#not every woman is attracted to every man she meets

[adelacreations]

The takes i had seen on Twitter like DEADASS I WAS LIKE, "How are some of yall genuinely this stupid?"

And they call Billy lovers misogynists, THE MISOGYN JUMPED OUT WITH THEM

Not the “Billy Hargrove is homophobic, despite being one of the few characters to be called a homophobic slur and displaying no bias against queer people” fans accusing a Stranger Things book of queer erasure for possibly giving Eddie Munson a female love interest.

[itspileofgoodthings]

.

[tonycries]

Madam Zenin - T.F.

Synopsis. There’s nothing that rouses Toji, the infamous head of the Zenin clan, nothing that will make him lose control - until they take what’s most important to him. You.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, arranged marriage, clan leader! Toji, kídnapping, the elders súck, Toji goes INSANE, BRÉEDING, talks of an heir, oraI (fem), fíngering, Toji’s powers, FÉRAL Toji, créampie, spítting, overstím, AU if Toji didn’t leave the clan, slight misogyny from Naoya, slight bIood, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 6.2k

A/N. Didn’t realize how much clan leader!Toji made me quake so…Hope y’all have a good day <3

“Who took her?”

“M-master?”

There wasn’t a single individual in the Zenin Estate that didn’t think Toji Zenin wouldn’t kill them in the blink of an eye. Happily, at that. 

It was rumored he was cursed, ruthless. And out of everyone - elders, servants, children - not one didn’t look over their shoulder behind every corner of the sprawling Zenin house, flinching at his mere shadow. Broad, towering, wrenching out nothing but hushed apologies and deep bows - they never dared to look into his devastating eyes. 

And right now, that pale-faced attendant of yours could only tremble - pray - she won’t be next on Toji’s long, long list of victims when the looming man himself bends to meet her lowered gaze. And oh-

Fuck. 

No one ever saw the vicious head of the Zenin clan smile - no one. 

Except you.

And here he had the most dangerous grin gracing his features, darkened olive eyes wide - crazed, when they halt on that slightest drop of red sinking into the tatami mats.

“My wife.” The other woman jumps when he loudly kicks your chamber door open. Abruptly barking out a deep, humorless laugh at the disheveled emptiness inside, “Who took my wife?”

---

Young master Zenin - Toji Zenin. Your husband.

It’s only been a few months since your stiff, lavish wedding ceremony to him - part of an arranged deal made between his clan and your own. Your parents practically leapt at the chance to marry into such an esteemed jujutsu name, forgetting all those dark rumors swirling around the young head at the first golden glint of the Zenin family’s massive treasury.  

Sure, they promised to treat you well, to prime you into becoming the new madam of their distinguished household. But you knew better - it wasn’t your upbringing or your cursed technique that brought you here, they couldn’t care less - no, it was because of an heir. 

The one thing that the Zenin family didn’t have. 

And the one thing Toji Zenin refused to give them.

That much was obvious when just minutes after exchanging vows and the ceremonial sake, a group of todgering elders had thrust a heady antidote for conception into your hands, smiling smugly as if they’d just given you the wedding gift of the century. Of course, your all-new husband didn’t even look at you properly on your wedding night - opting instead for a short, husky goodnight and to sleep in a separate bedroom down the hall from the newly-weds’ chamber. 

He wasn’t a cruel husband, you think, and he was attractive - painfully so - and felt more like a gruff acquaintance than anything. But the only problem was that he didn’t embrace you, not even a fleeting kiss.

Even when you really wanted Toji to.

“-T-Toji?” you’re breathing shallowly, eyes blinking up hazily at the dim lighting. It comes out small, cracking so pathetically at the end.

“---Toji--even----”

“No use--- had--months---”

“---keep her to myself--”

Instantly, you’re sitting upright in a cold, wooden chair. Heart thumping wildly against the ribs of your body, it bangs at the thickly digging rope wrapping around your body.

Shit shit shit - where were you? The last thing you remembered was chatting with your attendant in your room, and she’d handed you a brand-new perfume to smell- Fuck. Where was-

“Ah, you’re awake.” There’s a high, sing-song voice from somewhere on your right, and your blood runs chillingly cold when you recognize that voice. “Honestly, I hoped you wouldn’t be around for this part but-” Naoya Zenin claps his hands to get the attention of every other elder hunched around the traditional Japanese room. “-that just makes it all the more fun, right?”

With the one tiny lantern being lit overhead, you could make out those scraggly smiles, the sharp glint of the Zenin Clan’s famed katanas. A tear stumbles down your trembling cheek, tasting salty on your lips.

“Aww, not the tears.” Naoya guffaws, “You know m’not good with the tears.” Those ropes pinning your hands behind your back rub raw with your frantic movement, creaking and unstirring despite your best efforts. “Try and try all you want, sweetcheeks, but a failure of the Zenin clan will only be met with the appropriate consequences.”

A failure.

The words would’ve cut deep had they not been the very same ones spat at you at every clan meeting - the exact reason you didn’t accompany Toji to the one today. Toji, you think. Fuck, how you wished you’d have gone just this one time. 

Straightening your spine the best you could in this binding chair, you ask - firm, pretending for all the world to be as confident as you’re not. “What do you want from me?”

It’s as if your question is the biggest joke that every scowling man in this room had heard, and they all burst into wheezing, riotous laughter. Some even slapping their knees - even Naoya gives you a cold, leeringly gleeful grin, “Just as mouthy as he is, huh?” He turns back to the elders, “She’s asking what we want!”

You bristle at another bout of cackles, struggling to hiss out a strangled, “Well- well if you bastards just fucking told me-”

“An heir.” 

Fuck, you had a feeling it was this.

“What? You pussies get your rocks off by wondering about mine and Toji’s sex life?” you let out shrill laughter, mouth moving before your brain because fuck, if it was all going to end now, might as well spew out everything you’ve wanted to since you walked in here. You shake your woozy head, “Oh fuckin’ grow up, if the man himself wanted an heir then you’d know-”

Eyes enraged, he takes a heated step towards you, “You little-”

“Naoya.” The strained drawl of an elder you’d seen around the corridors stops him straight in his tracks, and Naoya gives the man a hasty, reluctant bow. “Finish it. Before he gets back.”

Those last few words splatter a few drops of panic into your words, and a few more exhausted tears stream down your face. 

“Heh, whatever.” he’s taking one last greedy lookover down your rattling figure. “Would’ve taken y’for myself if I didn’t think he’d kill me, sweetcheeks. What a shame.” Trailing off airily, he turns back towards where you spot another spiking glisten in the dark, a metallic twang! rings through the thick, musty atmosphere. “Who knows, maybe his next wife will actually listen to a thing or two.”

Next wife. 

You’re not sure why but the thought made your heart clench. And you’re gasping when he turns back around - silver katana in hand - trying to scream, yell, anything for help. But no sound comes out. 

Instead, all you can do is gape when Naoya crowds in menacingly closer, you can just hear the smile in his voice when he coos mockingly, “You’re much better when you shut up, doll.” You press your lips tightly together at the same, sullied use of Toji’s nickname for you - wondering how he would react to all of this. Wincing at the cutting whoosh! of the katana being raised up, up, up- “Any last wo-”

BANG!

You’re grimacing at the loud crashing of wood and panels, sliding doors ripped to shreds. And in the hazy cloud of dust you could make out the outline of a tall, heaving figure. Big arms swaying with his choppy breaths, he’s standing still - dangerous.

And even in the soft darkness, your unblinking gaze caught on his gleaming, feral smile, sharp canines bared like some beast. Eyes carnivorous, widened as he assesses the room like a predator lurking in on its prey.

The drop of fear hits you before the realization - Toji.

Letting out a strangled yelp, “T-Toj- mmpf!” Before cold, wrinkly fingers come up from behind to cover your mouth. But even the slightest sound of your voice has Toji’s form jolting - fingers twitching on the handle of his blade, like electricity zapped through his entire body, and you can hear the elder behind you take in an obvious gasp when his eyes lock onto the two of you. 

Finally. 

Toji’s lips part silently, and abruptly, you’re being let go of as if you burned. “You.” 

It happens so fast that you’re not even sure you imagined it, in a split-second, the long, jagged dagger in Toji’s hand is being flung right at his shivering target. . 

