby? Will he be mad I kept this from him? Shit, maybe this was a terrible idea. What the hell was I thinking? 

“Garcia, you need to calm down, you're making me stressed.” 

“What if he doesn’t want this? What if he is disappointed? What if-” Frankie stands up and puts his hands on your shoulders. 

“Garcia listened to me. Santiago loves you more than anything in this entire world and he is going to love this baby just as much maybe even more. He may be surprised yeah but trust me. Once he wraps his brain around it, he’s going to be ecstatic.” He pulls you in for a hug and you take a deep breath, calming your nerves. 

The constant flow of travelers does nothing to lessen your anxiety. You take a deep breath and almost choke on the smell of espresso from the nearby Starbucks. Frankie gives you one last squeeze before handing you the sign and stepping back as people flood out of the gate. 

You rise to your tiptoes in search for a familiar head of salt and pepper curls. When in a break of the crowd you see him, running in a full sprint towards you. His face split into a megawatt smile. As he gets close enough to touch, you hold up the sign. He slows down slightly as he reads and you watch the smile fade only slightly before it’s replaced by shock. 

Welcome home daddy 

He reaches forward, holding tight to the poster board and slowly lowering it, eyes transfixed at your swollen belly. Silence. His hands shake as they put the sign on the floor, his eyes never leaving you. Your heart races and you feel the urge to vomit return again before he drops to his knees. 

You wince, “Baby, your knees…” reaching down to pull him up, but he makes no move to stand, his hands coming to your stomach. Placing his lips gently over your shirt. His forehead rests against you and tears drench your shirt. The baby chooses that moment to make their presence known kicking softly against his cheek. You run your hands through his curls and he looks up at you with a watery smile and a small laugh. 

“Querida, you’re pregnant. We’re...we’re having a baby…” he sniffles and you can’t help the tears in your own eyes. “Why...why didn’t you tell me? I would have come home…”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t. You’ve been so happy these past few months and I knew you needed to do this. Yes, I was scared as hell about losing you but...I understood.” 

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers before shakily getting to his feet and clutching you tight, his hands frame your face and he pulls you close getting lost in the kiss, “I love you...so fucking much,” he whispers putting his forehead against your own. “I love you too. I’m so glad your home… I mean the guys have been great but I’m excited to go shopping for baby stuff with you, attend my doctor appointments together, and have you bring me platefuls of watermelon.” 

He laughs pulling back, “Watermelon? Is that what you’ve been craving?” 

“Oh god yes, even talking about it makes my mouth water.” 

“If that is what you want Querida, then you can have as much as you desire,” he kisses you again. 

A cough sounds from behind and you turn to see Frankie smiling at you.  Santi reaches out to give him a slap on the back, the two conversing in Spanish. You hold your hand out and Santi latches on, never letting go as you make your way through the terminal and out to the truck. 

The world passes by in a kaleidoscope of color as Frankie drives you both home. Arriving, you thank him before leading Santi by the hand and into the house. When the door is latched behind you, he presses you into the door gently. Every touch, every caress, left you breathless. His lips warm and wet against your own. When you take a breath his tongue snakes inside and he drags you from the door, striping each other, leaving a trail of clothes to the bedroom. 

After you’ve been thoroughly fucked and your wrapped up in Santiago’s strong arms, legs intertwined together, and he’s rubbing your belly do you finally relax. Sighing into his chest, and kissing it lightly. “Your really happy about the baby?” you whisper, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you. 

His grip around you tightens, “I promise you, I am very happy about the baby. You made me a daddy Querida. I love you...so much.” 

You sigh, “I love you too.” 

3 months later 

Eight months of pregnancy has flown by. After Santi got home from Columbia he took over doing everything. Attending your appointments together, buying and building things for the nursery, and bringing you platefuls of watermelon at all times of the day and night. Santiago takes the roll of daddy very seriously. All of those year in the military have come into play the last few months as he has transformed your house into a fortress. God help anyone that tries to hurt you or your unborn daughter. 

It started small with a few extra cameras on the perimeter, then installing a new indoor security system. A new fence was put up around the pool two months ago, and most recently the baby monitors set up throughout the house. He was beginning to drive you a little insane and you honestly just wanted him to lay off a bit. The perfect opportunity arose one fateful morning during breakfast. 

“So I’ve been thinking Querida, how do you feel about putting carpet on the floor of the nursery?” 

Part 2: Carpet (If you haven’t read it, check it out!)

Day 15: Just Walk Away- Ezra (Prospect) 

[maybe-your-left]

GETTING CAUGHT HAVING SEX BY PARENTS WITH EITHER SACKLER OR ALTMAN!💖🥰

MY ANGEL, I LOVE YOU😘😘😘😘

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE KITTEN. 

PHILLIP ALTMAN

“I can’t believe we have to sleep in the basement...” 

You patted Phillip's shoulder, handing him a pile of blankets with a small smile, “It's okay, your sister needed to use your bedroom and we’ll be okay down here.” 

“But,” Phillip tossed the blankets down before wrapping you in his arms. Softly swaying you as you both stood, “I really wanted to make you squirt in my teenage bedroom.” 

“Phil!” you swatted him, trying to push away. 

“I know, I’m ashamed... but you look so pretty when you do.” 

You cocked a brow, eyes darting towards the fold-out bed and then up to Phillip's face. His eyebrows shot up, mouth making an ‘o’, “You dirty minx, you want me to make you squirt here? In my family basement? Next to the laundry?” 

“I guess we would have easier cleanup.” 

Phillip threw you to the bed, already yanking your leggings down to your ankles before pinning your legs to your chest. Your pussy lifted in the air, right under his chin as he rubbed his beard into your clit. Scratching the sensitive nub, making it twitch in pleasure. You let out a soft yip, hugging your ankles tighter with anticipation. Phillips tongue darted out, licking from your cunt to clit, flicking it over and over as it stiffened more and more. “Philly,” whimpered, bottom lip trembling as he lapped at you over and over. 

“What is it? Does my minx want something?” 

You nodded, spreading your legs enough for your face to pop out for him. Clenching in his face for you to notice how eager for him to shove anything into you. Phillip nodded in understanding, “Keep your legs up,” he demanded. Pulling off the bed to abandon his shoes before losing his belt. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt up before smacking the outside of both your thighs. Watching the supple flesh jiggle before he gripped them tightly and rocked your body towards him. A hand flew to his zipper, yanking it down to pull out his hard cock. Phillip placed a forearm across the back of your thighs, pulling one of your hands to wrap around his girth. 

“Play with me, play with your favorite toy minx.” 

Your hand squeezed his base, his knees moving his body closer to your hand as he spat on your pussy. Without warning Phillip shoved two fingers until you, hooking them to immediately attack your special bundle of nerves on your front wall. Pulling a wail from your throat in response, your hand stroking him harshly. Your walls began clenching over and over as he fingered you, faster than he ever had. You took in the sight of him, focusing so hard on making you cum. His bicep bulging out of his shirt, his forearm clenched on your legs. The vein on the side of his neck straining against his skin, his soft mouth was popped open in awe as your pussy opened for him. Allowing him to worm in a third finger, “You’re so good for me, you’d do anything to make me happy wouldn’t you?” 

“Yes! Phil!” you slipped your fist on his tip over and over. Squeezing over and over as you passed the ridge, gathering his precum and gliding it along his length. Phillip groaned at you, eyes momentarily closing in bliss as his fingers let up. You whined at the loss, bucking as much as you could in your current position. 

“You know what would make me so fucking happy?” 

You shook your head. 

“If you squirted,” he fucked into you fast and hard, your slick gushing out of you as he moaned. “Want you to soak my sleeve, can you do that for me? I can feel how bad you want to.” 

“Ah! Please, just a little more!” 

Phillip nodded at you, moving his free hand to press into your folded lower abdomen. Applying just enough pressure for you to crack, convulsing in his grip as you wailed. Pussy squirting over and over along him, just as he asked for, your cum running down his forearm as he looked at you in awe. 

“Again baby.” 

You cried, body aching but you couldn’t stop yourself. His fingers wouldn’t stop fucking into you to stop you from cumming again. You brought a hand up to gather some of your spend, clicking it along his length as you tried to give him a hand job while he made you fountain for him. Phillip groaned, wrapping his lips around your clit in appreciation. Moaning as he tasted your cum, easing one finger out of you, softly petting your walls with his middle and forefinger. 

You were drunk on him, eyes lazily opening as you stared at the stairs to your left. Breath catching in your throat when you saw Phillip’s mom momentarily stalled in the middle of the stairs. 

“I heard commotion, but I see you both are just fine...” 

“Mommy!” Phillip cried, his palm trying to cover your sex from his therapist mom’s eyes, “Announce yourself next time!” 

She pranced back up the stairs, yelling over her shoulder before the door shut. 

“Like you could hear me over her screams!” 

ADAM SACKLER

“Hey,” you snapped in Adam’s face, “You need to be good today. This is your first impression, and they weren’t thrilled when you made sex noises the other day while I was on the phone.” 

“Your sister laughed. I heard her.” 

You rolled your eyes as you straightened the collar on his shirt. He looked ridiculous, you had dressed him in some nice pants and a button-up, something he didn’t even own until 24 hours ago. He was much too big for normal shirt sizes at the store, his biceps looked like they were going to explode out at any moment. And the pants left little to the imagination, thank god you found dark slacks so his bulge wasn’t noticeable to the naked eye. But your parents were taking you and Adam to a nice restaurant before going back to the house for dessert. He scratched at his neck after you finished, whining when you swatted his hands away. “Fuck, I can’t breathe,” Adam cried, “I look like I mugged a bellboy and stole his clothes.” 

“You look very responsible baby,” you kissed his cheek before walking to the front door, grabbing your clutch and opening the front door. “Let's go, before you rip that shirt.”

Your parents were civil at dinner, asking Adam questions about his theater work and woodworking. About hobbies and interests outside of his main focus, where he was from, other nosey questions that he handled like a champ. If it weren’t for the flashcard training you made him go through the past week he probably would’ve gone on a personal tangent about his personal opinions on the salad your dad chose to eat but he knew you wanted him to make a good impression. You were so proud of him, holding his hand under the table and squeezing it when he made a smart joke, or made your mom blush when he gave her a slightly offhand compliment. By the end of it, you could tell he was drained from being personable, his trademark smile was fading as it dragged on. Finally your parents paid the bill and asked you both to follow them home. 

Adam let out a big groan when he got into the car, throwing his face towards you as he sighed, “Kid, that was exhausting. This shirt is so uncomfortable and I couldn’t touch you under the table the entire time because your dad was watching me like a hawk.” 

“You did so well,” you grabbed his cheeks and gave him a big kiss. Lingering long enough for him to relax into you, humming as your lips worked over one another. Softly tasting each other, Adam’s tongue briefly licked into your mouth, forcing your jaw to open enough to take him. A warm palm slid to your bare thigh, peaking through the slit in your dress. A deep groan sounded into your mouths as he whispered on your lips, “And you looked so good, it took everything in me to devour you. So soft, all for me.” 

You smiled, nudging his hand away, “Come on, they are going to be mad if we're late.” 

Dessert was quick, all of you flooding into the den where your parents told stories about their college years and courtship. You could tell Adam was checked out, focusing on you more than anything else. After a few glasses of wine, you were feeling flush, turning your attention to your handsome man. Watching you with total admiration and devotion, you wanted to eat him up. And you found that you couldn’t wait to get home. 

“I’ll be right back,” you told the room, slowly sauntering away. Letting your hips sway just a little too much, but you knew your parents didn’t notice. They were too into whatever they were talking about to see you and Adam eye-fucking each other. As you turned the corner, you heard Adam excuse himself to the kitchen to get some water, your parents paying him no mind either. The two of your locked eyes, Adam’s completely black as they raked up and down your figure. You gave him a big smile before running up the stairs, Adam's footsteps following close behind. 

The door to your childhood bedroom was soon shut as softly as possible before Adam had you pinned to the mattress. Facedown as you giggled at him, hands fisting the sheets as you heard him fall to his knees behind you, his large hands pushing your skirt above your hips. 

“You’re such a dirty slut,” Adam groaned, pulling your panties to the side before he shoved his mouth to your folds. Licking deep through them, tasting every inch of your flesh. His thumbs hooked into you, prying you apart so he could look in awe, “Fucking best cunt ever, been teasing me with it all night. Not letting me fuck it before we left.” 

You moaned when he dove in again, strong tongue fucking in and out of your entrance. Slurping up your slick that poured into his mouth, filling the room with the sound of your excited sex. You rocked your hips back into him, mouthing at the sheets as he groaned into you, “Coulda filled you with my cum, made you sit in it all night.” 

“Sackler...” 

“You want like that? Having to sit across from your dad full of my cum? He’d be so disappointed in what a filthy slut you are.” 

Adm smacked your thigh, a little too loud, before standing up. He ran his hands across your ass, gripping and bouncing your cheeks as he ground his slacks into you. “M gonna fuck you, right here. Make them hear you and all the pretty noises you make for me.” 

“Please,” your voice broke as you looked back at him. Your mascara slightly clumping from the tears that were building from the teasing. “Give me your cum, wanna feel it deep inside me. Please Sackler.” 

His zipper was pulled down, yanking his slacks down mid-thigh while he fished his cock out. Lewdly smacking it on your cheeks to leave a smear of precum, slipping it between your legs as fucking your clit a few times. “You gonna show me? How deep I can bury my cum inside your little cunt?” 

You clenched in anticipation, his head at your entrance as you nodded, “I’ll show you, baby, want your cum.” 

Adam growled as he pushed in, seating himself to the hilt. Cock head rubbing your cervix before he pulled back, beginning to thrust wildly into you without abandon. Both of you creating a symphony of moans, bare skin slapping against one another as you gushed around him. Adam laughed as he fucked you, “Fuckin’ tight cunt, always so wet for me. You like me fucking you here, letting your family know what a slut-.” 

The door creaked open, both of you freezing, Adam’s cock buried inside you as your mom’s head popped in. 

“Hey, sweetie, letting you know we’re headed to b-Oh my god!” 

“Mom!” 

She squealed again, eyes darting back and forth between Adams sweaty smile and your fucked out face. She slapped a palm over her eyes, backing out of the room, “I’m sorry! I should’ve knocked-oh my- we’re going to bed!” 

You heard her footsteps scurry away, leaving the door slightly ajar in her haste. Adam laughed, thrusting into you harshly as he smacked your ass, “They are never going to forgive me for this.” 

You giggled at him, bouncing back, desperate to finish. Adam groaned as you clenched around him, canting his hips harder into you. Pounding your cervix with each thrust, he bent over your body. Chest flush with your back as he licked your ear, “Too bad it wasn’t your dad.” 

[hongism]

tease - khj x reader x cs

one shOT TIME! based off this ask from the thirst asks, i couldn’t resist turning it into an imagine and thank you so much boo for being okay with it being an imagine too!

@multifandomgirl37 asked:

“The thing is sirs. *fidgets more and blushes deeply* I've never done this before. Could you teach me? Please?”

genre: smut smut smut with a wee bit of fluff

pairing: hongjoong x reader x san

word count: 4.5k

summary: after teasing the shit out of your boyfriends, you admit that you’ve never actually given a blowjob before. so what’s the harm in asking them to teach you? a lot, there is a lot of harm actually

warnings: oral sex (m), unprotected sex (wrap it tf up kiddos), slight degradation and punishment, creampie, gentle dom joong, hard dom san

also thank you uwu to miss @hobisbeautifulass and miss @thinksshesawolf my wonderful tumblr moms who gave this a read beforehand for me ily both so so much 🥺💝

title: tease

fitting? maybe. self indulgent moment to use this gif? definitely

...