And you knew he won’t miss - he never will, because you’re not even blinking when a drawn-out groan of pain echoes from behind you. Followed by an echoing thud!

“My wife.” Toji’s rasping baritone sends goosebumps racing down your spine, you’re puffing in a quick inhale at just how close he sounds. Sure enough, when you look up, you’re met with softened sage eyes, and crooked beginnings of a smile. “My wife.” he breathes out, as if he still couldn’t really believe it. But any and all tenderness in his body bleeds away when Toji abruptly looks over his shoulder at the men crowding around the entrance with a thunderous glare, “Next.”

Naoya is the first to dare to speak - to even move. Yelling, “Y-y- do you even know who that- the crime it is to kill one of the elders-”

Fuck, you swear Toji looked elated at that, that savage grin still plastered on his face, he grits through clenched teeth, “Next.” 

Next. Next. Next. Next. 

It’s all that kept being laughed - laughed - out when Naoya activated his own cursed technique, absolutely nothing against Toji’s rampant ravaging. The thrum of jujutsu makes your head throb, and Toji’s steps sound deafening. Pressurized lunges towards the man himself, and before he can think - before he can even breathe - Naoya’s being pinned face-down on the tatami floor. Face stinging with the force of the stronger man’s foot on his head, pressing it underneath his wooden sandals. He speaks softly - as if talking down to a child - over the strained pop! pop! pop! of joints. “For taking my wife, for insulting the very soul of my soul.”

Toji wasn’t done, he wasn’t even stopping. He was out of control. Ready to kill. To break. 

And none of the elders could do anything - in fact, they fall fatally still onto their knees at Toji’s growing smile, the slow turn of his head. All knowing they were on the very brink of death himself. “Who’s next?”

Fatigue and relief hits you like a semi-truck - five of them, in fact. And you can feel your body drooping lower, vision tinging with black at the corners. Over the grotesque crunching of limbs, you think you could hear a faint, gruff laughter of, “Yeah, ya might wanna sleep this one out, doll.”

---

Toji never wanted to let you out of his sight. Never. 

And with you so vulnerable like this - dozing off gently on his silken bedsheets, body curling subconsciously into his benevolent hold - he thinks he never will.

Mellow, rounded tips of his thick fingers glide down your skin, sensitive from the hot water and the way he’d washed away every evidence of the blood and pain from just a few hours before. 

“I’m sorry.” Toji breathes, hushed, a thumb gliding away a stray droplet of water on the apple of your cheek. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” He connects his forehead with your damp one, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m sorry. If I hadn’t come to see you early from the meeting- just knew something felt wrong.”

“Sorry for what, Toji?”

Your teasing tone of voice shocks him to his very core, and yet he can’t find it in himself to pull away - fuck, he can’t even dare open his eyes to look. “All of it.” he’s spitting out, tormentingly.

It takes you a while to find the words, “It’s- it’s not your fault.” you nod, a wet hand coming up to comb through Toji’s soft black tresses. “It’s neither of ours.”

There’s a few seconds of silence, in which he’s scrubbing non-existent beads of water off of you. Long strokes - slow, and purposeful - and you have to hold back your sudden yelp when it hits you that this was the first time that he saw you naked.

“But-” he falters, shaking his head - before thinking better of it. And you take the moment to appreciate just how gorgeous he is up close, every spike of pink in his worried lips, dark lashes kissing his high cheekbones. “But it’s over now, you can- you can go back to your clan.” he grimaces, still looking like he wanted to rip something - someone - apart. “The Zenin family is done.”

Done. 

“Toji.” you exhale, luring in your face so close to your husband’s. Too close. “Come with me. Fuck this Estate, fuck having an heir- and fuck the elders, if they’re not dead by now anyway.” They were - every single one - bodies piled high in the same room you were carried tenderly out of, you find out later. You steady onto your elbows on that unfamiliar mattress - Toji’s, you distinctly realize. And his brows crinkle upwards into an expression you’ve never seen on him before.

“I…”

“And-” A hand of yours wraps around his throat, nails digging into the racing pulse of his at the side of his milky neck. “-kiss me.”

Then he’s raising his eyes to look at you and fuck-

You were fucked. 

You might as well have just signed away your own will because here was the man that was covered in blood not too long ago, here he was with his lids hooded, pupils blown. “My wife.” he repeats that same mantra from before, lips parting like something so dark, visceral, was poked dangerously awake. Like he couldn’t quite believe it. His eyes flicker in a lingering triangle across both of your eyes, your lips. Just a hair’s breadth away. Straining out a raspy, “Oh fuck.”

Depraved - Toji’s lips are so depraved . And he’s drinking you in like all his bloodthirst from before had liquidated into pure need. 

You’re mewling when a large palm brushes over to cup your cheek, tilting that pretty head of yours to deepen the kiss. “Toji.”

You shouldn’t have done that - oh, you shouldn’t have done that. Because the sound of his own name in your syrupy sweet tone makes him jolt. Jolt. His entire body rumbles with a deep, wrenched-out growl, followed very closely by a loud slam! of Toji’s fist banging down on the nearby bedside table. Only later will you find that perfectly indented hole in the shape of his hand, splinters scattered across the floor. 

Like wanted to keep in control - needed to keep in control. But was failing - miserably. 

“F-fuuuuck-” he draws out huskily into your mouth, that tiny scar always at the corner of his mouth catching on your lower lip when he takes it between his. Sucking on that slick-glossed seam harshly, it almost hurt - but it hurt so good. “You have no idea- absolutely no fuckin’ idea how much I’ve wanted to do this.”

And suddenly you’re so painfully aware of the way your robe hadn’t been tied up properly, feeling the cinch of your sensitive nipples against his rich yukata, the warmth of all five of his long fingers splaying out just below the curve of your tits. 

You can feel his needy hips rutting into yours - such raw strength in the way he holds your own still so easily. Pushing right into the bullseye between your legs with the outline of his massive, heated bulge. Languid, delicious drags.

“Fuck we shouldn’t-” he cries out when you’re reeling him back in with his plump lip tucked beneath your teeth. “You need to-” Before he’s being tugged back in again. And again. And again and again like one taste of your candied lips and he was addicted. Barely able to choke out a single syllable before mashing them back onto yours. Gruffing out a deep rumble from the depths of his sculpted chest, “Shit- y’know why I didn’t do this sooner? Why I didn’t just fuck you right then and there in front of hngh- everyone whenever I wanted to? Because I knew-”

He cuts himself off with a convulsing shudder, pulling away just enough that you whine disappointedly. “I was gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

“Couldn’t- hngh-” you’re mewling at the delicate little strings of syrupy spit snapping. Spying down at the way his yukata was disheveled now, displaying such delicious panes of warm skin for you. “Couldn’t have guessed.”

Toji’s brows raise at your slightly bratty tone, lips curling into such a sinful smirk that it makes your cunt throb so hotly, despite the slowly cooling water. His eyes darken - as if something snapped. “Oh- you’re gonna fucking regret that, ma.”

And something did -  maybe his whatever restraint he had left, probably you by the end of this.

In an instant, you’re seeing a flash of that man- that monster from before. Baring you the most vicious grin inhumanly possible, if you didn’t know any better you’d have wondered how high the death count would be. The hundreds? The thousands?

He’s worshiping down your body like an apology for all that transpired before, hot, wet brandings of his mouth across each and every inch of skin he could reach. It made you whimper, it made you feel the powerful hum of his strength at his fingertips, it made you need more more more-

All you can let out is a drawling moan when he unapologetically snaps! the hem of your panties onto your heated skin, “Don’t be such a t-tease.”

Oh, you were so weak against the dark head of the Zenin clan, against the way he circles his two hands around your ankles. Easily pulling - hauling you across the plush mattress like some ragdoll. 

Not even hesitating before ripping your poor yukata off your body, until you’re left spread so shamefully underneath him, Toji knocking down hard onto his knees before you. 

“Well- whatever my wife wants…” the same dangerous grin grows along his face, glinting white teeth bared where they held your flimsy excuse of panties between honed canines. He murmurs the final few words hovering over where you needed him the most,  “...no elder or god themself could stop me from giving you.” 

RIP—! 

It’s the last thing breathed out of his heaving lungs before your poor underwear is being torn off of you by his very mouth, not wasting a moment before spitting them out, and burying his face between your trembly thighs. Not even taking in one last gulp of air, not even thinking because all Toji Zenin knew was that he was going to fucking die if he didn’t taste your sweet sweet cunt right now. 