Hongjoong releases a small sigh then stoops down so that he’s eye level with you. Just squatting isn’t enough to be exactly eye level with you though, so you press yourself upwards a bit more, kneeling with more weight on your knees. They sting a bit from the pressure of the wood floor, and you shift a bit to relieve the pressure. You can’t look Hongjoong in the eye, so you avoid his gaze in favor of looking at San’s feet.

“Princess,” Hongjoong says, head tilting to get a better look at you. His fingers find your chin. You let him tug your face back towards him, the gentleness in the touch so feather light that you barely feel it.

The two of you look at each other in silence for a moment, Hongjoong’s gaze full of warmth and love as he looks down at you. His thumb traces small circles over your chin then lands on your lower lip. He tugs lightly on the skin there. You immediately drop your jaw to allow him access to your mouth, and Hongjoong smiles at your quick instincts.

“I’ll teach you, baby girl. Just listen to sir, alright? Open up your mouth a little more so I can put fingers in.” Hongjoong’s tongue slides to the corner of his mouth and toys with the skin there, eyes transfixed on your mouth as you drop your jaw a bit more. “Good girl,” he whispers before slipping two fingers in. “Now play with my fingers a bit. Give a few experimental sucks, swirl your tongue around a bit, try bobbing up and down some. Don’t take too much at once, okay?” You do as asked and slowly moved your tongue around his fingers, angling and twisting them as you experiment. You want to ask if you’re doing it right or if you’re at least doing well, but you can’t speak while he’s pressing your tongue down so hard.

Out the corner of your eye, San moves, shifting out of your peripheral vision until you can’t see him anymore. You’d ask where he’s going but the second your gaze drifts off Hongjoong, he presses his fingers further into your mouth.

“Focus, princess. You wanna suck me off, right? I won’t let you if you aren’t ready.”

You nod in response, and a bit of spit pools in your mouth. Hongjoong gives an experimental thrust with his fingers, watching your expression carefully as he does so. You match the thrust with one of your own and take the rest of the length of his fingers into your mouth, his middle finger hitting the back of your throat. A whine slips from your lips, along with a line of spit. Both you and Hongjoong look equally surprised by the reaction.

“Fuck,” Hongjoong exhales. He immediately pull his fingers out of your mouth and stands up straight, hands fiddling with his belt in a frantic haste. “Are you ready? I need you to suck me off right now.” You nod with an equal amount of fervor, sitting up a bit straighter, and drop your hands onto Hongjoong’s thighs.

“Le-let me. I wanna...” You trail off, eyes trailing over the bulge in his pants. Hongjoong continues working though and yanks his belt off only to drop it next to you. “S-Sir please? Sannie asked me to take your pants off with m-my teeth.” Saying the words brings a deeper blush to your cheeks, but apparently Hongjoong likes it because a low groan leaves his lips. You don’t waste any more time in reaching forward to grab his zipper between your teeth and yank down, hands sliding up to his hips. Thankfully, Hongjoong is a bit impatient and saves you the trouble of taking his pants off with only your teeth, because he pushes them to the floor. He moves to do the same with his underwear but you’re too quick, and you snag the band between your teeth, giving a teasing smile as you do.

“You’re such a little brat, princess.” You laugh through the material, vibrations cascading over the hard outline of Hongjoong’s cock, and he jerks his hips in response.

“Are you oversensitive sir?” You ask as you tug his underwear down, the smile on your lips never leaving. Hongjoong groans as you grab hold of him, one hand sliding around the base while your mouth begins to press a row of kiss up his length. “Who’s the needy one now?” You poke your tongue out in attempts to give him a few kitten licks but that opportunity is swiftly taken away from you. Something grabs hold of your hair, tugging you back, and you yelp in surprise, thighs pressing together so hard that it burns.

“You’d best keep that mouth under control, kitten.” It’s San who hisses into the shell of your ear, and his tongue darts out a moment later to tease one of your piercings. “Don’t forget you’re still getting punishment for misbehaving earlier. Hongjoong may be forgiving once he has his dick in your mouth, but I won’t be. If you are gonna act like a brat, then I’ll treat you as such, yea?” His hand leaves your hair after giving you a slight push towards Hongjoong’s waiting cock, and you whine at the lack of contact. You slip your mouth around Hongjoong without hesitation, pushing your anxiety to the side, and do exactly as he taught you earlier.

At least you try to because a moment later, there’s a buzzing in your ears and a hand slipping down the back of your shorts.

“Oh, no underwear?” San says with a laugh. “Such a dirty little slut.” The words have a visceral effect on you, sending a shiver up your spine, and you whine against Hongjoong’s cock. He hisses from the vibrations, one hand wrapping around the back of your head and holding you in place. “Spread your legs a bit for me, kitten.”

San’s voice returns to your ear, though this time he’s pressing his chest up against your back with one hand sliding to your breasts and the other heading straight for where you’re so desperate to have him.

“You may wanna pull up a chair, Joong. She’ll be falling apart in a few seconds.”

You slide your mouth off Hongjoong’s dick to send San a heated glare. “You wish.” The edge of his mouth twitches, almost reaching a smile, but he maintains the blank expression from before.

“Hands,” he demands as he moves his own off of you. You cock your head to the side in response, confused as to what San’s getting at, then you hear the clink of a belt and realize what’s happening. San smirks at you with Hongjoong’s belt in his hand. “You heard me, kitten.” A scoff leaves your lips first though, and you roll your eyes in response.

“Listen to Sannie, baby girl.” Hongjoong reaches forward and slides your hands off his thighs, grasping both your wrists. “Keep them together, okay? It won’t hold well if you try to move around a lot.” You nod along with Hongjoong’s word, letting him guide your wrists together so that San can wrap the belt around them. Said man slips it over your skin, not caring to be gentle, and the burn of the leather leaves your skin hot.

“Sannie,” you whine as he tightens the leather.

“Ah ah ah, kitten. That’s not my name.”

“Sir, sir please how am I supposed to blow Joong without my hands? I c-can’t...I can’t fit all of him in my mouth,” you mutter. Embarrassment creeps back to you, but San doesn’t give you a chance to breathe, instead smirking at your words.

“You hear that, Joongie? She can’t fit all of you in her little mouth. Such a precious slut you are, kitten.” San presses a kiss to the side of your face as he finishes tightening the belt around your wrists, a moment of softness and gentleness in the midst of his tough love act. “I’m sure you can figure something out.”

He replaces his lips with two fingers, pushing your face back towards Hongjoong -- well, Hongjoong's cock. You hadn't even noticed, but Hongjoong did indeed bring a chair over to where you're kneeling on the floor. It's an awkward position, a strange ordeal, and frankly if anyone were to walk in right now, they would likely be beyond weirded out by it. But all your focus is on the man in front of you and the one behind you, who tugs at the restraint around your wrists with one hand. San slips the other down the front of your shorts and presses harshly against your arousal.

"God, you're so wet. A fucking river down here. You that turned on by being a brat, kitten?" You whine in response, San's fingers flick over your nub, and you jolt forward. Without your hands, you can't catch yourself, but Hongjoong does, holding your chin carefully. "Come on, kitten, you said you were gonna suck Joongie. Get to it." San gives a little tug to your restraints, pushing you further forward, and you wrap your lips around Hongjoong again. "Give him a good show." San's fingers slide away from you, leaving you cold, and you whine at the lack of contact. It returns a moment later though, except in the form of small vibrations. It's not San's fingers this time, no, it's the cold silicon of a vibrator pressing up against you.

"Hngnh!" You cry out around Hongjoong's cock as he pushes it into you without warning. San laughs at your reaction, pressing another row of kisses down the length of your neck before settling at the juncture of your shoulder. Your whole body is on fire with the combined pleasure of San sucking marks against your skin and the vibrator up against your walls. San must have the remote too because the vibrations are changing like crazy every second and you can barely sit still enough to suck Hongjoong off.

"Behave, kitten, or else," San threatens, pulling off your neck for just a second. You release Hongjoong's cock with a small gasp, a thin trail of spit hanging off your lips, and tilt to look at San as he works on your neck. He lazily swipes his tongue across your skin and massages the small line of marks forming on you.

"Or else what?" You ask. You know it's toeing the line, a mild threat that will upset San, but you can't resist that possibility of punishment. San hesitates. Then all the sudden, the vibrations in you halt.

"Get off by yourself then. Let's see how well you can do it. I think we all know it wouldn't be nearly as good as my cock filling that tight little cunt, yea?" You whimper in response, the tug on your wrists intensifies, and San pushes you against Hongjoong's cock once more. "Go ahead and be a brat, kitten. Just know that brats get nothing from me. I won't touch you, listen to you, look at you, anything. And we know how much you hate being ignored."

"Quit fucking around, San." Hongjoong sighs and brings your mouth back to him, slipping into your wet heat again with a low groan. "She's doing so well sucking me off, just let her be long enough for me to cum. Look at her sucking like she’s always known what she’s doing. What a naughty girl." The praise sends shocks down your spine, tingles straight to your core, and whine around his dick. Frankly, you don't understand how San can degrade you once second and send you reeling, then the next Hongjoong can praise you and it'll have the same effect on you. You clench around the vibrator lingering inside of you, desperate to have some sort of friction. San doesn't budge though, firm in his words about not touching you, the only thing he's giving you is body warmth by sticking to your back and the firm bulge pressed against your ass.

You pull off Hongjoong to take a deep breath of air, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, and look up at your lover with wide eyes. "Fu-fuck my mouth? P-Please sir?" Hongjoong moans at your words and the way you open your mouth in expectation after asking. He grips your hair gently, careful not to tug too hard, and brushes his tip against your lips, smearing precum and saliva over them.

"I'll try to go slow, baby girl. San, let her hold onto one of my legs. I need to know if it's too much for her at any point. Tap my leg three times if you need me to stop, princess. Understood?" You nod quickly, eager to let him have his way with you, but Hongjoong doesn't indulge you yet. "Use your words, love. Understood?"

"Yes sir, yes. I understand sir. Please."

"Such an eager slut for you, Joong. She obeys you so easily. Why do you always have to be a brat with me, kitten?" San lets Hongjoong take hold of your restraints and pull you forward, and you grip his thigh as best you can in your current state but all you can think of once your fingers are wrapped around him is how small and tiny your hands look in comparison to his thigh. You don't get the chance to dwell on that thought much longer because Hongjoong is pushing into your mouth again, this time with the intent to fuck it. Sure enough, Hongjoong starts slow, keeping it to slow and shallow thrusts until you get used to his rhythm, then he begins to snap his hips forward so that his dick presses against the back of your throat with each thrust. San helps brace you against the thrusts by holding your hips against his. There's a slight pain that comes with it -- a light choking sensation like you're running out of air -- but it's nothing unpleasant, in fact quite the opposite. It feels like every sensation is increasing tenfold, and it's that exact moment that San decides to turn the vibrator back on. You cry out, the sound muffled by Hongjoong's thrusts, and tremble against San's chest.

"Sh, kitten, shh. I've got you. I've got you, yea?" San mumbles the words against your neck, massaging the skin lovingly with his tongue. One of the hands on your hips slides further down and finds your clit. San rubs small circles against it with his index and middle finger, his whispered words bringing more waves of pleasure. "So so good, kitten. Such a good little slut for your sirs. Letting us use you as we see fit."

"F-Fuck, I'm close, princess," Hongjoong announces as his thrusts start to falter. He loses his rhythm, blinding chasing his release with staggered thrusts until his orgasm hits. He curses again as he rides it out, cumming into your mouth, and you take every drop until he pulls out with a groan. "Fuck, you're so perfect, baby. You took me so well." San presses the pads of his fingers harder against you as Hongjoong praises you, your lips fall open in a silent cry. It must be a disgusting sight, because you can feel Hongjoong's cum dribbling out the corners of your mouth as San brings you closer and closer to your orgasm. Hongjoong bends at the waist to be eye level with you again, watching your expression carefully, then brings his fingers back to your lips. He catches the dripping cum and pushes in back into your mouth, slowly fucking it in and out with his fingers.

The hot wave of your orgasm is about to breach when the vibrator shuts off and San's fingers disappear. You whine, leaning back against San's chest and shoulder.

"I wanna cum, please," you beg around Hongjoong's fingers. "Please let me cum, sir. Please. I've been good, please." San hums in response.

"Hm, batteries must've died. I didn't touch the remote." You can't see his face, but you can certainly hear the lilt in his tone that tells you otherwise.

"Swallow," Hongjoong orders, bringing your attention back to him. He keeps his fingers in place until you swallow three times, his cum burning a bit as it goes down, then you clean his fingers quickly with your tongue. "Good girl." He rubs your cheek, a fond smile on his lips as he looks down at you.

"Hands and knees," San cuts in. He tugs the vibrator out of you and tosses it to the side without a care before moving off of you. Hongjoong sighs as he watches it skid across the floor.

"San, come on. You better not forget it this time. Seonghwa still hasn't forgiven us for the time we fucked her on the kitchen table."

"I stand by what I said, and at least I ate my food at the table." San reaches out to grab a handful of your ass and at the sight of his wink, you recall what happened last time.

San had been adamant about trying to fuck you on the table, but Hongjoong wouldn't let him, at least until San ate you out like a starved man while sitting in Seonghwa's usual seat. Hongjoong couldn't resist after that, but an small cum stain on the chair and the vibrator on the floor under the table betrayed what you all had done while the others weren't home.

"I said hands and knees, kitten." San brings you back to reality with a sharp slap to the inside of your thigh which has you remembering that he never let you cum earlier. You do as asked though, bending over without hesitation to give San full access to your drenched pussy.

"At least get her a pillow, San," Hongjoong scolds, quickly grabbing a few pillows off the couch for you. "Put one under your knees, princess. And one for your arms too."

"Oh, you think I'm gonna fuck her doggy style?" San asks, a small laugh reverberating through his chest. "No no no. She'd like that too much. I'm gonna make her do the work. You're gonna ride me, kitten." San's fingers trail over your backside, twisting around the hem of your shorts and yanking downwards. You whimper as the cold air hits your exposed arousal. San stands up, moving away from you all the sudden, and heads straight for one of the chairs at the kitchen table. Oh. To Seonghwa's chair. He drops his pants in a flash before sitting down, a cocky expression on his face as he looks over at you with legs spread wide. "And you're going to crawl over to sir like a good little kitten. Because you misbehaved, and--"

"Brats don't get what they want," you finish, cheeks already heating up from the prospect of his words.

"No no. Don't interrupt, kitten. If you want to cum tonight, then you had better behave from now on." You open your mouth to retort, but the thought of having your orgasm torn away from you again gets the better of you and you can't resist. You struggle a bit with your restraints, the belt still tight around your wrists, but you manage to crawl forward. Shame and embarrassment burn your cheeks. You know that's exactly what San wants, he wants to see you embarrassed beyond belief but still so desperate that you can't say no to him no matter what. You reach his legs with little to no issues, cheeks still on fire, and Hongjoong leans down to press a kiss to your forehead and praises to your skin.

"Good job, princess. You did so well."

"Are you sorry for teasing me, kitten?" San leans forward, eyes taunting you with their ever-present playful gleam. You don't answer. Instead you duck your head to hide the raging blush on your cheeks, Hongjoong's hand combing through your hair gently. "I asked you a question. Are you going to answer it or not?"

"Yes sir."

"Good girl. Now, are you sorry for teasing sir?" You blink furiously as the shame peaks, but you have to grit your teeth and get through it or else San will never let you cum.

"...Yes sir."

"Look at me when you say it." Your gaze flits up without hesitation.

"Yes sir. I'm sorry." San grins down at you.

"There we go. Such a good little slut for us. If you want to cum, you'll have to work for it though." He pats his thighs, leaning back against the chair. You brace yourself against Hongjoong's legs then pull yourself upwards, legs a bit shaky from kneeling for so long. San watches on, slightly amused by your efforts and struggles, but Hongjoong continues to have mercy on you. You let go of him to drop onto San's lap, scooting forward until you can slip your bound hands over his head. San welcomes you with a kiss, one full of saliva and tongue.

"I'm not gonna be able to get you in me without a bit of help," you say through the kiss, and San groans in response.

"So needy," he murmurs against your lips but there's no actual annoyance there. "Spit on my hand." He cups your chin and prompts you to do as asked, one finger swiping over your bottom lip afterwards. It's a crude sound that emanates from his hand a moment later, but you aren't complaining when he finally presses the tip of his cock against you. "You can do the rest, kitten." San sits back again, hands pressing against your hips. You sink down onto him the rest of the way. A small whine leaves your lips when he bottoms out in you, the stretch far bigger than the vibrator from earlier.

"Sir," you say, a little breathless. You start a slow rhythm, small bounces as you brace your feet on the edge of the chair. San groans as you slide up and down, cock straining against your tight walls. "Sir."

"Yes, kitten?" San is holding back, you can see it in his expression. He's resisting the urge to fuck up into you, determined to give you this punishment, and you just want him to give it up. So you lean forward and catch his lobe between your teeth, offering little kitten licks and nibbles.

"I want you to use me, sir," you whisper into the shell of his ear. San's grip on your hips tightens. "Fuck me like the dirty little slut I am." You are going to have bruises on your hips tomorrow even if San doesn't decide to fuck you senseless right now. "I'm all yours. Your slut. I need you." That's enough to break him, thank goodness, and a moment later, San has you in the air. It's only a moment though, because next thing you know you're dropped on the kitchen table, San's head still trapped between your arms. He's thrusting hard, hands coming down to rest on either side of your waist, and you don't have time to even breathe with how hard he's fucking you. You release a loud moan, waves of shock gone as he slides in and out of you with ease.

"Fuck, keep moaning just like that, kitten. Such pretty sounds for me, yea? Who can fuck you this well?" San groans against you, reaching behind his head to slip your arms off of him. You don't have the strength to keep yourself up any longer and collapse on your back against the table. The moans continue to fall from your lips without cease. You can't even find the words to answer San's questions, instead just looking up to the ceiling as he fucks you with reckless abandon.

You barely comprehend it when Hongjoong comes up behind you and takes hold of your wrists. He carefully unravels the belt -- well as best he can with San fucking you so hard that the damn table may break from his thrusts. Once your hands are finally free again, you desperately reach out to catch hold of Hongjoong, grabbing at the air behind you until his hands find yours, and you interlock fingers awkwardly. You couldn't care less about that right now though, all you care about is the incredible angle at which San is fucking you, curving straight against your g-spot over and over again.

"J-Joong, fuck fuck fuck, Joong, I'm close," you blabber to the man behind you, and he humors you with a small peck to the forehead right where beads of sweat are starting to bloom. San thrusts particularly hard as he hears your words. You glance down at the man bent over you only to find his eyes glued to yours, glaring up at you as he continues to thrust away.

"Remember who's fucking you, kitten. I'm the one fucking you this hard, yea?" You moan in response, writhing against the table as the waves of orgasm approach. Hongjoong leans down once more and presses a lopsided kiss to the corner of your lips.

"Cum, princess. Cum for us." The permission is all you need to come undone on the table, hands leaving Hongjoong's to grab at anything else that can keep you grounded, and you cry out as the orgasm hits you. San continues to thrust through it, but he's getting closer and closer as well, hips stuttering as he nears his end as well.

"Let me cum in you, kitten. Fuck. I wanna fill you up. Fill you to the brim and see Joong fuck it back into you again."

You can't help but to moan again when San says those words, walls clenching hard around him, and that's what send him over the edge. He releases into you, a guttural moan joining your higher pitched one in the air between you.

"F-Fuck," he exhales as he pulls out. He wastes no time in kneeling before you, one finger slipping into your heat. "God, your pussy looks so pretty with my cum in it." You're too spent to say anything in response, and a small whimper comes out instead. "Well Joong? Think we have enough time for another round?" You look up at the man in question, expecting him to give you time to rest and recover after San's hardcore fucking, but the man smiles down at you. Instead of his usual angelic grin, it's something much different, much darker, and you know you aren't getting any rest anytime soon.

"Well, there's still plenty of rooms and surfaces left to christen. Let's see how many rounds you can take, kitten."

...

a/n: yeEHAW what’d y’all think?? i would love love love some feedback bc this is the first full blown smut i’ve ever written

[azozzoni]

VDS saga, part 7... Rated R. With special, beautiful art by @dreamy-slytherin

*

My mom’s going with my brother to his football match this weekend. Gone all weekend.

Staring at Jens’ message, Lucas sighed, leaning his head against the window of the train, ignoring the rushing landscape outside the train window. The train car was fairly empty, most people engrossed with their phones or staring out the window.

Gone all weekend. The words echoed in his head and he swallowed down the nerves clawing their way into his throat. He knew exactly what that meant, or at least, he thought he did. He hadn’t said anything when he’d agreed to Jens’ suggestion he come up to Antwerp to check out his favorite places this time.

It was easier to focus on what was coming than what he was leaving behind.

He didn’t want to think about Jayden and Kes and their fight, the anxiety welling in his chest. He forced himself to take a breath. There had been no messages from Jayden asking what the hell was going on with him lately, no messages from Kes asking if he was okay, if he wanted to talk, reassuring Lucas that he was there. Nothing. He didn’t want to think that it was just as much his fault that they weren’t talking to him, that he wasn’t talking to them.

Honestly, he didn’t know how to fix it. He’d never fought like this with Kes before, never felt so bad every time they crossed paths at school and Kes seemed like he wanted to say something but didn’t.

Turning his phone over, Lucas couldn’t help sighing. He didn’t want to relive last week, not when the prospect of seeing Jens was right in front of him. It wasn’t a long train ride, just long enough to let the anxiety build up in his stomach.

They still hadn’t talked about that night all those weeks ago, when Jens had texted him from a party, drunk and horny, sent him pictures Lucas may or may not have saved to revisit late at night.

Lucas hadn’t said that he’d never done with anyone before when he’d replied to Jens. He didn’t say that he was scared, excited, nervous. He’d thought about it, sure, opening him up to someone else like that, if he was kind of guy who had casual sex. He didn’t think he was. Which was why he was here, on a train, running away from his problems at home to see a guy who wanted to do this.

The announcement of the next stop jolted Lucas out of his thoughts, rising to pull his backpack from the shelf overhead and heading for the train door. There was no time left to think about this. It was happening.

The platform was cold, a cutting wind blowing through the station as Lucas hopped onto the concrete and glanced around for the exit.

Following the crowd, he headed upstairs, looking around for Jens as he reached the main level, swallowing down the butterflies clambering to escape his throat.

“Hey.”

Jens appeared in front of him, between the crowd, an easy smile on his face, and Lucas felt himself relax.

“Hi.”

“Come on,” Jens said, nodding his head toward the exit, and Lucas didn’t say anything as Jens’ warm hand wrapped around his and tugged him along.

Lucas didn’t keep track of the way they came, past tall buildings very similar to the ones in Utrecht, past canals and trees waving in the chill breeze, brown leaves clinging desperately in the wind.

He could only concentrate on his hand in Jens’, the way Jens glanced over at him as they turned corners, down narrow cobblestone streets until they reached a door that Jens unlocked easily and let him go in first.

There was no mistaking it, what they were going to do.

“You want a drink?” Jens asked once they reached his apartment on the third floor, a small but warm space, blankets tossed over every couch and chair. Bright light streamed in through the windows on the opposite wall, the sky grey in the distance.

“Sure,” he said because he didn’t know what else to do. He was pretty sure Jens was much more experienced between the two of them. He took the bottle Jens handed him, glancing around the living room. “So your brother does football?” he asked, catching sight of the photos on the bookshelf. There was a woman with Jens’ same dark hair, Jens a few years younger, and a kid that was there was no mistaking he was related to Jens. Same hair, same nose, even the same tilt to their smiles.

“Yeah, but the team sucks,” Jens replied, eyes on Lucas instead of the photo. “Still, it gets him out of the house.”

The empty house, Lucas thought, looking back at Jens. He was sure there was something going on back home, some party the guys hadn’t told him about because they were in some stupid fight. He was sure if he hadn’t called Jayden an asshole, he’d be sitting with him and Kes right now, getting high, talking about stupid shit like who could hold their breath the longest or listening to some story Jayden had about going down on a girl.

He bet Jens had done that, had gone down on girls, but he didn’t want to think about that with Jens so close. Instead, he took a drink of his beer and forced himself to exhale a long breath.

“So do you want to watch a movie? Or we could get food,” Jens said after a minute as they stood there.

Glancing over, Lucas knew Jens was giving him an out, or at least, easing him into it. He didn’t need to be eased into it despite the way his heart was hammering in his chest. “I thought maybe I’d go into a dark room and take a picture of my dick,” he said, only half-joking when Jens’ eyebrows quirked, almost surprised Lucas would say something like that.

“You know I was really drunk when I sent that,” Jens admitted, smiling at Lucas. He reached for Lucas, though, fingers sliding to his neck. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t want it.”

This smile was easier as Lucas gazed at Jens, the part of his lips, the smirk at the edge, calming somehow.

“I haven’t ever,” Lucas managed to say, letting out a breath as he tilted his chin up, closer to Jens’ lips. He didn’t check the look in Jens’ eyes.

“Neither have I,” Jens said, and Lucas looked up finally. “With a guy,” he added at Lucas’ frown.

“Are you nervous?” he asked with Jens’ lips so close to his, feeling Jens’ pause, biting the inside of his cheek.

Jens kissed Lucas before he answered, a swelling feeling rising in Lucas’ chest at the heat in Jens’ kiss. His hands came up to Jens’ ribcage before he could stop himself, the soft, thick fabric of his hoodie under his fingers.

“I might be shit at this,” Jens admitted when the kiss broke and Lucas forced his eyes open, watching Jens’ tongue slide over his lips.

“I doubt that,” he said, feeling bolder, more confident now as he leaned in to kiss Jens again.

He’d thought about this, about what it might be like to get Jens alone, truly alone. Not out in public at a club or even as alone as they could be in a park or a tree grove. He thought he’d be scared, worried he was going to fuck it up somehow, that he would be a fumbling mess when it came to his first time. There was still time, he told himself, letting out a breath as Jens’ hands fell to his hips, gliding under his jacket.

“Come on,” Jens said, tugging Lucas out of the living room, down a hall and through a door at the end.

Jens’ room was much like Lucas had pictured, although there were definitely more posters of half-naked girls than he’d expected. The door closing behind them made Lucas turn around, watching Jens peel off his hoodie and drop it on the floor, leaving him in a thin tee shirt.

“There’s a lot of girls up here,” Lucas said as Jens stepped forward. Jens gazed around the room for a second before reaching for Lucas, a firm hand around his waist, pulling him forward.

“I should get a really hot naked guy, shouldn’t I?” he asked, and Lucas took a breath as Jens’ hands skated under his jacket, pushing it over his shoulders. He let it fall to the floor behind him, focusing on the tilt of Jens’ chin, the way Jens’ eyes dragged over his face. “To remind me of you.”

Lucas’ cheeks went hot as Jens laughed, walking him backwards until they hit the bed. Lucas fell first, heart pounding as Jens climbed on after. They still had all their clothes on, hadn’t gotten any further than kissing, but he gasped at Jens’ hand sliding up his thigh, parting his legs so he could settle in between them.

When Jens kissed him this time, it was different, a fire burning in Lucas’ chest as he grabbed onto Jens’ shoulders, slipping to his neck as their bodies aligned. They were really going to do this. He really wanted to do this.

There was no more talking for a minute, not with Jens’ warm fingers grazing under his shirt, up his stomach, forcing it off, mussing his hair. Lucas shivered, but not because of the cold as Jens sat up, perched over his hips, and pulled off his own shirt, tossing it aside carelessly as he came back to Lucas, kissing him deeply.

Lucas had never gotten this far with anyone—he’d always managed to distract the girls before they tried this, tried to suck marks into his neck. They’d never left him breathless like Jens did, closing his eyes and focusing on the slide of Jens’ tongue down his neck, the teeth scraping at his throat, Jens’ hands on his bare chest, gripping his ribcage as Lucas’ body reacted on its own, pushing up into Jens.

He didn’t want to go slow, he decided with Jens’ mouth sliding down his chest, heat throbbing everywhere Jens touched, more and more turned on with Jens’ hands reaching for his jeans, the sound of the zipper filling the room.

It was the first time anyone else had ever touched him like this, gotten their hand underneath his boxers and stroked in a way that made Lucas bite his lip and whisper, “Fuck.”

It was Jens’ mouth, hot and wet, slick tongue sliding over his hip bone, leaving a bruise just above his waistband as his free hand yanked down Lucas’ jeans.

Opening his eyes, Lucas couldn’t help looking, down at Jens’ soft, dark hair hovering over him, the way Jens glanced up, met his gaze before leaning into his cock and licking up the underside.

“Shit,” Lucas cursed, heat rolling around his stomach, so hard as Jens took his time tracing the ridges in his cock, leaving him desperate for more.

He’d never imagined it would be quite this good, that he would feel so hot, panting for breath as Jens took him deep in his mouth.

His skin burned, breath shaky as he tried to remember to breathe, to not get lost in the feeling of Jens sucking him off, too good for it to be his first time. God, Jens was just good at everything, wasn’t he?

As if in response to his thoughts, Jens pulled away, wiping at his mouth and panting for breath, smiling up at Lucas.

“Harder than I thought,” he said, and Lucas could swear there was a pink tinge to his cheeks that might not just have been because he was out of breath, but Jens didn’t stop, curling his hand around Lucas and stroking hard and fast as Lucas groaned above him. Instead, he mouthed along the outside, soft lips and a careful tongue that seemed to know exactly what to do to bring Lucas to the edge.

Fingers digging into the messy comforter, Lucas shut his eyes, exhaling shakily. He wasn’t going to last long, not like this.

He was too hot, stomach clenching tightly in the moments before he came, the moment he took to push at Jens’ shoulder, break him away from sucking on the tip, pleasure shooting through him as he gasped, biting hard on his bottom lip.

“Fuck,” Jens muttered as he pulled back, hand sticky and wet as he wiped it off on the comforter before he grimaced.

Breathing heavy, Lucas couldn’t even find the words to respond, feeling oddly vulnerable, completely naked beneath Jens, who still had pants on at least. That simply wasn’t fair.

“How’d I do?” Jens asked as he pulled himself back up to Lucas’ level, brushing back Lucas’ curls, gentle in a way that made Lucas smile, butterflies fluttering in his chest again.

“Good,” Lucas assured him, eyes dropping to Jens’ mouth a second before he kissed him, rolling Jens onto his back, climbing on top of him.

Jens’ gaze scraped down his chest, mouth hanging open slightly, intense and wanting as Lucas shoved aside any doubts that he wasn’t going to be good at this, that it was just going to be an awkward mess.

Jens’ jeans were tighter than Lucas expected, tugging them over his hips, checking that Jens was still watching. He was, dark eyes flicking to Lucas’ as he opened his mouth, licked his lips and let out a slow breath.