“Oh f-fuck-” he’s musing, sharp tongue stuttering for once in his life. “Fuck fuck fuck- fuck-” You’re yelping when your jelly-like legs are pliantly thrown over Toji’s broad shoulders, digging into the muscles of his deltoids. “Can’t believe you’ve been-” He trails off so deliriously, planting a hot, thick glob of spit on your spread pussy lips once. Twice. Smearing that glistening coat along your puffy folds with the fat of his thumb, “-been holdin’ out on me like this.”

“Shit- s’too much.” you’re whining at the slippery gloss of the mess he’s made down below leaking down your slit. Threading your fingers through his silky locks, “I wasn’t holding out on anything, y’know-”

His wide-eyed gaze was locked on your sloppily winking hole, circling the rim of that needy ring of muscle with his pointed index. “God…” his hot breath fans your dripping cunt, “You might just be my god. Didn’t wanna bring a kid into this family but you’re so- so sweet m’thinking it might not be too bad.”

Those words are barely even registered in your mind before his pretty pink lips wrap themselves around your throbbing clit. Handsome cheekbones hollowing, droopy eyes rolling to the back of his head when Toji sucks. Whirling his tongue erratically around the sensitive nub, such lewd little squelches ring in your ears. 

“T-Toji—” your purring moans only make him bury his face even deeper, nose pressing up against the edge of your sopping slit. And each thorough drag of your slobbering cunt down his face makes you knock against the end of his chin, so thirsty with the way he was making out with your cunt. Like he couldn’t get enough - never will. “Y-you were the one-” the heels of your feet move up higher to loop at his neck. “-holding out.”

And you knew that Toji the strongest of his clan - you knew it took more than a mere, barely-lucid tug to have him clashing even deeper into your pussy. 

But he does for you anyway. 

“Fuck- fuck you little-” Toji’s own heavy tongue betrays him with a throaty moan, and he looks so furious. Seething at the way he was pussydrunk already. Greedy gaze so crazed that you’re back to wondering how high the kill count would be- would they all even fit on the Zenin Estate? “-f tha’s what you fuckin’ want.”

“Wha- oh!” you yelp at the sheer burning stretch of your legs being pushed up, up, up until your knees were knocking against your tits. And Toji takes the shamefully spread opportunity to bully one rummaging finger past your swollen folds. “Oh fuck- you’re reaching so- so-”

“Finish it.”

It takes you a second to realize that Toji’s addressing you, his tone so jagged. Words muffled when he pants them out into your weeping cunt. 

He’s pulling out his finger - intentionally curving exactly against all those sweet spots mushed into your velvety walls - only to brand your poor clit with a sharp smack! “Finish that fucking sentence, ma.”

“-deep!” your hips are bucking up at another hefty intrusion, Toji’s fingers relentless inside your elastic wall. Molding out your insides to memorize every bump of his knuckles, every neat curve of his short fingernails. “So so- deep, Toji.” you whine, your shaky hands coming to rest at where you could feel him pumping in and out feverishly into hidden nooks and crannies of your sopping cunt. “C-can feel you right- here!”

This earns you another smack! gifted once again on your awaiting clit, but any and all irritation is swept away when he’s clashing his lips with yours down below in such a messy kiss. Meshing around the bulge of his own large fingers, tongue rolling placatingly over your glisteningly ravaged clit. Flicking, “Yeah- definitely my kind of fucking goddess.” His own free hand dances up to rest about midway up your stomach, pressing down. “M’gonna be in even deeper soon, y’know. Trust me.”

It’s at this moment that Toji’s exploratory fingers find their greedy way to your bulbous g-spot, immediately crashing into it - hard. 

There. There there there, you want to say - but you don’t have to, because he could tell. Could feel the vice-like grip of your slicked walls, the way it’s almost difficult to hammer back into your cunt. 

“Yeah yeah I got it-” he’s humming cockily, back to dragging his lips all over your clit senselessly all over. “All you hafta to do is- hah-” He’s being cut off by his own ravenous thirst, slurping mouth grinding even faster into your pretty pussy. And all you can hear are those syrupy squelches and the smacking of Toji’s mouth, your whining ah! ah! ah! following with every push of his fingers forming around your gummy walls. Curling deftly to massage all your sweetest spots he’s already mapped out so scarily well. “-ahh fuck- can’t get enough. Would kill them all over again just for a single taste of this. Would kill everyone- burn down this entire fuckin’ city.”

You didn’t doubt it, and Toji didn’t let you - not for a single second. 

Because he was almost violent in his approach, bruisingly pushing apart your legs further and further with each sloppy, stumbling second. Looking up at you with his wild gaze, with such a feral grin you could feel along every crevice of your overwhelmed cunt. 

“Can tell ya liked that-” he’s huffing out a surprised bout of laughter, “Ohhh- ya like that very much, huh?”

His tongue was alternating between ravaging your clit and brushing against the teasing edge of your entrance now. Over and over. And you’re gifted with another imprinting smack! onto your quivering cunt - and another and another and another until you’re all but sobbing out such a broken, “Toji- m’so close, fuck- m’gonna cum, m’gonna cum–”

“Then cum f’me, my wife.”

It only takes a few more messy rams of Toji’s fingers knuckle-deep into your eagerly swallowing pussy until you’re crashing so aggressively into your high. Wave after wave of white-hot pleasure running down, down, down your spine and into where he was relentlessly stuffing your convulsing pussy. 

Fucking you over and over through your orgasm, the pretty sight of you so splayed out and ruined makes Toji’s mouth water. He feels like a damn dog with the way his tongue lolls out, grin widening, he murmurs absent-mindedly, “Yeah- wouldn’t be bad at all. Swear you’re gonna be the end of my sanity.”

Fuck, you shamelessly ogle the way his dark robe falls down his broad shoulders, revealing so many dips and curves of muscle after muscle. He was so large - so meticulously sculpted that your restless legs fasten around Toji’s slenderly toned waist, drawing him close until your bare chests were rubbing up against one another. “Heh- you don’t get to hold out on me anymore, doll.”

It sounded almost like a threat - but your bleary, orgasm-drunk mind only has the chance to wonder what exactly he would do if you did. If you didn’t give him - the one head of the Zenin clan that didn’t get everything he wanted handed to him on a silver platter since birth - the one thing he would kill for. Die for. 

You. 

So you’re smiling drunkenly, head tilted to one side, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Toji doesn’t answer - doesn’t even bother to. And the only response you’re getting is a strained laugh - delirious almost, like the mere thought of that was enough to shred away whatever was left of his sanity.

And yours - clearly - because in that very moment, Toji lets his throbbing cock finally spring out, smacking against his abs to leave a glisteningly wet smear of precum. So so angry, his fat weeping tip lets out another wave of syrupy precum at the chill of the heady air. 

Shit - he was big. 

Long, long shaft blending so prettily from a feverish red at his tip to the tan skin behind those tufts of black at his happy trail. Veins pulsing, girthy enough that you’re wondering back to his kill count, thighs twitching nervously to a close. 

“No- no no-” you could tell his tone was trying to veer into scolding, but you caught the way it cracks with so much raw need. “Don’t you fuckin’-” His hands just wrench your knees back open, green eyes just aflame at this point. “-dare.” 

His pointed smile was so dripping wet with your sweet sweet juices from before, trickling in a sloppy trail all the way from the glossy corners of his lips, down to his chin. And his eyes follow the splattering, thick puddle on your collarbone. 

“Oh-” Toji’s mouth falls into a wicked gasp, immediately, he’s surging forward to pool the syrupy mess on his hot tongue. “Heh- guess we really are just now consummating our marriage, huh?”

The movement causes his painfully rock-hard cock to just kiss at your puffy pussy lips, just mashing the fat round tip of his length between your slit. Teasing. So fucking filthy. 

“Toji-” you’re wrenching him by his dark hair to pant into his open mouth, like a mantra. “More- need more- fuck I need-”

“More?”  His shuddering rap is barely even audible, ringing straight to your very heated core, because he sounded so wrecked. So fucking utterly ruined. Voice a few octaves higher in disbelief, “My pretty girl wants my cock? Fuckin’ want-” And then it’s like all the air is being knocked out of your lungs - literally. Feeling as if you’re being split apart so sinfully so, “more?”