Jens’ dick was heavy in Lucas’ slender fingers, long and hard, warm to the touch. It was just like jerking himself off, Lucas told himself, spitting into his palm and sliding it up the length. He tried not to go too slowly, tightening his grip when Jens sucked in a sharp breath.

Jens wasn’t loud, breathing heavy instead, biting his lip and exhaling slowly, as though concentrating on the feeling of Lucas jerking him off.

It was hotter than Lucas would have thought, watching the way Jens’ chest moved with each breath, the flush along his collar bone, and he couldn’t ignore Jens’ dick in his hand, the tip shiny and wet, the throb of blood he felt against his palm.

“Faster,” Jens said, eyes falling to Lucas, half-lidded as Lucas sped up, shifting on top of him, unable to stop himself from reaching for Jens’ stomach, fingers gliding over his abs, tracing each muscle as Jens groaned.

Jens didn’t warn him except to curse under his breath before he came, hot and wet and sticky as Lucas slid his hand down the hard length. He didn’t stop, not until Jens’ cock flagged and Jens reached for him, pulling Lucas up by his arm, the kiss sloppy, too much tongue, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as Jens rolled on top of Lucas, a warm weight sinking into him as his head went dizzy from Jens’ lips.

“Have you ever tried it with toothpaste?” Jens asked after a minute and Lucas stared at him, eyebrows furrowed.

“What?”

“Never mind.” Jens shook his head, letting go of Lucas to relax onto the mattress, shoving his hair back as he let out a breath.

Lying there, they didn’t speak for a moment. Lucas didn’t even know what to say as his breathing returned to normal, feeling like his whole body was warm and soft, melting into the comforter. So that was what it felt like not to be scared, to let himself go. Lucas didn’t think he could ever go back.

“There’s a really good fry place around the corner,” Jens said finally, and Lucas glanced over. The flush on his chest had receded, faded to its normal color, Jens’ skin tanned and warm even though summer was long gone. “We could get some and I could educate you on why Rambo is the best movie ever.”

Lucas laughed despite himself. “That’s going to take a lot of convincing.”

“Good thing we’ve got the whole weekend,” Jens said, but he didn’t move, smiling at Lucas beside him.

“Yeah,” Lucas agreed after a minute, meeting Jens’ gaze. In here, he didn’t have to think about the boys, about the fight, about what he knew he had to do. In here, they had the whole weekend.

[bigdanteague3]

I was just going to sit back and wait for you to tell a story before I did anything else.  A little tit for tat lol.  But I have time so I thought I’d continue the Amber story.  The short, curvy virgin cheerleader who dry humped me in the bathroom and titty fucked me through her tee shirt.  We had just gotten to the part where she broke her leg and our after school groping sessions had ended because she didn’t stay for cheer practice anymore.

She came back to school a few days later on crutches.  Hobbling down the halls.  In Spanish class, I told her I would miss seeing her after school.  She told me we should study together after school.  That her mom didn’t get home until 5:30.  And she was home alone every afternoon for 2.5 hours.  I smiled and asked if we could study that afternoon.  She said she really needed to study for the upcoming test....but to wait until 3:30 to give her time to clean up the house.  I told her I wouldn’t be late.  She had another girl who picked her up and took her home from school since she couldn’t drive.  I saw them leave from parking lot together and waited 10 minutes before leaving.  I stopped and bought gum and killed a little time.  I passed the house at 3:25 and there was no signs of life.  I came back at 3:29 and parked.  Knocked on door.....no answer.  I knew it was the right house.  I knocked again.  I turned the door and it was unlocked.  Walked in and it was so quiet I could hear the fridge running.  Hello?   Hello?  Definitely her house because I see her picture above the television.

Walk down the hallway and look in bedroom one.  Nothing, not even a bed.  Two more bedrooms at end of hall.  Check the one on right...and yes.  This is it. 

Amber is sitting on the bed, feet on the floor, waiting for me.  She was just wearing a black bra and black panties.  And the big blue cast.  I just stood there for a minute.  She smiled.  I smiled.  Her boobs were about to bust out of that bra.  I don’t remember saying anything...almost positive I didn’t.  I walked the 5 steps to her bed and kneeled in front of her.  We just kissed for a while. My hands up and down her back.  Kissing her neck.  Kissing her chest....I start unhooking the bra and I pull back to watch it come off and to see those titties spill out.  I squeezed them together and licked and sucked.  She’s enjoying it.  I lift her ass up off the bed enough to slip her panties down a little.  Left them on the floor.  Everything before now had been in complete darkness so this was the first time we could see anything.  She had trimmed her hair down real short and I ran my fingers over it.  Gently probing her pussy...didn’t just want to jam a finger in there.  Slid it in real slow...she was dripping wet.  I start kissing her again as I finger her slowly.  She’s moaning.....I ask her if it feels good.  She nods yes and starts trying to take my shirt off.  So I pull my finger out of that tight little pussy and let her.  My shirt comes off.  I stand up so my waist is in her face.  I want her to take the pants off herself.  She works the button, pulls the zipper and yanks them down.  Now my boxers are the only thing left.  I’m waiting for her to set me free.  She puts both hands and pulls them down slowly....my dick was so hard...the boxers forced it down as she pulled.  Her eyes watching as more and more was exposed.  When they finally cleared the head, my dick popped back up and bounced.  She giggled and stroked me. 

There was a stereo next to the bed....she leaned over and pushed play and Red Light Special by TLC started playing.  She’s touching me and I slip a finger back inside her.  Her hands were soft.  I ask her if she’s ready....and she wordlessly slides back on the bed.....gets in the center and spreads wide.  I follow her and take one last look at her spread eagle...inviting me to fuck her.  With that big cast I knew we wouldn’t have a variety of positions...so I got on my knees and put the head of my cock right on her pussy lips.  I didn’t go in yet.  I just rubbed around the outside.  Savoring that last second.  Leaning forward so I’m more over her.....I slip just the head inside and kiss her.  I wanted my mouth on hers as I filled her little pussy up.  Inch by inch by inch....I feel her pussy wrapped tight around me...when I’m as far as I can go...I ask her if she’s ok.  She just tells me to go slow.

So I fuck her slow.  When I pull back I make sure to just leave the head inside, then I lower back inside her.  Again and again...I don’t know what song was playing by now but I could hear her start to pant a little over the music....so I knew everything was good so far.  I felt like with her eagerness I might be able to slip a little dirty talk in there....as I’m still fucking her slowly and gently.  But very deeply.......I push all the way inside her...buried inside her balls deep...I hold it here and kiss her.  I asked her if she liked it?  Yes.  It feels good inside you?  Yes.  Do you like my dick inside you?  Yes. 

As I pull back she grabs my hips and starts showing me how fast to go.  Just a steady rocking.  I’m not pounding away.......I tell her how good she feels.  I tell her how good she looks.  She’s moaning now....just a steady noise.  It seemed pretty authentic...not a performance.  She’s grabbing my ass and pulling me in and pushing me out.  She tells me not to cum inside her....I promise her I won’t.  She said, “I want to see you cum”........This pushes me closer to the edge, I’m driving deep on every stroke...giving her everything I have.  I’m watching her big titties jiggle every time I go in.  Her moaning has gotten louder and there’s an occasional fuck me thrown in.

I tell her I’m getting ready to cum soon...can’t last much longer.  I didn’t ask her...I just told her that I wanted to cum on her titties.  I pull out and get above her...so my knees are on each side of her waist.  I squat a little so that my balls and ass are basically on her stomach.....I’m stroking it for her while she watches with a lot of interest.  I tell her to hold her tits together....she’s a good girl and does as she’s told.......as I feel myself start to pop I lean into them and just fucking unload.  A couple of big streams come out and land right on her boobs.....several smaller streams and drops fly everywhere.  Her chest, her neck, her cheek, her bed.  It was a mess.  But she loved it.  She was still holding her boobs together and looking down at the cum.  I was still stroking a little and wondered how she would react if I smeared the cum around on her with my dick.  I put the head right on her nipples and smeared it around a little.  She loved it.  She had like 2 big drops on her chin but I kissed her anyway and laid down beside her.  It was only a little after 4 so no need to rush home.

I laid beside her and caught my breath...we kissed and she rubbed my dick and balls.  Apparently she wanted more?  I wasn’t in a hurry to leave...so I laid there and enjoyed the attention.  She’s fondling me and rubbing my balls with one hand and my dick with the other.  She tries to roll over and get in position to suck on me but it was hard with the cast and the pain.  Any weight was uncomfortable.  So I told her I could help if she wanted to me to.  She told me she wanted to suck it but couldn’t get there.

I got her on her back again and straddled her again.  This time right below her neck.  I was already getting hard again, but not all the way yet.  I just laid it on her lips and let her do what she wanted.  She opened her mouth and it just fell in.  I fed it to her nice and slow.  She was propped up a little on the pillows...her mouth wide open.  Tasting her own pussy and my cum....it didn’t take long for me to get fully hard again.  My dick is in her mouth and she’s trying her best...I tell her to get it really clean for me....so she’s licking and sucking and she’s rubbing my balls with her hands...

You want me to fuck you again?  I asked her while she had about 4 inches of throbbing dick on her tongue.  She nods yes.  Mumbles the word yes as best she can.....so I pull out of her mouth and go down.  Before fucking her I wanted to taste her...so I lean down and slide my tongue inside....still wet....I swirl a few times and spread her legs out wide i tell her how good she looked.....saw her cute little ass....I lick her pussy for a minute before starting round 2.

Round 2 was a lot like first round.  I fucked her deep....I gave her a little more dirty talk.....she was returning it....telling me how good her pussy felt....I liked it when she’d tell me how much she liked my dick, it was flattering....we fucked a little harder.  More firmly I guess.....I thought it was super fucking hot that her titties, neck and chin were still covered in cum.....she was groaning, moaning, grabbing my ass and holding me deep inside her.....’I like it right here’ she said.  I’m rocking inside her slowly....she’s rubbing my ass...her tiny hands squeezing me....round 2 lasted a little longer.  But not much.  With her talking dirty and the titties jiggling and her pussy being so wet and me being able to still taste it on my lips.....it was hard to hold back.  She was really starting to relax and open up.....all smiles and kisses...I’d kiss her every few minutes...my tongue inside her mouth as she grabs my ass and tells me to ‘give me your dick’......she moans and tells me she wants me to cum in her mouth.....I tell her I’m close

When I pull out I almost cum too soon....so I hurry and get close to her mouth.  She opens her mouth up wide and I put the head right on her.  I kinda hoped she meant to suck me off but there was barely any time.  I stroked it once and busted on her lips and tongue.  There was still a lot considering this was the second load I had given her.  She was eager for it too.  She swallowed every drop and licked my dick clean again. 

I didn’t care that she had just swallowed a mouthful of my cum...that she had it all over her face....I wanted to kiss her.  I held her arms down on the bed above her head and kissed her.  I didn’t really taste anything....when we stopped kissing I looked at her and remembered how she looked when I came in.  Hair all perfect...bra and panties and looking nice.  She was a virgin then.  Now I looked down at her completely naked and sprawled out on the bed...covered in 2 huge loads of cum drying on her body.  She had been fucked and she liked it. 

We fucked non-stop for about a year.  She never wanted to be official.  She was happy just getting my dick in her regularly.  Should I have officially dated her?  Like to movies?  In hindsight, maybe?  I didn’t want to disrespect her but I’m not positive she wanted more. And this beginning part was at the end of a miserable relationship and I wasn’t eager to just jump into another serious thing. We would hang out all the time, fuck hard and that was good enough for her.  I guess.  People knew, it wasn’t a secret.  As far as I know she didn’t fuck anybody else during that year.  I did.  After this first encounter, she was 100% enthusiastic...lapdances, loved cum, sex in lots of different places, she got good at blowjobs....I’ll give you brief updates in the future on some of the things we did. 

She was a good girl who was always eager to please. Like a good girl should. None of the things were as hot as what you did to me.  You are always to gold standard.  Just thought you may want to hear some other stories.   Try to give me a story pretty soon....one about me, maybe?  Tit for tat?

[kazosa]

A Mutually Beneficial Arrangement - Part 9

Summary: All you wanted was to use your skills in automotive engineering and design to open your own custom car shop. When the rug gets yanked out from under you, one of your regular customers offers you a job that you just can’t resist. Will it stay a mutually beneficial arrangement, or will something unexpected bloom?

Pairing: AU Dean Winchester x Reader

Appearances by: Bobby, Donna, OC* Jack, OC Mom, Ryan, Donna 

Chapter Synopsis: The aftermath of John's actions lands back on Dean's shoulders. The stress of the situation and Dean's sneaking around are taking their toll and they finally take a little break to go visit friends in Bemidji

Word count: 5173

Warnings: Bad language. Fluff. Anxiety triggers.

Masterlist

Tags: @31shadesofbrown  @xhannahbananax03  @closetspngirl  @adoptdontshoppets  @parinarain  @babykalika2001  @docharleythegeekqueen  @22sarah08  @flamencodiva @deans-baby-momma  @collette04  @maralisa124  @mml232  @sympathyforluci  @superthingsilike  @collinsstanharbour  @jxnnxbrxwn  @winchest09 @sandlee44  @screechingartisancashbailiff  @theconfusedcat  @perpetualabsurdity  @spnhollis  @squirrelnotsam @cosicas-cuquis @coffee-obsessed-writer  @sorenmarie87  @his-paradox  @geeksareunique @cloverhighfive​ @dancingalone21​

     By the time you caught up to Dean, he was at the airport, fuming. You could see the scowl on his face from 50 yards out. As you got closer to him, you were catching only a few words. You didn’t need to know what he was saying to know he was very angry. You leaned against the Impala door to wait for him.

     “...where you are or what you think you’re going, get the hell back here!”

     The anger he felt was so intense. What the hell gave his father the right to steal and from his own company?! Then he just flew off without repercussions?! He should have known this was how it would end. Dean knew it would, he just wished he had been wrong. A nearby 5 gallon bucket took the brunt of his anger as he kicked it as hard as he could, sending it sailing. He paced on the pavement a few moments longer before walking toward you and the Impala.

     “How long?” was all you asked as you both got in the car. There were still a few police at the hangar as you were getting ready to leave.

     “Before sunrise,” he sighed, knowing what you meant. The Impala came to life with the turn of his wrist, “How the hell did he catch wind? We were so careful. We made sure. No one talked.

     “Someone had to have said something,” you hoped you hadn’t let something slip, but it was hard to tell. In the last few months, John had gotten more and more obstinate. Only small portions of the stolen cash had been returned, less than half. When the DA decided to prosecute, John’s assets had been seized, though, it had only happened the night before. “What did we miss?”

     Somewhere in Kansas City, a small man bustled about his office collecting items to throw into a bag resting on the top of his desk. He stood in front of his bookcase, catching a glimpse of his reflection in the picture frames on the shelves. Pasty skin from too many nighttime stakeouts. Receding hairline, but still, mostly brown. Nose a little too big for his face and his thin lips only accentuated his nose and weak chin. He knew the ladies didn’t look at him. Maybe now things would change. He grabbed the only thing of real value in his office from the shelf and tossed it into the bag. The item made a soft ‘thud’ with a crinkle of paper.

     The man sighed as he took one last look around his office. His fingers grasped the zipper of the bag. His gaze falling on  the contents of the bag and he smiled. Rows and rows of Andrew Jackson’s looked up at him as he pulled the zipper closed. “Thank you, John,” he said into the quiet, “it was a pleasure doing business with you.” He left his office for the last time, got into his old Camry and left, to anywhere but Kansas City. Maybe he would go somewhere with a beach… He pointed his car to the southeast, hoping to never set foot in Kansas again.