You couldn’t have answered if you’d wanted to - because Toji Zenin was fucking ruthless. Just as mean as those greedily lingering juts of his hips, pushing and pushing his massively rotund length past your first snug channel of muscle. 

But that didn’t matter, because your slutty cunt was speaking more than enough for the both of you - or at least that’s what Toji mutters, over and over when he pushes in jutting, unrhythmic jabs to squeeze himself deeper inside you. 

“Oh- oh my god–” you’re batting your heavy eyelids open to take in the way your overstuffed pussy just bulges around him. Lips spread so widely it was like they were conforming to each ridge and vein down Toji’s fat cock, beading a glossy sheen down every inch by fucking inch you were being fed. “So much- fuck, don’t know if I can take it.”

Toji Zenin would rather die than not have his pretty wife all overfilled with cock if that’s what it takes him. 

And by the way your teary eyes grow wider, he suspects his pussydrunk mind might’ve just babbled that out loud. “Heh…didn’t I tell ya, ma?” His low whisper puffs hotly against your ear, tugging tensely on your earlobe. “M’gonna fucking ruin ya.”

And it’s times like this that it’s so clearly impossible to forget that Toji is inhumanly human - that you are so unfairly nothing in a match up against him.

CRACK!

Because with one, harsh ram of his sharp hip bones smacking against the globes of your ass - every solid inch of his intimidating cock is slammed against your tightly cushioning walls. It’s such a ravaging intrusion and you swear you could feel him everywhere. Feel him thrumming hotly against sweet spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. Finally, buried all the way to his thick hilt, yet still nuzzling his hips upwards for more-

“S’broken.” Toji muses, and for a second you didn’t know if he was talking about you or the suspiciously sagging bed. “Plan B.” 

It takes only two seconds for his beefy arms to pick you up as if you were weightless - god, he was treating you like some object. And the only time he’s not enveloped by your heavenly cunt is when you’re being shoved down like some slut onto the cool mahogany of Toji’s work desk, his firm front pressing up against your arched back.  

“Plan C is to just fuck you into the floor until it breaks.” he snorts throatily into your ear. 

And you wondered whether it was a joke - you hoped it was a joke. You almost half-believed it until he was back to bulldozing his plump tip back into your briefly-neglected cunt. Stretching the clingy rim of muscle to bend to his round length, fully. Oh, he’ll never get used to this sight. 

Yeah, you definitely weren’t making it out alive. 

“F-fuck you really are-” One hand of yours scrambles to blindly white-knuckle the smooth wood beneath you when Toji’s bludgeoning your pussy with powerful, long thrusts. Feeling every minute flex of his thick thighs behind your own, shuddering with each forceful hammer of his sweeping cock inside you. “-you really are in so deep.”

As if to confirm, the man himself glides down an open palm to your stomach. Pressing down hard with all five splayed-out fingers until Toji could feel the same incessant slam of his thumping cockhead, the cascading ripple of his heavy, cum-filled balls smacking against your ass. 

“Told ya- hah told ya so.” his cocky groans are whirling all throughout your mind, such a hot, melty mess with the sheer fucking stretch of Toji’s cock. “Y’know…I can’t help but imagine just how pretty you’d hngh- look all stretched out n’ swollen as a momma.”

You’re nodding deliriously, and the way his crashing thrusts were just bruising against your spongy cervix, bouncing off onto every sweetly hidden sensitive spot inside your elastic walls. “Shit- ya jus’ got wetter- ya like that? The thought of me fuckin a baby into ya?” he spits, long sloppy tongue coming up to taste the dredges of tears streaming down your face- shit, when did you even start crying? 

“Shh shhh- don’t cry–” he’s cooing, rewarding you with another heavy smack! right onto your poor clit. Every steady clash against your over-sensitive g-spot only sends a fresh wave of big fat tears for Toji to kiss at. “-don’t cry, don’t cry. Never f’me, m’never hah- gonna kill off anything that makes my pretty wife cry-” A soft, salty peck on your lips, “-n’ that includes me. If ya asked me to, ma. I’ll give ya anything you ever want.”

There’s a creaking slam! on the wooden surface, and a hasty look over your shoulder shows that Toji has hiked his knee up onto the desk. For a second, you wonder whether it hurt - whether the throbbing shaft of his cock wasn’t rubbed raw by now, whether his abs weren’t just burning with movement. Fucking you so recklessly into the desk.

But oh, you think Toji Zenin would care?

You think he would give a fuck about anything other than rutting riotously into your gripping cunt? Drilling into you again and again until your tip-toes don’t even reach the ground at the force of his pressurized thrusts. The change in angle has his leaky tip glide glossy lines right across the bottom of your dripping pussy and pressing down harshly onto your g-spot. So rough. So mean. You’re scrambling further and further up the desk and-

“Now now-” Toji hoists your weak hips up ever-so-slightly back to him, before pinning you to the desk with his full, heavy bodyweight. “No running away. Heh…how funny would it be if I actually did jus’ hngh- fuck a baby into ya right now?” His fingers get so sloppy on your clit, “Fill ya up- rub an heir right in everyone’s faces?”

“Shit- m’so close- again-” Your ears are popping at the pure saturated stimulation when his hand down below rolls over your clit. Desperate. Depraved. Glossing up the curve of his thick thumb with all the sweet slick beading out with each broken thrust. It’s like he was out of control - losing his fucking mind. And your delirious mind wondered whether you’d be next, that faint cracking of joints certainly not boding well for either of you. “Toji, m’gonna-”

He’s so erratic - sloppy. And so it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same - fuck, you didn’t even realize it at first.

So hard that your vision flashes red and white, breathing raggedly gasping in lungfuls as you rock your sticky hips back into Toji’s so greedily. Your voice is shot - because you’re moaning Toji’s name so loud that it almost felt disrespectful, echoing across the sex-thickened air. “Tha’s right- scream as loud as you want, ma. It’s just us in this house.”

And maybe it was that - maybe it was the feeling of your velvety walls clamping down hard around his achy length - maybe it was just the way you’re whispering out such saccharine sweet, “Cum inside.”

Because Toji’s fractured sanity can only handle a few more unkindly bullying drives into your gushing cunt before he’s cumming and cumming so much he thinks he might die. 

Doesn’t know if he can - if he wants to - stop.

“Oh- ohhh fuck- didn’t think I’d actually-” You feel a branding bite inside the crook of your neck as his sloppy white seed splatters at your inner thigh with each rummaging thrust forward. Oozing down in messy, thick dredges. “-hngh- gonna fill you up so good- until you can’t take it anymore.” You didn’t know if you already could - because you felt so full. Toji’s syrupy cum sloshing around with each ram of his hips, coating your walls in a creamy, slick-like sheen on the inside. 

“Yes–” you sigh over another splintering crack! from somewhere, “Fuck fuck fuck- need you to- hngh, wanna make you a daddy- give you an heir, To-”

It’s as if he couldn’t bear to hear your swollen lips part with his name, because Toji’s shutting you up with a sweltering kiss. Still mounted and rutting into you so animalistically, “the best- the best momma, you’re gonna be the best momma-” he hushes into your mouth. Pliantly kneading your body into a sinful arch for him, you barely even register it when he’s carrying you away. Two thick fingers pooling his glistening cum, inching them back into your stretched-out cunt - “Don’t waste a single drop now- hngh- fuck, you’ll look so pretty all full.”

Before you know it, you’re being sprawled out so easily on the clean tatami mats below, face down, your hips being propped up by one of Toji’s. And in your bleary peripheral vision, you could just about make out how ruined that desk was - how broken. How the fuck haven’t either of you broken any bones, yet?

Or maybe you have - you wouldn’t even know at this point, because Toji was still slamming into your poor, overspilling pussy again. His harsh grunt puffs out in a feverish breath against your ear, “Told ya I was gonna ruin you, doll. Better get ready-” He’s punctuating each word with a sloppy, sold thrust, pace picking up to fuck you so thoroughly into the floor. “Because I have a Plan D and a Plan E until m’sure you’re givin’ me an heir.”

A/N. Ooo what if I made a clan leader series? Thoughts?

Plagiarism not authorized.

[valalice]

BLINDS WIDE OPEN .ᐟ ft. stalker!caitvi

ꮼ summary. you've unknowingly attracted the attention of piltover's finest, and now they'll do anything to make sure you're theirs. ( inspired by 'she' by tyler, the created ft. frank ocean )

warnings. dark content. fem!reader. reader isn't specified to be from piltover or zaun. stalking. slightly nsfw. established caitvi. allusions to murder but could also be just them scaring off said person. possessive!caitvi. abuse of power (on cait's part). commander!cait. unsolicited note & gift sending. staged meeting/slight savior complexes. pet names (r!receiving : darling, pretty girl, little bird, dear). reader is painfully oblivious. g!p cait (it's not really that important, just a short mention of it). vouyerism. vi takes pictures of reader without her consent. pantie stealing & sniffing & alluded usage of stolen panties. wc. 2.3k

m.list. | arcane m.list.

‣ their little obsession starts out innocent. you're just a civilian, blending into the crowd around you, just another person going about their routine. but to caitlyn and vi you stood out. they didn't actively seek you out, you just happened to also be in the same places as they were at times, and they couldn't complain about that. often moving or forgetting what they were doing to see (follow) you a little longer.

‣ they agree that they've never been so sure about something before. you allure them in, like a flower temping a honey bee. someone so sweet, with such beauty that want, need you. they begin calling your theirs from then on.

‣ it turned sour when once again, out of coincidence you were in the same vicinity as vi, the pink haired woman quickly taking notice of you, her fingers hooking into her hood to pull it over and cover herself as she keeps a sweet distance behind you. not too far and not too close. the bustling streets get rowdier and vi gets thrown around a bit, picking up her pace and ramming her shoulder into who gets close to her, so she doesn't get whisked off into the frown and loses you. she groans when out of nowhere a brutish man blocks her view, putting her scuffed hand on his arm, mumbling something out about needing somewhere to be (a lie), and just within those few moments of vi’s watchful eye on you you've presumably arrived at your destination, a restaurant. she sighs and takes post near by, but as quickly as she was resting, slumped against some wall, her posture straightens out. fist fighting at her side, her teeth begging to grind, hard enough she'd snap her jaw off. you've met up with a woman, and said woman has her hands on you, pulling you into a hug. a glare bores into the mystery woman's head. if vi had glared any harder she's sure beams would've shot out her eyes and straight into her head.

‣ since then, the couple had made sure to purposely watch you. no more coincidences or hopeful wishes that they'd see you a few times out of their week. now they see you every chance they can get. and at this point they're getting bolder, more risky with how they watch you. inching closer and closer into your space as they follow you just to get a whiff of your shampoo, or perfume. going into the same places as you instead of watching from outside. frequenting the same places you frequent and learning your favorites, caitlyn has gone as far, as asking for the same drink as you one time when she was standing behind you in a small cafe. they're even begin starting to work out your relationships with people, keeping tabs on them too. and oh, you haven't seen that one friend in awhile.

‣ caitlyn begins to abuse her power as commander to find and dig through your findings. memorizing your stats; height, weight, hair color, eye color, blood type, ect. she got caught once snooping through your files by a subordinate and quickly sorted herself out, clearing her throat out and making up some lie about needing a file on a stillwater escapee. waving your file at them and briskly walking past them saying that she’ll be in her office, when she's really taking that file home with her.

‣ they’d even begin sending you notes and gifts. notes that read along the lines as “you look beautiful today.” “loved the new hairstyle, did it just for us?” “one day you'll see that you were made for us.” and the gifts are usually items they'd watch you eye in shops or things they'd think you'd like based off of your other preferences, like clothing, books, a new bag, that expensive new technology device you've been saving up for since your old one broke, and of course the classic flowers and chocolate. and they can't lie when they're hurt whenever you come home or open your door to one of their notes or gifts that you have a horrified look on your face, frantically looking around to see you could've given it to you, and vi in particular is hurt whenever she watches you throw out the chocolates she picked for you.

‣ despite all of this, they still have yet to formally meet you, although they're sure you know of them. but they can't simply introduce themselves, they have to make it look natural. accidental and like you needed them. they've learned your entire routine just for a moment like this.

you had just finished up grocery shopping. the sun was just finishing up with rising fully within the sky. you enjoyed going first thing when the store opens to dismiss the morning rush that happens by the time you're bagging your items and leaving. as you're making your way home, your head peeks from over the brown paper bags in your arms to watch where you're walking.

it's quick and sudden, the catch of something on your foot. knowing what's next, so you close your eyes preparing for impact against the ground. at least your groceries will cushion your fall, but not without ruining them underneath your weight.

except you don't and your body stays slanted still at a degree. peeking an eye open you're met with a pink haired woman, she looks familiar, but you can't put your finger on her name. you're reminded of the groceries in your arms from the crinkle of the bags, and they feel lighter in your arms. her hands are placed over your groceries, and there's also a pair of hands on you, but on your waist? who's the person behind you?

“are you alright?” the woman in front of you asks, her voice is low and comforting.

it happens swifty, the woman in front and the person behind you working to place you back upright on your feet. and you're dazed when she also takes most of the bags from your arms.

“she asked you a question, darling.” you twist around at the sound of a new voice, the person from behind you presume, and it's. . . british? upon turning around you're met with the fall figure of commander kiramman, and on instinct you're standing a little straighter.

“c—commander kiramman,” you splutter out. “i’m, uh, i’m okay.” looking down you adjust the bags in your arms, just for caitlyn to swoop down and take them in her arms, and within them, the bags no longer look as big as they did in your arms. “thank you, for, em, catching me from falling to my doom.” you let out a light laugh at the end, trying to make light of your embarrassing situation and to ignore that you're flushed, thankful for the cool morning air against the warmth of your sizzling body.

“it's no problem, really. we hate to see a pretty girl get hurt.” the pink woman smiles. oh! that's when it clicks.

“you're vi!” you enthuse, feeling a sense of pride that you were able to remember her name, you knew she seemed familiar. feeling a little silly it didn't click sooner since she's so recognizable.

“i am,” her smile grows. “and you already know caitlyn.”

it feels like a game as you bounce your head from one woman to the other, but now your attention lies on caitlyn. “no more calling me commander kiramman. no need for formalities, you can just call me caitlyn.” she hums, correcting her name for you.

yet your wide eyes stay strained up at her, “but would it not be respectful to call you commander?”

caitlyn’s exterior remains collected, only vi catching the way cait’s eye slightly twitches, your worries for calling her by her correct title is cute and sends a jolt straight to already semi hard cock.

“like i said, no need for that. calling me caitlyn is perfectly respectful. alright, little bird?”

they both refrain from voicing their distaste of your nod at cait’s words.

it's quiet for a moment, the three of you just looking between each other and you realize both of them still have your groceries in their arms. “oh! i can take my groceries now.”

they both look at you like you'd just grown another head from your neck.

“don't be silly. you should've seen how looked trying to carry all of these bags—”

cait cuts vi off, “you looked comically cute.”

a part of you doesn't really know how to take that they thought you looked funny trying to carry your groceries, but at least they thought you were cute. “i normally don't have that many bags,” that was something they already knew. “but today they had some great deals i couldn't pass up on.” oh, gee, they wonder who tipped off the owner to have such deals.

“well that's great, dear. but what we're trying to get at is that, we want to assist you with your groceries.” caitlyn clarifies, eyes flickering down to her girlfriend.

“so, we’ll carry them. keeping you from stumbling by trying to balance it all in your arms. and you show us the way to your place.” vi finishes, although they already knew the route to your home with their eyes closed.

this isn't something that you'd agree to, but it's vi and commander kiramman, or caitlyn, and that automatically makes you trust them. agreeing to their offering and placing yourself ahead, beginning to walk your way home, and they follow, missing the way they wickedly smile at each as they just perfectly wormed their way into your life.