     Dean argued with you about eating dinner in the kitchen. He said it was for the convenience of clean up and access to the enormous refrigerator. Since he no longer had the usual options of his favorite takeout establishments, he’d finally begun cooking on his own and had become quite the chef. That night’s meal was a truly spectacular bacon cheeseburger and he’d baked some frozen french fries. However, you’d argued for the War Room table to chow down. Your only points were that it was cool and it lit up. Finding no fault in your argument, you sat at the War Room table, enjoying your delicious meal and talking.

     “Bobby getting on your nerves, yet?” he asked between bites. “He can be aggressive.”

     “Oh...I don’t think so,” you answered. “I find him very charming.” Bobby did have a rigid sense of procedure, you just needed to learn his way before you could improve them or try anything different.

     “Huh. He used to be on my ass from sun up to sun down,” Dean frowned at his fries.

     “Such a nice ass, though.”

     “Damn right,” he winked at you.

     “What do you think he’s doing?” you asked.

     John and his whereabouts had been weighing on both of your minds, whether you talked about it or not.

     Dean was able to follow your jumps in topics, “Probably on an island, drinking some fruity drink with a stupid umbrella in it.” He continued eating.

     “So, is that it? Are we just going to let him get away with it?” you wanted to know.

     “Yup.”

     “Seriously?”

     “Yeah,” he scowled, “he is still my dad, alright? Excuse me if I’m not comfortable hunting down my dad and dragging him through the dirt.”

     You hadn’t meant to push too hard. Dean hadn’t wanted to get vicious with his dad from the beginning, but with him running, it had changed things. It also didn’t make sense that he would be okay with his dad potentially being arrested and serving time, only to let him get away with it now.

     “What aren’t you saying?” you wanted to know. Dean never gave up so quickly unless he had something else in mind.

     “Remember how Sammy was shopping around the business?”

     You nodded.

     “We called up the most interested one to see how they felt about it now,” he explained.

     “And?!”

     “They still want to buy,” he took a swig of his beer. Dean’s expression hadn’t changed. 

     “Why aren’t you happy? Do you not want to sell? What about your dream?” you asked.

     “My dream is to be part of something I can be proud of. Doing this to my dad doesn’t make me proud,” he answered. “When I left the last time, I gave it up and now that I’m back running it, it doesn’t feel right. There’s a lot of people without jobs now. Families without a provider. Say all you want, but my dad took care of his people. No. If I get to have a brewery, it’s going to be on my terms and no dark clouds hanging over us. I want the dream, just not like this. There has to be another way.”

     You were seeing your future slipping away. You’d spent the last two months working with Bobby. Was that all for nothing? Dean sat across from you looking as serious as a heart attack. You wanted to be with him, that was unquestionable. You just wondered if he knew he was selling your dream with the brewery.

     He both loved and hated that he could see every thought and emotion cross her face. She either wouldn’t or couldn’t hide anything from him. Not for the first time, he regretted bringing her into his too often chaotic life.

     “Nothing will touch you,” his voice was soft. She was the most important person in his life and he was going to do everything possible to make her happy and safe. “I promise. The dealership isn’t tied to the brewery. The Family Business is a… I don’t know what you call it, an Umbrella Academy.”

     “Company,” you said more to yourself than him.

     “You will have everything I promised you, I promise,” he said, reaching to take your hand.

     Somehow, just feeling the warm strength of his hand in yours made you feel a little better.

     “I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, but we’ll get through it and we can go on that vacation you keep talkin’ about, okay?”

     You needed to take a few deep breaths. It would be okay. Nothing had stopped you before, nothing was going to stop you now. Steeling yourself, you nodded. There were worse things in the world than slightly unstable employment.

     “Okay, I’m with you, whatever happens. I’ve got your back,” your voice wavered, the worry evident in your voice.

     He got up from his spot at the table and pulled you up with him. His arms grasping you into his comforting embrace. One arm squeezed around your shoulders, the other had rubbing your back.

     “What do you say we go to Minnesota next weekend, have some fun with Donna and Ryan?” he suggested.

     He could have said ‘polar plunge’ and you would have agreed. You and he both needed to get away and have a little reset on everything. Just the thought of nothing to do whatsoever had you feeling better about things. It didn’t hurt that the man you loved, and who loved you back, showed you as often as possible.

     “That sounds great,” you agreed. “Then Jack can take Harry for a while and we can catch up. I haven’t heard from them in ages, all of them, actually.” It had been maybe three weeks since you’d last talked to Ryan and even longer for Donna and Jack. You didn’t even know what was happening with them…

     Dean smiled a little as he looked down at you, “Can’t wait.”

     As promised, a week later, you and Dean were on your way to Bemidji. It was the first week of November and the air had finally turned toward more crisp temperatures. Somewhat surprisingly, Dean was letting you drive his precious car. He’d actually asked you to drive. What wasn’t surprising was that Dean was constantly on his phone texting.

     “Who are you texting so much?” you needed to know. It had been bugging you for weeks. Whomever it was, he kept his answers to your questions short and sweet with ‘work’ or ‘some jackhole wanting something.’

     Dean pushed the button to make the screen go black. “Jack,” was all he said.

     “Jack? What did he want?” you didn’t care if you sounded annoyed. Jack was your best buddy, not Dean’s. What the hell? You would let Jack have a piece of your mind if he ever answered your calls or texts, the big jerk.

     “I was telling him we were coming up for a visit and thought we could get together, so I’ve been planning a little party,” he explained.

     “Oh, for the get together?”

     “Yeah,” he was still being vague.

     You gave him some hard side-eye.

     “Since when are you two besties?” you asked.

     “Me ‘n Jack? We’re cool,” he played it off. It was too soon to give up the surprise. “We’re not not friends. He’s cool. We talk.”

     “About what, exactly?” you were so suspicious. As far as you knew, Jack and Dean only talked when you needed him to watch Harry.

     “You, mostly, and how crazy you are,” he braced himself on the swing he saw coming. With a chuckle, he went on, “Donna dumped him.”

     “What? She did?!”

     “Yeah. She didn’t tell you?”

     “No.”

     Donna had been dodging your calls and texting you excuses. It had been more than a little upsetting. Donna had been your friend for far too long to be ghosting you the way she was. At least, it made a little more sense with the news Dean dropped on you.

     “Is Jack okay with that?” you had a slight worry for him. Jack was 100% kind of guy. He was either all-in or didn’t give a shit and, you’d hoped, just a little, that maybe Donna would be the all-in. 

     Dean had accepted long ago that Jack would be in (Y|N)’s life just because of who she was and she would always care about him. Jack was part of her family like Ryan and Donna...but not Chuck, screw that guy.

     “I doubt he’s crying in his pillow, sweetheart, if that’s what you’re getting at. We’re also not that kind of friends,” he grinned.

     He couldn’t wait for the weekend. It had been driving him crazy to keep the secret for so long. Dean knew it was getting to her, that was obvious, so he’d been making sure to give her attention when she needed it. The last thing he wanted was to blow it and ruin everything. He only had to be careful a little longer.

     You were back in Dean’s apartment in Bemidji for only a night and Dean had been acting strange. Stranger than usual. You’d gotten used to him ignoring his phone after seven. You barely noticed his cryptic answers to your questions and how he would leave the room if he did take a call. At first, it made you worry. Dean was quite the catch. Smart, handsome, funny, and with the Family Business, valuable… If he was messing around, he was doing a damned good job of hiding it. Other than the phone calls and texts, nothing unusual. No lipstick on the collar. No perfumes. No loss of affections… He wasn’t cheating, you were almost certain, but he was hiding something.

     That morning, you noticed he seemed nervous and commented as much to him.

     “What? Me? Nervous? No way!” he scoffed, “I’m cool as a cucumber.”

     He definitely was not. You watched as he paced the floor, his arms making big swings as he unclenched his fists and clapped his hands out in front of him.

     “Oh really?” you asked, “Cuz you look so wound up that a loud fart might set you off.”

     He didn’t even smirk.

     “Hey. Let’s go do something this afternoon,” he said. When he saw you perk up, he continued, “We should go somewhere nice.”

     “Like...how nice? Dress pants nice or ball gown nice?”

     Dean shrugged, “Somewhere in the middle?”

     Your mind immediately went to the pale blue, knee-length dress you bought over summer. With all that happened with John, the move, and learning from Bobby, you hadn’t gotten a chance to try it out.

     “...okay,” you answered, still wary of his odd behavior.

     With a quick nod, Dean said, “Cool,” then immediately left without another word or look in your direction.

     A few hours later, Dean text you the time he would come to pick you up. While you were at the apartment, you tried to do a little work and attempted calls to your friends. They were all busy. If they answered, they seemed excited you were in town, but no one could talk. Even Jack dodged you. It would have been nice to talk to someone about how strange your fiance was acting. Focusing on work was almost impossible.

     After a while, you were finally able to set the feelings aside and get into the work groove and work until your alarm sounded telling you to get ready. When you were done getting ready for your day date with Dean, you felt a little like Cinderella. Your dress fit a little tighter than you remembered, but you had been stress eating and attributed the tightness to the eclairs and peanut butter cups. The short sleeves went to just above your elbow. Unsure of what shoes to choose for this mystery date, you decided on black flats since the weather was still nice. With only your hair left to do, you looked at the unruly mess that you’d dealt with all your life. Opening the drawer to your left, you dug in the contents until you found a hair tie with shiny beads. Setting it aside, you ran a brush through your hair until it didn’t snag, then put your hair up in a simple ponytail. Calling it good, you text Dean you were ready and started down to the front door.

     Dean had been with her most of the morning. She already had a lot done. Mostly, she just needed help setting up. She and Christina had moved a lot of the smaller items out of the great room, but Dean was needed for the larger pieces. Once the room was open, the decorating could begin. 

     The first time Dean called Ryan, he’d called her on (Y|N)’s phone. When she’d asked, “What the hell?”, he’d responded with, “I wanted to make sure you’d answer” and quickly had her call him back on his phone. After he’d laid out his idea for her, she wasn’t super excited to jump onboard with him. It was only when he called her back to say he couldn’t find a place that meant something to (Y|N) and him that she finally agreed to help and offered her home for the “get together,” as they’d begun to call it.

     Surprisingly… or maybe not surprising, Dean knew what he wanted for the “get together” and was very helpful with decisions and choosing the appropriate items. Ryan was impressed with how well he knew her best friend and would have made the same choices.

     You descended the stairs anticipating what plans Dean had for you for the day. For a fleeting moment, it had crossed your mind that maybe you’d been duped the entire time. Pushing the door open, the sight of your gorgeous fiance laid all question to rest, for the moment, at least.

    He was just getting out of his car when you saw him. Whatever it was he’d been doing that morning, he’d come back wearing your favorite blue suit. For some reason, he always kept a suit in the trunk with a “go bag.” You supposed it made sense with all of the traveling he’d had to do.

     When he saw you, he was just closing the car door. Dean stopped and flashed his bright smile at you and leaned back against the car, his hands in the pockets of his wool overcoat. You went directly to him, resting your hands on his chest, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. His mouth smiled against yours and you could feel a chuckle rising up in his chest. Enjoying his always radiating heat, you moved your arms around him, inside his jacket.

     Dean put the open ends of his coat around you, his arms holding you close. You loved him and how he made you feel loved in return, just by touching.

     “Do you ever wear a coat?” he asked. His mouth was just above your ear.

     “If I did, I wouldn’t be able to do this,” you answered.

     “C’mon,” he gently pushed you away, then shrugged off his jacket. He held up his coat so you could put it on. Walking you to the passenger side, he opened the car door for you to get in. 

     He just needed to make it to Ryan’s house, then all of the sneaking around could be over. Dean could keep a secret, but he didn’t like having to do it. It was hard. And he hated hiding it from her, especially since she knew everything else that mattered to him.

     Quickly, he got in on his side and the were on the way.

     “Where’ve you been all morning and what’s with the suit?” you asked.

     “Oh, ...we’re just gonna...jump right into it?” he made a small punching movement.

     “Yeah,” you tried to keep your tone playful, “I mean, I’ve been patient. I haven’t nagged you about whatever it is you’ve been hiding from me for months. The texts, the calls, the cryptic answers to my simple questions… You left in your usual at-home clothes and now you’re in a suit. What gives?”

     “It’s a surprise,” he shrugged. He wasn’t close enough yet.

     You gave Dean a hint of side-eye, “Do you remember our agreement?”

     “The one where we help each other and get everything we ever wanted?” he raised his brows at you in question.

You couldn’t be mad at him even if you tried. He did everything he could to make you happy and keep you that way. Usually you saw eye-to-eye on almost everything and rarely argued. If you did argue, it was almost always over food, TV, or movies. Even then, one of you would acquiesce before it got too heated. 

     “I meant the part where we don’t lie to each other,” you said softly.

     It was Dean’s turn to you a look.

     “If I told you what I was planning, it wouldn’t be a surprise,” he said. “The surprise,” he continued, drawing out his explanation, “was really hard to keep. Everyone is in on it. All the texts and phone calls? It was all of our friends and family helping me get this ready.”

     Dean made the 2nd to last turn to Ryan’s house. It was then that you noticed you were following a line of cars and how unusual it was to see out in the country around Ryan’s house.

     “Are all of these people going to the get together?” you were at a loss.

     Dean nodded, “This year has been insane. And I know we’ve been through a lot...of shit,” he paused for emphasis, “If we can get through all of that and still want to get married, I call that a win.” He took the turn up Ryan’s long driveway.

     “All the sneaking was for this?”

     He nodded again and parked the car by the front door, just as planned, and got out to open (Y|N)’s door. Dean swung the door wide and held out his hand to help you out of the car. 

     “So, will you?” he’d really thrown her. His heart was beating in his throat waiting for her to answer, “Will you marry me?”

     “Yes,” you said as you got out of his car.

     You were utterly confused as he held your hand. Everyone already knew you were engaged, what was the get together for? He had an odd expression on his face as you walked, side by side with him to the door. He seemed nervous, scared, and excited all at the same time.

     “Today okay with you?” he asked, walking you to the door.

     You sputtered, “It seems like a nice day…” You looked up at the bright fall sky, remarkably clear and blue. “Okay for what?”

     Dean waited patiently as your brain caught up to his. You hadn’t even noticed that you were already inside Ryan and Christina’s formal entry. When you looked around, your first thought was, “What the hell kind of party looks like a wedding?”

     There were flowers everywhere. All of your favorite kinds seemed to be sitting on every available surface. Soft music was playing over the household sound system… your favorite band. It was one you’d discovered with Dean and you couldn’t get enough. It finally hit you and the shock must have registered on your face.

     “You okay? You look like you’re gonna yack,” he observed, “no yacking.”

     “Whu...whu... what about my mom… and… and Bobby and Sam?” you were having a hard time forming a coherent thought.

     “Typical. Always forgettin’ ‘bout the ol’ man,” Jack had appeared.

     “She remembered me, at least,” your mom elbowed Jack. “Dean. Jack. Give us a minute.”

     Dean nodded, “I’ll just… be the one down front.”

     “Not if I get there first,” Jack teased as they left. You lost track of Dean as he disappeared into the crowd of all your friends and family. Jack hadn’t gone far, but he went far enough for you and your mom to talk privately.

     “Dean did it all,” she began. “He mentioned his idea when you guys came to my house last Christmas.”

     “And you’re okay with it?” you couldn’t believe what was happening.