‣ since meeting you they've become even further unhinged. while caitlyn has duties that distract her from her habits of watching you, vi has complete free will to watch you whenever she'd like. her favorite is when cait is working late, instead of being alone at the estate, she’ll take post at a spot close to you place, to her it's the perfect spot, having a view into your home, able to see as you go from room to room, even your bedroom. both you and her are thankful that your windows don't really point anywhere, so you're comfortable enough to keep you blinds open most of the time and vi is able to watch as you leisure around, cook, clean, when you're fresh from a shower, still damp and drying off your body with your towel. she's seen it all, she's seen you all, in your most vulnerable state when you touch yourself, fingers trailing between your pretty thighs to play with your cunt. vi wishes she could hear the gasp, whines, and moans of pleasure that fall from your lips, but right now the best she can do is capture pictures.

bonus

‣ they're both desperate for you, the run ins, pictures, files, watching you isn't getting them what they need. but they both know that it isn't time to act just yet. so, cait request for vi to break into your home one night, a night they know you'll be out with some friends, to steal a few pairs of your panties. something small that'll take the edge off for a little while. luckily it had been a warm few days and a window in your bedroom was cracked, so vi welcomed herself in as she slid the window open wider so she could slip in. already having the layout of your bedroom memorized as she makes her way to your dresser, opening the first drawer to behold where you keep your socks, bras, and panties. she diligently scours through the stacks of panties, making sure to keep them all nice and tidy as you had them, picking out a few pairs that she and cait would like, mostly cotton, until she got to the bottom of the stacks where you kept your lace panties. she can only imagine that you got them for her and cait to look all pretty when they finally take you. there's a pretty lavender pair, it makes her wet thinking about you wearing them. vi brings them up to her nose, eyes rolling back as she sniffs the fabric, you've worn them before she can tell, they smell of you and your detergent. feeling a high, she promptly stuffs the various pairs of panties in her pockets and exits her way from your bedroom, leaving everything as it was when she came in. caitlyn and her will make great use of them.

and just a few days later cait gets a call from you, the exchange of numbers occurring that morning they helped you with your groceries. “what is it, darling. tell me.”

“it’s—” you pause, rethinking if you should've even called. “it's embarrassing, but i’m scared.” you whisper.

“i ensure you i’ve heard my fair share of things while on the job.”

“promise you won't laugh or call me crazy?”

“i promise.”

you sigh, gathering courage. “i have a stalker, or stalkers. i really don't know but they refer to themselves as 'us' and 'we' a lot.”

caitlyn leans back in her office chair, “oh, darling. i’m sorry to hear that.” faux concern is ridden in her tone. “have they been doing anything to you?” she already knows the answer to that, this is normally the time she'd take out her note pad and pen to make note of the report, but there's no need for that.

“yes. i feel foolish to not think much of it at first, i thought it would just fizzle out over time. but the notes, the gifts, they've gotten odder. and now—” you stop yourself.

“and now?”

you bite your lip, your heartbeat beats rapidly in your chest, it's loud bangs rattling throughout your body. “i think they've taken some of my panties.” you whisper that also, embarrassed to have to admit that.

caitlyn smirks against the phone. oh, you have no idea.

[blood-smiles]

𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ୭˚. ᵎᵎ

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐆𝐍! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 TW MDNI . slight nsfw . yandere content . stalking . submissive yandere . creepy thoughts . highly unprofessional behavior from yandere . if reader is a simp and Alejandro is a bigger one .

You organized various assortments of products on shelves, placing each product perfectly, the name of the item fully on display,

While stepping back to admire your work you heard the squeaky shoes of a little kid, suddenly a small body crashed into your side and landed on the floor with a sickening crack,

“Jimmy! Jimmy! Oh my god! JIMMY!” The frantic voice of a woman called out, you instantly turned around, seeing the little boy wailing on the ground, his arm twisted in an uncomfortable direction,

You crouched down next to the child, trying to get him to calm down as you inspected his arm,

The same woman ran in your direction and pushed you off her child with a rough shove, tears welling up in her eyes,

“YOU! YOU DID THIS TO MY CHILD!” She shrieked, holding the kid in her arms,

“I-I ma’am! I swear it’s not that, your child was running and crashed into—“ 

“I DONT WANT TO HEAR IT! I AM GOING TO SUE YOU FOR THIS!” She screamed at you, her spit landing on your face as you stepped back,

A burning pain splattered all over your face, the woman’s purse making a harsh contact with your nose bridge, 

Small red droplets dirtied your white uniform polo shirt, 

She scooped up the injured boy in her arms and ran outside the store, yelling profanities and curses at you,

Suddenly a loud crash was heard as the woman kicked the large shelves, causing the tall shelves to come down on you, one by one alike to dominos,

You can’t remember what happened next, as you woke up in a hospital.

So. You have a huge law suit over your head now, a metaphorical guillotine over your neck, just waiting to be brought down on you, decapitating you and your clean record,

You stood in the waiting room, the fresh smell of floor cleaner wafting into your nostrils, helping you distract yourself momentarily,

“Mx (Y/N)?” A deep voice rings out, pulling you back into reality,

You glance up at the source of the voice, your (e/c) meeting with scarlet red hues, sharp eyes encased behind glasses,

You slowly got up, using your crutches to stabilize your footing, the man waited for you, his eyes inspecting your form as if calculating your every move, he stared at you for longer than needed but you ignored his eyes and kept acting as if nothing was happening,

He politely opened the door for you, giving you enough room to limp inside the office, after you successfully sat down, the man stood in front of his desk,

His ruby eyes were drilling into your own, as if memorizing every single detail of your iris, you looked into his eyes too, trying to seem confident,

If you looked close enough you could see the slight color difference under his eyes, you recognized that gaze— of exhaustion and pulling all nighters, but he did do a good job minimizing the eye bags!

You didn’t get to look at him properly but he was very well dressed.. the classic black vest along with black dress pants and a white dress shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off his forearms,

Pretty purple hair gathered at the back of his head in a ponytail, two tresses framed the sides of his face, bringing more attention to his sharp features, he was attractive.. Very attractive.

After another round of continuous staring the male finally cleared his throat, breaking the suffocating tension in the room,

“I am Alejandro Ortega, your defense in the court.” He stated clearly, sticking his hand out, asking for a hand shake,

“Oh. I’m (Y/N), thank you for your time sir.” You politely stretched out your arm and gently shook his hand,

His larger one enveloped your own hand, giving you a steady and firm handshake, slightly squeezing your hand in his,

His touch lingered, hand still tightly held around yours, he stared into your eyes, unwilling to let go,

You half smiled, trying to pull your hand away from his, slightly becoming unsettled when he didn’t let go,

He coughed, letting go of your hand and sitting down on his own chair,

He crossed his legs under the desk, taking out a paper and a pen, tapping the opposite side of the tip on the paper sheet, he discussed with you the phases of how he was planning to defend you in this case, giving you a bit of a background check on him,

“Well then, please tell me how everything happened, miss (Y/N).” 

You started retelling the events of the store, your hands coming in play and moving around to emphasize your actions and feelings,

A soft smile bloomed on the man’s face, sometimes even chuckling quietly at your exaggerated gestures,

Alejandro liked—No, adored your company, you were so charismatic and lively, your energy was so contagious that even his hard exterior had began to show cracks,

The buzzing in his chest wouldn’t stop, his hands were sweaty and his face felt warm, just what was this feeling? He is supposed to maintain a poker face and not show any favoritism with his clients.. Oh but you.. he couldn’t help but show contentment around you,

Unfortunately you soon had to go home and rest, he felt truly pity for you, being all bruised up and injured— on top of that you were in the process of being sued, 

Such a sweet soul you have, he would make sure that you would be well protected under him, he would hate to see you in harms way,

Alejandro finished helping the janitors cleaning up, he waved everyone off as they left, with suitcase in hand he leaned against the wall,

Ever since your appointment with him he couldn’t stop thinking of your face and voice, perhaps he could use your files for some.. private research.

He opened the doors of his home, his wife, Ume, peeked into the hallway as if already knowing it was him who entered the manor,

Her long white hair flowed behind her as she sped walked towards him, she brushed her bangs out of her beautiful face as she approached him,

“Honey! Did you get off work early?” She wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a loving peck on his lips,

Alejandro grunted in response, peeling her arms off his shoulders and neck, he despised physical contact from Ume, he hated her voice, to him it sounded like nails scratching against a chalkboard, it irritated him, greatly so.

Ume was not at fault, for she had done no wrong to him, she was what any man would wish for, she was obedient, beautiful, loving and skilled in every aspect,

He just hated the intent behind his marriage with her, ever since he had slipped out of his mothers womb and brought into this world he had no control over his life, for it had been decided for him,

What he was going to be, who he was going to marry, where he was going to study, who his relationships were and even how he should feel,

He had no control over his life, he had never had any control over his own livelihood, his parents had controlled him even beyond the grave,

He hated his life. He hated Ume. He hated his parents. He cherishes you. He hated everything but you.

You had brought excitement to his life somehow, you came into his office and sparked something in him with your attitude and personality,

Maybe his life wasn’t so bad.

He stared at the knives in his kitchen, his hand itching to find something— someone to slice into ribbons with the sheening blade of the knife,

When did he become so violent? Was he this savage all along?

He shook his head lightly, taking off his glasses momentarily as he cooked dinner for his self and Ume,

He flipped the chicken and rice in two plates, as he brought the food and placed it down on the long hall table,

Ume awed at the perfectly cooked food, she dug in immediately, complimenting him and his cooking skills every time she spooned food into her mouth,

Alejandro subconsciously clutched a napkin in his hand, his knuckles turning a ghost white from sheer force,

“..Thank you” he muttered, his hand shakily cutting off some chicken and inserting it into his mouth,

His mind wandered off to your beautiful eyes, those beautiful (e/c) gems twinkling under light enamored him so much..

Alejandro noticed how your eyes would wander off sometimes, looking at him intently, as if you were listening to the most interesting thing in the world, it just made him feel so bashful..

How long had it been since he had seen you? 5 hours? 5 days? 5 years? God, he can’t remember anymore, just being away from you felt like an eternity, it was driving him insane..

Maybe next time the both of you meet you can go out for a drink together.. he smiled a little at that, perhaps he could invite you to a garden and talk to each other and learn more about you..

“Dear? What are you smiling at?” The gratingly annoying voice of his wife chimed in, anger rose inside him, taking most of his willpower to keep a calm mind and most importantly of all not to lash out at her,

“It’s none of your concern, Ume.” He answered coldly, glaring at her, a small vein sprawling across his temple in irritation,

She looked taken aback by her husband snapping at her, her smooth caramel tinted skin draining of color, her wonder turning into a fear in a flash,

Just as she was going to open her mouth to apologize Alejandro cut her off, 

“—I’m going to go take a shower, I’m finished with my diner, wash the dishes please.” He instructed as he left but not before giving her a pointed look,

Alejandro shut the bedroom door behind him, huffing as he sat on his and Ume’s shared bed

Ume wouldn’t understand, she would break down if she ever found out he had developed romantic feelings for someone else,

As soon as he makes developments in yours and his relationship he will make sure to get divorce papers signed immediately,

He wouldn’t want you to think he was unfaithful, because he isn’t.

His marriage never worked out anyway, he can only imagine the beautiful domestic life you would have with him,

He wouldn’t have to come into office, he could be your stay at home husband! He knows how to cook, clean and overall good spouse.. He spent most of his childhood honing these skills by taking care of his little sister,

He simply goes into work to avoid having to see his insufferable wife, even a minute away from her made his life expectancy slightly increase,

He opened the water, staring at his reflection before stepping into the shower,

Cold water ran from the shower head, landing refreshingly on the tall males’ back and body,

He sighed, relaxation seeping into his body slowly and steadily, he leaned his body weight onto his forearms,

His forehead rested on the cool shower walls, cleansing his thoughts for just a moment, his long hair stuck to his forehead and shoulders as water slipped off in small droplets,

 as hard as he tried he couldn’t fend away certain thoughts, all of them being of You. You. You. Ý̵̯͙̰̾Ô̸̱͉̖̣̾͝Ú̷͎͍.

Look at what you have reduced him to.. A lovesick fool.. craving nothing more than you— It has only been five days, yet you live in his brain and heart like maggots, digging deeper and deeper into him..

Yet he didn’t care, he would allow you to do so because he knew that he secretly liked it, he liked having someone to obsess over and follow like a lovesick puppy,

he had been saving his love for too long, and now it seems that you pulled the trigger on his heart, for this dangerous love ridden russian roulette has just started.

He now understands why he suffered for so many years, he sees now that it was all for you, it seems that god has gotten tired of torturing him and sent you, as his savior— his light.

If he knew things would come to this he would have chosen to suffer again and again, continuing what appeared to be an endless cycle just to be able to meet you and reach zenith.

He is holding his heart in his hands for you, it was you awakened feelings he never thought were real, now assume the consequences of your actions, won’t you, love?

Ume stalked the halls of the huge mansion, her heart feeling heavy after she upset her beloved husband,

She smoothened down her dress as she shakily opened the bedroom door, seeing that the room was empty she sat down on the bed,

Staring at the bedroom door longingly she decided to slightly peek through a crack in the doorway,

The water landed against the shower floor, helping muffle out the small whimpers and moans that were heard from Alejandro,

His hand fisted his cock rapidly, his hips bucking into his soft hand to feel some kind of friction, the sound of his hand clapping against his skin being audible even with the drizzling water ambients,

Ume’s eyes widened, never had she though her husband could ever make such.. Sinful sounds, it seemed he was saying something between the strangled sounds of pleasure..

“—N).. (Y/N).. Mmph! (Y/N), please..” 

(Y/N)? Who was this (Y/N)? Why was her husband saying that name? Was he cheating on her?

Her green eyes zeroed in on his body, watching as his back would arch and tremble whenever he would get close to climax,

Ume had tried a handful of times to get some kind of intimacy going on with Alejandro, going as far as getting some.. Aphrodisiac products, however it seemed that even under the influence of such hard core drugs he would rather deal with it himself than come close to her,

His free hand roamed his body, soon reaching up against his chest and starting to play with the soft muscle, 

Delivering soft and hard squeezes, soft groans muddled with mutters of “I love you”s slipped out of his lips,

Dampened hair fell over his eyes as he pressed his cheek against his shoulder, gentle sobs mixed with the sound of water running,

His thrusts slowed down as his thighs pressed together, with a final cry of your name the knot in his stomach came undone,

Loads and loads of white semen painted a section of the tiled shower walls, he kept thrusting into the air, riding out his high.

Ume closed the door quietly, sitting on the bed she placed her hands over her face, her well manicured nails digging into the sides of her soft face,

Whoever this.. (Y/N) was she was going to speak to, and it’s not going to be pretty.

Alejandro was her husband, hers only, and she was willing to fight tooth and nail for him,

The bathroom door opened, showing the ruby eyed man walking out with a towel wrapped around his waist, delicate beads of water dripping off his hair and rolling down his skin abdomen,

“Is there something wrong?” He asked with a raise of his eyebrow, eyeing her down menacingly,

The pretty woman but her lips while smiling, kicking off her shoes and spreading her legs open, an idea popping into her head

“Well.. perhaps, I’m feeling awfully.. Hot down there, help me will you?”

It had been 3 months precisely, it was your court date, you dressed up as best as you could afford, brushing your hair neatly and ironing your clothes to perfection,

You arrived early, looking at the huge court with furrowed brows and crudely covered dark circles, you weren’t able to get a wink of sleep last night,

Your mind couldn’t stop thinking of all the worst possible scenarios— What If you lost and went to jail? What if you were forced to sleep with a crazy cell mate? Sentenced to death? Having to use forks as hair brushes for the end of your days?!

A hand gently fell on your head, softly caressing your hair, you met scarlet eyes, beautiful eyes, the same shade as blood,

“Everything is going to be alright, I can assure you that, so please don’t worry your pretty little head over whatever you are thinking, will you promise me that?” You knew that voice, that was your lawyers voice, it was always so soothing to you, never was his voice rough or hoarse, it was always so warm and gentle..

You nodded, your worries calming down slightly, you weren’t expecting it but it sure was meaningful to you, you knew he was very.. Stoic most of the time, you liked to think he might have a soft spot for you, although the probability of that is probably non existent, oh how you were so so wrong.

The both of you entered the court, you were sweating buckets of sweat, pulling at your collar once in a while to try and freshen yourself up,

“Defendants please rise.” The judge called out, her voice strong and authoritative,

The both of you stood up, you were so nervous in the moment that you totally ignored Alejandro’s hand clasped around yours, his fingers intertwined tightly in between yours,

Alejandro was right, he was good, good was a massive understatement, he got evidence from places you didn’t even recognize, you had no idea if some of the documents had been falsified or not due to how legit they looked,

By the end of court you weren’t the one in cuffs, but the mother of the little boy, who had been taken into custody,

She yelled profanities at you, kicking and screaming at the police men to let her go,

Alejandro stood in front of you protectively, eyes narrowed into a glare, gaze as sharp as knives and glass shards,

You were so happy and relieved, weight had been lifted off your shoulders, you felt as if you were going to cry or happiness,

Your chest felt light as you hugged Alejandro, thanking him a million times over and over,

Had you overstepped boundaries? Maybe, Would Alejandro normally flip out and do something unseemly? If you were someone else, yes.