     “Honey, that boy loves you like Jack never did. He tried so hard to make this day perfect for you...if you’re looking for my blessing… you have it,” your mom reassured you. “He obviously makes you happy and anyone can see that you love him, too.”

     Ryan had, somehow, snuck up on you.

     “Hey, lady, we doing this?” she asked. “We can change this to the best, no-special-reason party ever.”

     “Did you do all of this?”

     Ryan scoffed in mock indignation, “Please. Do you really think Impala Guy could pull this spectacular wedding off without me? Come on.”

     Ryan searched your face for some kind of answer and since none came from your mouth, “(Y|N), I know it’s a lot, but Dean is the guy. You knew almost right away. No one ever came close to the way Dean loves you. He helped me pick out all of this and stressed over the little things. The meathead,” she nodded in Jack’s direction, “couldn’t even be bothered to give a shit about you enough to do this. Dean is going to love you and take care of you and be with you every step of the way.”

     Your eyes flashed to Jack.

     “He knows what he did,” Ryan reminded. “Are you in love with Dean?”

     “Yes,” you nodded.

     “Do you want to be with anyone else?”

     “No,” you shook your head.

     “Good,” Ryan handed you a small bouquet of your favorite flowers, “what better day than today? You look fabulous, by they way. I dig the hair tie.”

     Your hands went to your hair.

     “No, leave it,” Ryan said, “it’s good.” She motioned Jack to come over.

     “It was you Dean was texting?” you said to Ryan.

     “Of course, it was me. Don’t be dumb,” she passed it off. “He’s a smitten kitten. You’d think you hung the moon…” Ryan rolled her eyes. The two of you had a long enough history for her to know all of your dirty little secrets.

     “The lass has that affect on us fellas,” Jack oozed charm. Sticking out his elbow to you, he said, “Shall we? The laddie’s damn near pissin’ himself by now.”

     “You were in on this, too?” you asked.

     “Aye. Told ya, you need anything… Figured I outghta be the one to give ye away,” he answered.

     You had deep affection for Jack and you hoped the look you gave him said that. You looked around and didn’t spot your blonde, spitfire of a friend, “Is Donna here?”

     Jack slightly stiffened his posture. “Suspect she is. Can ye nae feel the chill?” he whispered.

     Leave it to Jack to try to lighten the mood. You snickered and gave him a small nudge.

     “Maybe it’s comin’ from yer ma,” he joked more. “Jaysus, the look she gave me would turn a lesser man ta stone.”

     At that remark, you let out a loud ‘ha!” drawing the attention of curious guests.

     “I’m no scairt of much, but yer ma?” he did a full body shiver, “Woman scare the shite out o’ me.”

     “Never look directly at Medusa,” you were giggling.

     “Never have. It’s how I’ve lived so long,” he was chuckling with you.

     After Ryan told you and Jack to get your shit together so she could queue the music, you and he shook off your giggles and settled yourselves. Ryan rolled her eyes again and you recognized the opening strains of Bryan Adams’ “Heaven” beginning to play.

     Jack put his hand over yours and looked down at you. His expression silently asking you, “Ready?” When you nodded, he smiled and began walking you down the aisle and the future he knew Dean would give you.

     You were glad Jack was there. His pace was the only thing keeping you from running forward to Dean. He’d just stopped forward and his eyes locked with yours. You didn’t even see Donna, Jess, Sam, or Bobby… only Dean. No worries. No fears. Only the excitement one feels knowing they are walking to their destiny. Coming to a stop next to Dean, you snapped out of your dreamy daze at the sound of Bobby’s voice.

     “Darlin’, I never thought I’d see this day.”

     His smile warmed you and you realized it was the first time you’d seen him without a hat. He looked so handsome.

     “Oh, Bobby, you got dressed up,” you sighed.

     “Still can’t believe this idjit’s getting married,” he tipped his head toward Dean, “Thought I’d better mark the occasion.”

     In a quick moment, Jack kissed your temple and left you with Dean. From the time you walked in Ryan’s house, you felt like you were on a runaway rollercoaster. When Jack put your hand in Dean’s, you were no longer terrified of running off the rails. You were where you were supposed to be and time finally seemed to slow down enough to where you could concentrate on what was happening. You couldn’t have wished for anything more than what was right next to you.

     You looked over at Dean. He must have felt the exact same as you. Scared and excited at the same time. You’d never thought you’d be so happy and ready to get married and now, it was all you wanted. He squeezed your hand and you smiled at him.

     “Whatdya say we get this show on the road?” Bobby whispered to you both.

     Your eyes were locked with Dean’s, “I am so ready.”

If I could make a wish

I think I'd pass

Can't think of anything I need

No cigarettes, no sleep, no light, no sound

Nothing to eat, no books to read

Making love with you

Has left me peaceful warm and tired

What more could I ask

There's nothing left to be desired

Peace came upon me and it leaves me weak

So sleep, silent angel go to sleep

Epilogue:

     Ryan had managed to catch a moment with Donna while the new bride and groom were getting ready to leave the shindig. Donna, of course, had made the cake and brought her famous donuts. The two best friends of the bride each had a donut and were watching from the front door as they were getting into Dean’s Impala.

     “Welp, I guess we don’t haaaafta kill him,” Donna mused.

     Ryan looked at how (Y|N) and Dean were both beaming, “Yeah, not unless he’s a monster.”

     “Oh yeah, then we’re doin’ it. I got a wood chipper,” Donna added.

     “I know a guy with a hog farm,” Ryan offered.

     The two ladies looked at each other and cheers’d with donuts.

     The wedding had been a flurry of activity and partying that had left the day a blur except for the feeling of finally being Mrs. Dean Winchester. Dean wasn’t done with his surprise, though. The next afternoon, when you’d both recovered from the day before, he slipped you two tickets to paradise. He actually got on an airplane with you and went to your dream vacation location, the Maldives. Clothing, of course, was optional. Two whole weeks in the topics in November couldn’t have been more perfect. Leaving the islands was tough but it had been the much needed break you both had needed so badly. 

     The sale of the brewery began. When it was all said and done, it would take over a year to complete and you and Dean would be free of that ball and chain. Dean stayed busy with running the brewery in the meantime, but he still took time on weekends to look for places to begin his brewery.

     What neither of you had expected, or planned, was another little surprise that came along in May… and you named her Nova Grace Winchester.

[barbarasbae]

Just a Taste-The Dirt

Part four of Just a Taste 

Vampire!Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

This chapter is very exposition heavy and I tried to make the formatting bareable

Warnings: blood mention, some smut, violence, death mention, near death experience, abduction, violence against women, 18+

SMUT BELOW THE CUT. be careful young readers

original gif by @bills-skarsgard 

“Hey, wake up.” A gruff voice demanded, shaking her thigh. “What?” 

“I wanna eat.” 

“Okay.” She suddenly remembered what he meant as he pulled her panties off her hips. She rolled over to her back in an attempt for it to be easier for him. He took his time, resting his head on her thigh, just barely dipping his tongue in her folds. In the sun, it wouldn’t take much to get her to say he looked like an angel, even with the fangs that could end her life in seconds. He nibbled delicately on her little bud, her sucking in air, her knees lifting. He smirked, her feeling it against her lower lips. “Does this hurt?” He asked, nudging the little scratch he accidentally gave to her the night before. “No.” 

“Okay, good.” He came up all of a sudden, blood covering his mouth. He wiped it off with the back of his hand, pulling himself out of his boxers. He put her ankles on his shoulders, rubbing his cock up and down her slit, her reaching down and gripping two of his fingers as an anchor. “Billy…” She whimpered softly, her headboard tapping the wall. Her door then opened, Y/n letting out a shocked gasp as her mom came in. “Morning sweetie, it’s time to get up.”

“Thanks mom. Can you shut my door?” She did, Billy going over from under her bed and locking the door. He pounced on her, pulling her legs back on top of the sheets and towels, cock bottoming out inside her. “Gotta give me a little bit of a warning...oh god.” She moaned, lips sucking on the column of her throat. “Y/N! THERE’S PANCAKES ON THE COUNTER!” Her dad yelled, Y/n trying to ignore it in favor of the boy that was inside her. She reached down, rubbing fast circles on her clit as an attempt to get off quickly. “If we didn’t need to be done quickly I’d tie your arms to the bed.” He gave in an empty threat, in favor of not just using his partners to masturbate. His abs flexed, a shuddering breath leaving his mouth. His thumb starting to fight her fingers for control of her clit. He won, her hand flying to her mouth. He came with a hard exhale through his nose,  her biting down on the back of her fist. He got off of her, finding his clothes. “See you at school.” He told her, kissing her cheek. “Bye.” She muttered, but he was already gone. 

“Meet me outside the boy’s locker room after practice.” Billy said in her ear in between the last bells of the day. She nervously waited in her car, watching the basketball team come out of the school before she headed towards the gym. She waved to the coach who had been talking to a kid named Christian that was in her English class. She got yanked into the locker room, a scared shriek leaving her body. Billy laughed as she caught her breath. “Not funny, asshat.” 

“Yes it is.” Billy was very naked, she realized. She looked away, coughing in embarrassment. “Why’d you kidnap me?” She asked, looking at her feet. “Wanted to talk to you.” She jumped, his voice in her ear. “Don’t make me put a bell on you like a cat.” She joked. She turned, hearing him zip up. “Trust me, babe, you’d be the first of us to wear a collar.” Her jaw fell open, him smirking. “I may have lied about what I wanted you to meet me here.” She raised an eyebrow expectantly. “I wanted fuck you before I have to go home and deal with my dad.”

“Not happening here.” She said definitively. “We can go to my house though.” That smile was already getting her in trouble. 

She took a deep breath and tried to think about how she was willingly sleeping with a vampire while said vampire parked his car. He could still smell what they had done this morning on her bedding when she let him in her room. He didn’t really good look at it the night before, thinking everything was just about as girly as he had expected from her. It was cute. “Your parents gone for a few hours?”

“Hour. What? I have homework.” 

“You’re not giving me much time here, baby.” She knew she shouldn’t but she felt special when he called her pet names. “Then work fast.” She winked. 

He didn’t have to be told twice, pulling her to him and unbuttoning her pants. There were some desperate kisses exchanged, her fingers pulling apart the buttons on his shirt, then moving to his zipper. She climbed on her bed as the clink of his belt sent a shiver up her spine. He stripped to his boxers, her pulling her top off to also just be in her underwear. He crawled in between her legs, warm hands sliding up her thighs until they found a home on her hips. His mouth was heavy against hers, a silent refusal to let up as her lungs started to burn. She tugged on his wet curls, gasping in a breath. She let a hand travel up his back, Billy teasingly sucking on the hickey that he’d painstakingly made the night before. Then something on her dresser caught his eye. “Wait...what’s this?” He sat up and grabbed it, her protests coming a little too late. He sat back and scanned it, looking up at her confused. “Y/n, what’s this about?” He lowered it from his face. It was her vampire notes. “Are you going to kill me?” Wooden stake had been highlighted and circled. His lower lip trembled a little. “No! I-I just-I was scared and curious and didn’t know how to process that I had slept with a vampire-” 

“You coulda just asked me.” He sounded upset. “I’m sorry.” He got up and threw it away, pulling his jeans back on. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“Going home.”

“Billy.” He looked up at her, his eyes red. She had really upset him. Shit. “Billy I’m sorry. You just scared me so bad when you said you would kill me if I told anyone and…” she trailed off, him walking to her and throwing her over his shoulder. He grabbed her clothes and then carried her down stairs. “Billy! Billy where the hell are we going?!” 

“Get dressed.” She did, Billy pulling his shirt back on, finding his boots. She couldn’t help but feel nervous. “Bring your coat.” She did what he told her, but he still threw her back over his shoulder and carried her to his car. She buckled, gripping the leather seat once he started backing out. He drove to the quarry and parked facing the water. “Billy you’re scaring me.” She said softly, watching the blond as he thought. “I really thought I had met my best friend in Santa Cruz. He was cool, older, good with girls. I thought he was gonna just show me how he does it, like teach me, you know?”

Billy didn’t look at her once while he recalled how he was turned into a vampire. It had happened about a year and a half earlier. Billy was standing on the boardwalk, flirting with a blonde girl and her red haired friend, the girls getting ice cream. Then this guy in a black leather jacket and a bright smile swooped in. “Come on girls, do you really want Rob Lowe jr to tell you where the fun is?” They were both on this guys arm in an instant, the guy waltzing away with them as Billy watched in shock. It happened again three days later, the guy telling him not to worry too much about it. “Plenty of bitches in the sea.” He winked, leaving Billy yet again alone. Billy would be lying if he said he didn’t find this douche attractive. Yes, physically, but there was also this...energy he had that just drove Billy’s curiosity wild. So he figured out where and when he was on the boardwalk and convinced himself to go talk to him. At least get him to tell Billy how he got girls so easy. 

“Hey! Rob Lowe jr!” The guy crowed. “Hi.”

“You come to finally get me off your turf, kid.”

“No...I wanted to know how you do it.”

“Do what?”

“Get girls so easily.”

“Sorry, magicians don’t reveal their secrets.” He told Billy and started walking off after a group of surfer girls. “Hey, wait up! What’s your name?”

“Jonathan.” 

“Jonathan.” Billy repeated. He started following Jonathan around, Jonathan showing him how he got girls so easy, taught him how to pinpoint what each girl’s weakness would most likely be based on how they smiled alone. It was crazy. And it worked. After Billy had been in Jonathan’s friend group for about a month, they brought him to this cave on the beach. “What are we doing?”

“You’re joining the big leagues, man.” Jonathan slapped him on the shoulder. There was a girl Billy’s age tied up, gag in her mouth. “Man, what the hell is going on.”

“It’s time you know what we actually do with most girls.” One of Jonathan’s other friends, a tall guy with long, brown hippie hair named Aaron going over to the girl and taking her gag off. She yelled for them to help, Billy feeling sick as she made eye contact with him. “Hey, calm down sweetheart. Just relax. It’ll be over soon.” The brunet said in a sickly sweet tone, the girl crying and trying to get away from him. Then Aaron had fangs. Aaron had fangs.  He held the girls shoulders down, sinking his fangs into her neck, a disgusting gargle leaving her throat as he drank her blood. Billy tried to make a run for it, but Jonathan was ahead of him and grabbed him by the back of his neck. “You’re so pretty, Billy. You’ll be such great bait.” He said, slamming the younger boy on the ground. “Get the fuck off of me!” Billy screamed, Jonathan straddling him. Jonathan pinned his arms down, someone else gagging him. “Be still, it’ll make it less painful.” Billy kicked and flailed, trying his best to get away. But he couldn’t get away and Jonathan sunk his giant fangs into Billy’s neck. Billy screamed into the fabric in his mouth, his vision starting to swim, a hum vibrating from Jonathan’s chest into his own, a noise of satisfaction. Billy was absolutely terrified. “Bring me a knife.” Billy felt too light, vaguely seeing Jonathan cut his arm before forcing Billy’s mouth open, the gag gone. Billy gagged as iron flooded his mouth but his limbs felt like lead. He couldn’t move. “How sweet, crying for help.” Jonathan teased, Billy blacking out as a pain like fire rocketed through his veins. 

Billy woke up on the beach, the waves too loud. “You feel ok, bud?” Jonathan’s voice found its way into Billy’s ears. “Fuck you.” He just laughed.

Billy stopped talking, looking over at Y/n. She had interlaced her fingers with his while he was talking. She looked down at her lap. “I’m so sorry, Billy.”

He shrugged. “Why’d you come to Hawkins?”

“Neil thought I was spending too much time with Jonathan. Thought we were fucking around. Also, I almost killed the mailman.” She looked up at him with wide eyes. “I’m kidding.” She relaxed, squeezing his hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask.”

“Its okay. I get why.” He said, knowing how scary it was to be on the receiving end of those fangs. “Wanna go get burgers?”

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Please send me an ask or dm if you would like to be tagged in this series

@xxphoenixflyerxx

@thats-so-rhyan

[bulbpix]

If You Just Listened - Part 8

After the amazing performance, you and Arthur headed inside towards the old rickety elevator, chatting about the day. Although your eyes were still red, and your nose was still runny, you felt much better. You had Arthur to thank for that.

Your conversation was briefly interrupted by the elevator abruptly stopping, causing the lights to flicker. Neither of you were surprised, it was a common occurrence in your building. You stood there together in a brief but peaceful silence before turning to him.

"Hey," you began. "Hm?" "That was really nice of you. What you did outside, I mean." "Oh, that was just my routine," he chuckled. "It was nothing, really." "Well whatever it was, it meant a lot to me," you retorted, your volume a little louder than you meant for it to be.

Arthur stared at you, startled by your mini-outburst. You sighed, placing your hand on his shoulder. You didn't mean to take that tone with him. You were just stressed right now. Hopefully he understood that. You ran your thumb along the fabric of his over-sized blazer, noting the amount of bright colors on it.

'What a ridiculous jacket.'

You smiled.

Arthur's mind was racing. Your hand was right there, right on his shoulder. Your hand was on his shoulder. Your hand was on his shoulder! Should he say something? Was this just a normal thing people do? The only person that had ever left their hand on his shoulder for this long was his mom. He looked at you closely.

Yep, you definitely weren't his mom.

Should he put his hand on your shoulder? At work he saw the guys patting each other on the shoulders but they never just left their hands there. Was it a good thing to hold people's shoulders? Was it a bad thing to hold people's shoulders? It definitely didn't feel like a bad thing to have his shoulder held. And you were smiling, so surely that meant it was a good thing. He wondered when you would hold his shoulder like this again. He wondered when he would have the chance to leave one of his hands on one of your shoulders! Oh god, his heart was pounding so hard he was sure he would die. But if he died right now, with your hand still on his shoulder, maybe it wouldn't be so bad...

"Arthur?"

He shook himself out of his trance.

"Yeah?"

"Isn't this your floor?" you asked, a bit concerned. He had been staring at his shoulder for a quite a while now, although the elevator had already arrived at his level. "Oh..." he began, embarrassed by his obvious stupor. "Right." He took a few steps out of the elevator, walking towards his apartment.

"Arthur?" You asked, stopping the elevator door with your foot. He turned to you, still trying to come down from his nerves and greatly attempting to hide it. "Yes?" You looked at his face, and the clown makeup that covered it. "I just wanted to say... you're a good friend. See you for breakfast tomorrow?"

His face turned into a smile so big you were sure it was stretching his skin. He tried to speak, but only a few unintelligible stutters came out.

You giggled, his strange tendencies were just so funny to you now. "I'll take that as a yes." You brought your foot back in the elevator, waving to him as the door closed.

Arthur was overwhelmed in the best way possible. He stood there, staring at the elevator and unable to move.

His hand reached up, slowly resting on the spot of his shoulder that you had held. He squeezed it, wishing your hand was still there. A small laugh escaped his lips, followed by another, then another, until he was in a full blown laughing fit. This was the first time he laughed this hard and actually enjoyed it. He laughed his entire way into his apartment, finally stopping as he closed the door.

He pulled off his clown wig, plopping down on his living room couch. He couldn't stop thinking about you. Especially not now. He touched his shoulder again, staring blankly into the TV that his now-asleep mom had left on. Tomorrow you would have breakfast together, but tomorrow was so far from now.

He rested his chin on his hand, sighing. He just had to see you one more time. Just once. Then he could sleep. At least, that's what he told himself.

You took a deep breath as you closed your apartment entrance, trying to brush away any thoughts of money problems. You just needed a minute to relax. You kicked off your heels as you approached your small TV, squatting down to switch it on. The Murray Franklin Show was practically over, but that was fine. You didn't watch it much anyway.

You stood up, moving your head and shoulders to the beat as the show's band played the closing music. You reached behind you, tugging on your skirt's zipper as you approached your bedside mirror. You let it fall off your hips, and kicked it to the side as you whistled along to the melody. You snapped your fingers, laughing at yourself in the mirror as you did an exaggerated dance and slowly unbuttoned your blouse.

Arthur knew this was wrong. He didn't bother asking himself what he was doing or why he was doing it. His hands were pressed against the cool glass of your window, watching through the narrow blinds. He smiled once he saw your channel selection, ecstatic that you had something in common. He wanted so badly to tell you that, but he couldn't. He bit his lower lip, trying to stop himself from blurting out anything stupid.

As you continued walking closer to the window, he grew more and more nervous. What if you saw him? What would you think of him then? The risk was high, he knew that. But still he remained, unable to rip his gaze away from you.

He could feel his chest tighten as your skirt hit the ground. He sighed, his fingers pressing harder against the window. And you danced! You danced! Oh god, he loved it. He quietly hummed the tune of That's Life, moving his shoulders just like you, wishing so desperately that you were dancing together.

And then, he stopped. He was motionless, with the exception of his quickly rising and falling chest, as your delicate fingers un-did the first button of your shirt. Was this real? Was he just dreaming? His eyes were wide in disbelief as it slid off your shoulders.

Your shoulders. They were beautiful.

His breath hitched as they came into view. He closed his eyes, picturing himself there - with you.

You turned to him, smiling so softly. Your hand went up, touching his cheek. "Arthur," you whispered, pushing a strand of hair from his face. "I'm so glad you're here." He smiled back at you, nudging his cheek into your touch. Your gentle, warm touch. "I'm glad I'm here too." You giggled your adorable giggle. Arthur could feel himself melt. You took his hand in yours, guiding it up to your shoulder. He could feel your smooth skin under his fingers. You watched his face as he felt you, and he watched you right back.

Arthur let out a deep exhale, lost in his imagination. His forehead hit the window with a blunt THUNK.

'What was that?!' You grabbed a glass bottle of perfume off your vanity, holding it up as a weapon. Your breathing was quickened as you slowly backed away from the window beside you.

Were you being watched? The thought was terrifying. You had managed to avoid being a victim of any crime in Gotham so far. Would this be the night your streak ended?

You were breathing even faster now.

Your entire body was trembling with fear as you took a step closer to your window. No one had broken in yet, so maybe that was a good thing.

You took another step closer.

Nothing still. Maybe this was your imagination. Surely if someone was there, they would have smashed the glass by now. Or maybe you were just rationalizing to come to terms with your quickly approaching demise.

You made your final step towards the window.

Slowly, you reached for the rope on your blinds. This was it. If someone was there, you would have to be ready. You tightened your grip on the glass perfume bottle, and took a deep breath.

'3... 2... 1!'

You yanked the rope, making your blinds shoot open. You flinched, shutting your eyes as tightly as you could, shivering and hanging on to the bottle in a quite pathetic display of self defense.

Nothing happened. You opened one eye, making sure the coast was clear.

Sure enough, no one was there.

You approached the window, looking side to side. Nothing. You sighed in relief, shutting your blinds. That was strange. You were so sure you heard something. Then again, you did just have a very stressful day. Maybe it was best that you just went to sleep.

Arthur couldn't believe himself. He was panting, his back pressed tightly against the wall by your window.  Thank God you didn't see him. He pushed his hair back, smacking his face a few times to bring himself back to reality. He was ashamed. He knew he shouldn't have done that to you. Especially not after everything you had done for him.

The wave of guilt hit him like a train, and a small chuckle escaped him. Then another. He quickly covered his mouth, and ran down the fire escape steps back to his apartment.

A/N - nsfw but also not nsfw??? IDK. also i just realized all my bold and italic stuff wasnt copying over from wattpad, ill be more attentive of that now

[7-wonders]

Gala Blues

Summary: At a political gala, you’re ridiculed and objectified by some of Duncan’s colleagues. A fight ensues between you and Duncan, continuing to a standoff that can only end in one way. 

Word Count: 2777

Author’s Note: NSFW AHEAD! The story will be placed under a cut. This is my first Duncan Shepherd fic, so let me know what you think. 

You’re sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of champagne and talking with a freshman Congresswoman whose campaign you followed for a while, when a hand wraps around your waist.

“Come here, there’s some people I want you to meet.” Duncan whispers into your ear. You don’t even have time to be shocked when he maneuvers you away from the conversation. Shooting Alexandria a shocked look, she rolls her eyes and mouths something that looks like ‘asshole.’

“You do realize that I was talking to someone, right? Alexandria was telling me about the support her bill proposal is getting.” You frown when you look up at him and see that he’s not even paying attention to you, eyes focused on a group ahead of him.

You huff, letting him tug you along through the crowd. You didn’t even want to come to this political function that the Shepherd Foundation was co-sponsoring; you had briefs to look over, and you’d much rather be on your couch in sweatpants with a glass of wine instead of wearing an uncomfortable pair of heels and a dress that makes you look completely out of place.

“Duncan.” You hiss. He looks down at you, and the disinterest on his face has you mildly fuming.

“Not now, (Y/N).” You reach a group of (old, white) prominent male lobbyists who immediately leer at you.

“Mr. Shepherd!” One of the men greets, clasping Duncan’s hand tightly. “How’s the app development coming along?” You attempt to make yourself smaller by standing behind Duncan, trying anything to get the gazes of these random men off of you.

“We’re getting there. We had to jump through a few hoops with copyright and things like that, but we’re hoping for a launch date of later this year.”

“Are you not going to introduce us to the lovely lady next to you, Duncan?” Another man asks, his eyes raking over your barely-visible cleavage. Duncan, who apparently forgot that he had dragged you over here, grabs your hand and yanks you to his side.

“This, gentlemen,” Duncan smirks at the men. “is (Y/N), my date.” You have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at the way he says ‘date,’ like you haven’t been dating for almost a year.

“(Y/N).” One of the men says slowly, letting your name roll off of his tongue. In this moment, you’ve never felt sicker at the use of your name. “Now tell me, Duncan, where’d you manage to find one like this in D.C.?”

“She’s a lawyer.” Duncan says conspiratorially, causing the group to let out whistles and chuckles.

“Well, well, well! That must, uh, come in handy.” He’s talking about the Shepherd Foundation’s less-than-legal dealings, as if you had something to do with the embezzlement charges getting dropped before you even met Duncan.

“Actually, I’m one of Maryland’s top prosecutors.” You stick up for yourself, since Duncan obviously won’t. They all laugh, taking your statement as some sort of a joke.

“Y’know, I’ve had a few lawyers in my time. Tell me Duncan,” The man who tried your name out like an ill-fitting sweater says. “does your arm-candy’s spunk in the courtroom extend to the bedroom?” Your mouth falls open as the group chortles, and your face burns when Duncan slyly winks before taking a sip of his bourbon. You yank yourself out of his grasp a little rougher than necessary.

“You’ll have to excuse me, gentlemen.” You sneer, downing the rest of your champagne before walking towards the nearest exit. You don’t even look back to see Duncan’s expression, knowing from the jeers that they’re all choosing to stare at your ass and congratulate your boyfriend on his ‘find.’ The disgust at this rampant sexism sends goosebumps up and down your spine, and you fight the hot tears that attempt to spill the entire way to the outdoor patio.

The car ride through downtown D.C. is silent for a while, with you sitting as far away from Duncan as possible.

“Can we talk?” He finally speaks, and you’re momentarily pleased that he’s taking the initiative to apologize.

“You have the floor.” You say quietly, still looking out the window at the lights passing by.

“What the hell was that that you pulled back at the gala?” It takes a moment for your brain to process his question, having expected him to say how sorry he was. You don’t have time to even speak before he’s talking again. “I bring you to meet my colleagues, some of the most influential men in this city, and you decide that’s the proper time to get snarky with me?”

“Excuse me?” You turn your head slowly, not wanting to say something you’ll regret. “Oh, did I embarrass you?”

He nods as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Do you know what they said to me after you ripped away and glared at them?”

“Probably nothing because they were too busy staring at my ass.” You fire back, taking pride in how his jaw clenches. “Or were they congratulating you on landing a fine date for tonight’s event, just another in a long list of Duncan Shepherd’s call girls?”

You know it’s a low blow, since he’s been entirely committed to you since you first began dating, but his buddies don’t seem to know that he’s in a long-term relationship.

“But you were my date tonight! I brought you with me!” He argues.

“It’s not about that!” You quickly lower your voice, noticing Duncan’s driver glimpsing in the rearview mirror. “How many fucking times have you seen those jerks over the past year? And this is the first time you’re deciding to mention me, when you can finally show me off to them as some sort of symbol to your success?”

“You’re more than that to me, you know that.”

“But to everybody else, I’m just a notch in your belt?” The car rolls to a stop in front of your apartment, and you’re out before Duncan can even reach for you. You’re thankful that you shed your heels in the car, allowing you up the steps quicker than it would have been had you been teetering on those shoes. You don’t look behind you, furiously smashing the button on the elevator in an attempt to get it closed, but when Duncan’s foot stops the doors from closing, you know you’re screwed.

“You don’t just leave like that.” He hisses, backing you against the wall. You briefly notice that he still took the time to grab your shoes and bag, which would make you grateful if you weren’t so pissed at him.

“You don’t get to order me around like that.” You’re in his face, and you can smell the intoxicating scent of liquor and his cologne lingering on him.

“I’m sorry for calling you a date. That was wrong, and next time I’ll refer to you as my girlfriend.” He holds his arms out, as if this is some grand compromise that he’s so kind to offer you. You scoff, leaning your head back against the wall.

“You’re so fucking dense, Duncan.” The doors ding for your floor, and you shove past him to get out.

“What, then? What else could I have possibly done wrong for you to be this pissed at me?” He yells, making you really hope that the neighbors are all out. You shake your head in disbelief, quickly unlocking the door so you don’t make a scene in the middle of the hallway. The door slams behind him and you whip around to look at him.

“Hey, what is wrong with you?” He grabs your chin in his hand, forcing you to make eye contact.

“I’m not your little trophy wife, Duncan!” The air is thick with tension as you both take deep, shuddering breaths.

“What?” Duncan asks quietly.

“I am not some side piece you get to parade around for the good ol’ boys to ogle at and congratulate you for. If you wanted one of those, you should have fucked one of the Republican senators’ daughters your mom always tried to set you up with!” You scream, snatching Duncan’s hand so he no longer has your face in his control. Duncan’s face goes white with shock, and you smirk at leaving the cocky man speechless.

You try to move past him to get to the door, determined to go somewhere that’s not here, when Duncan grips both of your arms. You let out a yell of surprise and attempt to wiggle out of his grasp.

“Let me go!” You start slapping at his chest, trying to get him to release you, but he just pulls you tighter. You glare at him, trying to get him to react. You’re looking for a fight right now, and the fact that he won’t give in is just adding to your anger. “Do something, huh?”

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, studying you for a moment, before his hand tangles into your hair.

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.” He moans out, using the hand in your hair to pull you towards him in a searing kiss. Your hands still as you let out a noise of shock, not sure what to make of the turn this fight has taken. You find yourself eagerly kissing back, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling Duncan closer to you.

He grabs at your knee, ripping a hole in your pantyhose as he yanks your leg around his hip. You don’t even make it to the bedroom, Duncan settling you against the arm of the couch. You bite at his bottom lip roughly, making him groan in a mix of pleasure and pain. His hands fumble with the zipper on your dress, making you yelp when a strand of hair gets caught in the zipper.

You shed Duncan of his jacket and make quick work of unbuttoning the shirt underneath while he throws your bra across the room. When he reaches your legs, he chooses to just rip the pantyhose off of you, causing you to wince at the snap they make against your body.

“God dammit Duncan, why’d you have to ruin them?” Your sentence ends in a whine when he presses his clothed erection against your core, back arching against the couch.

“I’ll buy you more. I’ll buy you a whole new wardrobe if that’s what it takes.” You know he doesn’t just mean to replace the destroyed article of clothing. He’s managed to shed his trousers now, not wasting any time before he presses into you.

The rhythm is hard and fast, Duncan choosing to take his anger out on you through sex. Your teeth clack against his almost painfully as you try to find some sort of dominance in this game, moaning loudly when he adjusts you so he can hit deeper.

“God, I really hate you right now!” You groan out, your nails raking along his back as his stubble creates a sensual burn on your neck.

“Your mouth says one thing but your body says another.” He quips with a cheeky smile, reaching between you to reach your clit. You yank at his hair, causing him to let out a low moan while you grin in triumph.

Duncan’s fucking into you so hard that the couch is starting to move with each thrust, the only resistance being the rug underneath it. Even with the rough actions from both of you, you want more, need more, so you grab his hand and move it to your throat. He smirks at you, but obliges nevertheless, laying pressure on your throat he he kisses you again.

“You’re so perfect, I love you so much.” He mutters against your mouth when you clench around him. You wrap both legs around him, pulling him closer in an attempt to match his thrusts. Duncan’s hands fall to your waist as his thrusts lose their rhythm the closer he gets. Even though this is heated, hateful sex, he still makes sure you finish first. When you yell out his name, clenching almost painfully around him, he moans against your neck as he stills.

You’re both breathing heavily, chests heaving from the exertion, when Duncan slides you both to the floor before rolling off of you. When he goes to stroke your face he stops abruptly.

“Why are you crying?” He asks softly.

“I’m not?” You say, shocked when Duncan wipes away tears you didn’t know were falling.

“Shit, was the choking too much? Did I hurt you?” He pulls you into his arms, and you’re so spent that you let him.

“No, I’m just...I’m mad at you and I’m sad and I don’t even know why I started crying.” You ramble, choking up even more. “This’ll be a good story to tell your friends, that you fucked your date so good that she started crying.” You laugh shakily, trying anything to get the attention off of the waterworks you’re suddenly displaying. Duncan’s breath hitches as he looks at you.

“Shit.” He says, the figurative light bulb clicking on. “I don’t-I would never about our personal life to those guys, I want you to know that.”

“Duncan, you stood with them laughing as they belittled me and made me out to be some sort of whore.” He blanches, remembering the encounter.

“Oh fuck, oh my God, I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” There’s no stopping the tears now as he holds you to his chest, whispering his apologies in your ear.

“I’m a good lawyer.” You mutter to yourself, but Duncan hears anyways.

“You’re such a good lawyer, baby. They’re just stupid guys who didn’t know that the embezzlement charges were dropped a while ago.”

“I’ve-I’ve worked so hard all through college and law school to be taken seriously as a woman in this field, and I still get reduced to nothing more than the person standing next to Duncan Shepherd.” You’ve talked numerous times about your struggles with the rampant sexism you face in the working world. Duncan knows that he’s extremely privileged to be handed the keys to his own empire without having to lift a finger, while you had to work your ass off to even pay for school.

“You’re so much more than that, do you hear me? You are not just my girlfriend. That title is so far down the list of amazing things you are, it’s probably just a footnote on your long list of accomplishments.”

“Why did you let them talk to me like that?” You whimper, watching Duncan’s heart break as he stares at you.

“I’m so, so sorry baby. I promise that I’m gonna make this up to you.” He wraps you in a blanket that he grabs from the couch when he notices that you’re shivering. Standing up with you in his arms, he sets you down on the bed before going to grab a washcloth from the bathroom.

“I’m gonna make sure that their money doesn’t touch our app, we have funding from lots of other places. I’m replacing whatever it is I tore off of you out there-” You chuckle, wincing slightly when Duncan starts cleaning you with the cool cloth.

“You don’t have to, it was ju-” He cuts you off with a stern look.

“I will. And then we’re going to actually go out and celebrate when you win your trial next week. I’m not just going to send you expensive gifts and apologize that I’m working late.” The washcloth goes into the hamper as Duncan slides into bed next to you. “I’m going to make more of an effort to be the partner you deserve, and I’ll put the company’s money into that bill you were talking about with your friend.”

“I didn’t think you even knew what I was talking about.” You say.

“I ignored you, which was terrible of me. And every time I have to introduce you to people, you’ll be ‘(Y/N) (Y/L/N), the best lawyer I’ve ever met.’”

“And your girlfriend?” You tease, Duncan nodding and kissing you.

“And my girlfriend.” He laces his fingers with yours. “And hopefully then you’ll start to consider forgiving me?” You smile slightly, shaking your head.

“I love you, Dunc.”

“I love you too, so much. I really don’t deserve you.”

“I mean…” You trail off, laughing when Duncan affectionately tickles you before pulling you towards him so you can sleep. Although the living room looks like a minor warzone and there’s mascara tracked down your face, you’re able to sleep peacefully with Duncan by your side.

[redwoodoriginalfirstnine]

Cop Car [Jax Teller]

Chapter One

Ratings: SFW

Warnings: No majors for now, some mild cursing.

Summary: Opie’s twin sister happily comes back to Charming in order to help him and Donna out once he’s released from prison. Even though her relationship with Opie has always been tight, her relationship with Piney and her mother is as strained as always. So between wanting to find her place again in Charming and patching up her family ties a little bit of love gets tossed her way by the one and only Jax Teller.

——

After what feels like an eternity later, [Y/N] finally disembarks from the plane and slowly makes her way into the terminal and over to the baggage carousel. Her [e/c] eyes watch as each piece of baggage slowly winds its way down and around the baggage claim area until her very identifiable bag miraculously appears on the conveyor belt. As her luggage inches closer and closer [Y/N] gently elbows her way into the crowd that’s gathered and the moment it gets within reach she grabs it and hauls ass as far away as possible. The closer she gets to the exit of the airport a familiar face comes into view and she’s forced to stop short and examine him and the piece of cardboard he’s holding with her last name on it.

“Juice?” [Y/N] mutters to herself as he finally notices that she’s standing a few feet away from him. Unsure if she’s seen him or not, Juice throws his arm up in the air and begins to wave it around wildly in hopes of catching her attention. In order to keep from drawing too much attention from the crowds around them she cautiously waves back at him before walking over to where he’s standing.

“Here let me take that for you.” Juice states as he pries her luggage from her hands, “Opie wanted to be here to pick you up, but you know, club business and all.”

“Wait, he’s back working with the club? Thanks by the way.” [Y/N] replies as she’s lead from the airport to a nearby parking lot where Juice helps her into an older model sedan that’s from the shop. She watches as Juice closes the trunk and climbs into the driver's seat waiting desperately for him to answer her previous question.

“Yeah, he uh, he didn’t tell you?” Juice questions as he puts the key in the ignition and starts the car, he glances over at her before putting the car in reverse, “I guess not by the look that’s on your face.”

“Your assumption would be correct.” [Y/N] replies as Juice backs the car out of the parking spot and puts it in drive. The start of the drive is in silence, but as they ease onto the interstate [Y/N] leans forward and turns on the radio to hopefully break some of the tension that’s settled between the two of them. By the time Juice comes to a stop at one of the few stop signs in Charming, [Y/N] is in a much happier mood which entices her to at least apologize for being so uptight.

For a couple of seconds she fiddles with the zipper on her jacket while trying to form the correct words, but they eventually just slip out, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rude Juice. Opie and I usually talk about everything, but things have been a little rocky here lately and it took me this long just to get him to agree to have me come out.”

Juice flips the blinker on and pulls into the parking lot of Teller-Morrow garage, “It’s all good, I never thought you were being rude. I just assumed and you know what they say about making assumptions.”

[Y/N] snorts while shooting him a friendly smile, “Like the haircut by the way, suits you. Plus it’s always nice to see your ink.” A hint of red settles into the tips of his ears and he averts his gaze as the compliment finally registers with him. Juice pulls the car into an empty parking spot and shuts it off, before [Y/N] can even get her seatbelt off the passenger side door is yanked open and she’s engulfed in a very uncomfortable bear hug.

“Thank god you’re finally here!” Gemma squeals as she pulls herself away to look [Y/N] in the face, “I have been counting down the days and wanted to go pick you up myself.”

“It’s good to see you to Ma.” [Y/N] replies with a soft chuckle before pressing a chaste kiss on her cheek. Gemma smiles and steps back away from the car in order for [Y/N] to climb out and stretch her legs and back. She glances over the roof of the car to where a row of motorcycles are parked close to the clubhouse hoping to find Opies parked there but alas it and a couple of others are missing from the lineup.

“He’ll be back shortly, Jax has him and Tiggy running a couple of errands.” Gemma states once she realizes what [Y/N] is staring at.

“Dad?” [Y/N] questions as Juice pops the trunk so that she can retrieve her luggage.

“Still kicking,” Gemma replies with a chuckle, “he’s around here somewhere, I’m not really sure if Opie told Piney that you were coming home to help out.”

“Most likely not, but either way it’ll be a grand ole surprise.” she replies while slamming the trunk lid shut before turning to Juice, “how shall I tip you good sir?”

Juice thinks on it for a few seconds while fiddling with the car keys before replying, “A thrilling round of mini golf?”

“Deal.” [Y/N] replies with a smile before the three of them start to walk towards the clubhouse.

“I’ve got you set up in one of the cleaner apartments in the back, I hope that’s okay.” Gemma states as she opens the door for [Y/N] and Juice. [Y/N] nods in response as she walks past Gemma and into the air conditioned clubhouse half expecting to see most of the guys passed out with a crow eater hanging off of them or passed out next to them.

Instead she finds the place cleaned from top to bottom and several of the guys sitting around a table playing what appears to be a very thrilling game of poker. The sound of the door closing behind Juice catches the group's attention and they stop what they’re doing and look over at the three of them.

“Holy shit.” Jax mumbles as he pushes himself away from the table he’s sitting at as a huge grin breaks out across his face.

“Jax-fucking-Teller, come over here and give me a hug!” [Y/N] exclaims loudly which gets Jax moving so fast that he knocks over his chair as he sprints around the table. She doesn’t wait for Jax to get to her she drops her bag and meets him halfway, she wraps him in her arms and he does the same but he also lifts her up and spins her around.

“Opie could have at least given me a heads up!” Jax states as he sets her back down on the ground.

“Did he really not tell anyone except Gemma?” [Y/N] questions as she pulls away from Jax to look at him and then at the rest of the guys who are now making their way over to where they’re standing. Each of the guys shake their heads no which surprises [Y/N], but seems like something Opie would do just for kicks. As she pulls away from Jax each of the guys take turns wrapping her in a bear hug before returning her to Jax’s waiting arms.

“What’s all the hub-bub about?” Piney asks as he slowly emerges from the depths of the clubhouse. The group parts so that Piney can clearly see [Y/N] standing there amongst everyone, from where she’s standing she can see a range of emotions pass over his face with the final one settling on confusion.

It takes her a moment but [Y/N] finally breaks the silence, “Hey daddy.”

“Hey sweetheart, w-what are you doing here?” Piney questions as he crosses the floor so that he’s standing a little bit closer, “did your mom call you out here?”

“No, I came to help Opie out, but the main reason I came is to see everyone.” [Y/N] replies just as a cell phone starts ringing signaling the end of the welcome party. She looks around to see Jax pull out a burner phone and answer it before excusing himself from the group for a little more privacy. The rest of the group also bid their farewells and followed Jax out of the clubhouse leaving [Y/N] with Piney and Gemma.

“It’s so good to see you sweetheart, but um..” Piney states as his eyes cut over to the door making it clear that his mind is elsewhere at the moment.

“Go ahead, I’ll be around.” [Y/N] replies as she licks her lips anxiously and stuffs her hands in her pockets, “Gemma has me set up in one of the apartments so I’ll be around when you want to catch up.”

“Right.” Piney states before awkwardly shuffling away from her and then out the door where the rest of the guys went. [Y/N] inhales sharply and grinds her teeth together out of frustration, but all of that is soon brushed away when Gemma steps up and wraps a loving arm around her shoulders.

“How about we get you settled in and we’ll sit down and decide what to eat tonight yeah?” Gemma asks with a small smile to which [Y/N] nods excitedly.

“That sounds fucking fantastic.” [Y/N] states as she doubles back to pick up her luggage before being led to the apartment that Gemma had revamped for her. She happily drops her bag on the bed and unzips it allowing the lid to pop open and few parcels of clothing to come flying out into the air.

“Packed for a long stay did we?” Gemma questions as she starts to pull a few things out and put them into appropriate drawers of the dresser.

[Y/N] sighs heavily as she toys with a pair of socks, “Gonna be honest with you Gemma before flying out here I packed up my entire apartment and put it into storage. If everything works out and the right pieces fall into place I’m going to have a close friend ship the rest of my stuff out here. I-I think it’s time for me to officially return to Charming.”

“Well in that case, I hope everything works out for you baby. I think everyone around here could benefit from having you home for awhile.” Gemma replies as the bedroom door opens to reveal a happy looking Clay.

“Welcome home [Y/N].” Clay states as he walks into the room and wraps an arm around Gemma’s shoulders, “I hope this suits your needs until you’re ready to set up something permanent.”

“This is perfect for now, thanks for letting me crash here I couldn’t just overcrowd Opie and there’s no way in hell I'm going to stay at the family house.” [Y/N] replies with a soft smile, “and I couldn’t trouble the two of you even though Gemma did try her hardest.”

“Well anytime you get bored of this place we do have plenty of spare rooms.” Clay states while digging around in his pocket and after a couple of seconds he pulls out a set of keys, “these are for you, they’re for the gate, front door and a spare for your room.”

“Thanks a bunch,” [Y/N] states as she accepts the keys from Clay, “now, let's talk food cause i’m starving.” Clay excuses himself mentioning something about taking care of business and that he’d see Gemma at the house later that night. As [Y/N] and Gemma exit the clubhouse it's hard not to notice that most of the motorcycles have cleared out and that the only ones left belong to Clay and Jax. Gemma decides to drive to a well known local diner that [Y/N] in truth has missed oh so much and once they’re tucked away in a booth she starts to feel more and more at home. After eating their way through an appetizer, a main course and desert the two of them decide to call it a night and Gemma drops [Y/N] back off at the clubhouse before heading home herself. As she enters the clubhouse she’s greeted by a few of the guys who are sitting around outside drinking a few beers before calling it a night.

She waves to them and bid them goodnight before slipping past them and to her room ready for some sleep since the jetlag is finally catching up to her. The moment the door shuts behind her she locks the door and strips down into her panties so that she can pull on a sleep shirt and climb into bed. Without hesitation she pushes the rest of her luggage off her bed and climbs in completely ignoring the light blaring above her head and the low grumble of music coming from the front of the clubhouse.

Just as she drifts off to sleep her phone chimes loudly and as much as she wants to ignore it, she just can’t. Cracking an eye open she hits the home button and finds a text from Opie that says: sorry I couldn’t be part of the welcoming party, make it up to you with breakfast in the morning. Sweet dreams.

[Y/N] chuckles softly before closing out the message and dropping the phone on the floor next to the bed where she leaves it until the next morning.