But it’s you, how could he deny you of something he had been wanting to do for a long time? How? So he wasn’t.

He deserved this too, he had gone through so much trouble to fake so much evidence to get that dirty bitch in jail, and you were willingly giving him his reward,

He basically threw himself on you, his arms over your head, he adjusted your arms on his waist, letting you hug him as close as you desired,

His face was close to your hair— so so close to you, he just had to smell you, just one second, please please please please please please.

He breathed in your scent, his eyes threatening to roll back into his head, you smelled so good, he knew his wife was in the audience but he couldn’t give less of a fuck,

Let her watch, let her see how he loved you so much more, he didn’t care anymore, he wasn’t going to hide it anymore, because it was true he had become so intimately infatuated with you he couldn’t even stand being a moment without you,

He had all he ever wanted right in his arms, and he didn’t care what he had to do to make you his, 

He didn’t care if he had to frame innocent people over and over again, he didn’t care if he had to make shady deals with hackers or mafia men, he will do crazy shit and get away with it!

If he had to let the world burn for you he would turn the world ablaze until only ash and cinder was left, only to light it on fire again over and over just to prove how much he loved you.

His eyes met his “wife”’s emerald like gaze, her eyes shining under light with jealousy, he knew she wanted to tear the both of you apart,

But he wouldn’t let her, as he would be the one ripping her to shreds this time around,

He will do anything and he means everything for you. 

He would do it all in your name. ♡

[stargirlsmooch]

OMG I SAW THAT YOU ARE TAKING REQUEST FOR VI??? Okay so hear me out… pornstar!vi that’s roommate with sweet!’i don’t even know I’m bi’!reader!! Like… the criss that reader would go through once she watches on of vi’s video 👀😩

voila... I give you pornstar!vi catching you masturbating! 18+

pornstar!vi x fem!reader

----

You just couldn’t find what you were looking for. It felt like you had scrolled past every video imaginable, all of them filled with attractive guys that you knew should be pushing your buttons. But when you opened up an old tried-and-true softcore clip of a girl riding a man with significant muscles,  just the sound of him taking a breath made you cringe. 

You thought that maybe you were just going through a phase, it’s happened before; getting repulsed by any thought or sound or sight of sex. But this felt different- you were still yearning to be fucked and filled. 

It was only as you were scrolling further and further that you realised the videos started to shift- a few 2-girls-1-guy threesomes eventually opened up to girls kissing, scissoring and getting off together, and finally you found a video of a leanly muscular woman with a fake cock strapped between her hips ploughing into a sopping wet pussy.

From the thumbnail, you could only see her small pert breasts and her sweetly defined abs. You tried to ignore the way looking at her nipples made your own pucker and your panties significantly wetter as you rubbed your thighs together.

You scrolled past. You’d never been attracted to another woman in your life. You’d never seen the appeal of watching lesbian sex. You definitely weren’t interested in feeling the perfect softness of another woman writhing against you, sliding your fingers into her warm soaking pussy and tasting how sweet she was.

You scrolled back up and pressed play without giving yourself time to consider it. Immediately, the soft moans of the two girls filled your headphones, and you felt yourself sink further into your mattress. The camera focussed on the thick pink cock splitting open a perfect pussy, sliding in and out slowly, as the girl getting fucked played with her nipples.

The camera cut to a wider angle that showed both girls, their faces, and their position. One was on her back, her legs held behind the knees by the strong hands of the other, spreading them wide. The other girl knelt on the bed, her hips grinding into the pussy, their thighs and hips meeting harshly. 

It was a few seconds before you noticed the intricate back tattoo and the pink hair. The fingers that had found their way into your wet pussy halted, the dots connecting slowly. And once they had, your fingers started back up again, rocking in and out of you harder, hitting that spot that made you whimper.

With your head thrown back in pleasure, you failed to see the shadows under your bedroom door shifting, or hear the gentle knock. Vi knocked a second time, before pressing her ear to your door, wondering if you were even home, until she heard the soft mewls and that lewd wet sound of your fingers filling your pussy.

“Fuck.” Vi dragged her hand down her face, smirking. Then she knocked again, harder, and finally she heard your voice telling her to wait a second, punctuated by some rustling of your sheets, before yelling for her to come in.

You had managed to quickly sit up against your headboard, rip your headphones off your head and shift your pyjama shorts back into an appropriate position. 

By the cheeky smile on her face, you could tell Vi had heard what you’d been doing, and a pinkness filled your cheeks as a result. You smiled through the embarrassment as your roommate wandered inside and sat on the edge of your bed, “do you have any moisturiser I could borrow? I ran out.”

“Sure,” you answered, shuffling off your bed quickly, dropping your unlocked phone on the duvet screen-side up like an idiot. Violet’s gaze caught on it, the image of herself fucking making her do a double take, before she picked it up and laughed.

“Really, cupcake?” The sweet nickname she used for you falling out of her mouth on a chuckle, “I didn’t even know you were into girls.”

Moisturiser in hand, you stood in the doorway to your bathroom, “what?”

Vi waved your phone at you briefly before looking back down and watching herself roughly plunging her strap into her scene-partner. Your smile vanished as the blush on your cheeks deepened, “I’m not.”

“Oh yeah?” Violet laughed, still admiring her work.

You ran over and swiped your phone out of her hand, locked it and threw it back onto your bed. “Seriously, I’m not,” you said with less indignation than you would have hoped.

Violet’s tongue licked over her bottom lip as she looked up at you, her gaze tracking all the way from your thighs, to your nipples still poking through your tank top, to your eyes that had snagged on her mouth.

“You’re not doing a very good job of convincing me,” she said, her hands reaching forward and gently grabbing the backs of your thighs so as to not spook you. Her fingers skirted over your skin until she met the fabric of your shorts, latching onto them, tugging them down. 

Vi moved slowly, giving you plenty of opportunities to stop her, but you never did, even as your pyjamas hit the floor and your pussy was exposed to her. In fact, as her lips met your hips with soft kisses, you signed quietly and tipped your head back, and your hands clutched her shoulders. 

“Look at you. You’re so wet, cupcake.” One of her hands moved from holding onto your hips, stroking your tummy gently, before her thumb dipped in between your thighs and was drawing loose circles over your clit. 

“Vi, oh my god,” the moan ripped out of your throat, and your nails dug into Vi’s shoulders as the wetness of your pussy doubled, leaking down your thighs. You looked down at her hand on you, watching as her fingers shifted so she was tracing one up and down your soaked slit.

“Do you want my fingers, baby?” Vi smiled up at you as her other hand trailed up your chest under your shirt until your breasts were on display for her, “hold this.”

You answered her question and her demand with an enthusiastic nod, moaning as one of her fingers filled you up. With your hands holding your shirt above your tits and your hips grinding over her hand, you worked up the courage to bend over, planting your lips on hers, which she met with a kiss of her own and a hand on the back of your neck.

Violet pulled back slowly, watching the string of your shared saliva dripping off your lips and onto your heaving chest. She slipped another finger inside you, revelling in the loud moan that left your mouth, taking it as a sign to speed up her movements.

And soon you were gasping as the heat in your belly grew to be too much, and you flooded Vi’s hand, her fingers still working to help you over the edge. Vi loved the way your hips worked her fingers in return, writhing over them until your orgasm had dissipated fully and you were left whining as the aftershocks made you clench around her.

As Vi pulled her fingers out of you and you watched her suck the cum off them, you realised maybe you were into girls. 

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Lick Back by Uzumaki Rebellion

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black Female OC

Warning(s): 18+, Explicit Sex, Angst, Cheating, Unprotected Sex, Illicit Extramarital Affair, Adultery, Pregnancy Sex, Breeding Kink, AITA!Terry Richmond.

Summary: Terry Richmond is stationed at the Camp Pendleton Marine Corps Base where he teaches incoming soldiers close quarters combat techniques as a MCMAP instructor. While hanging with rowdy fresh blood recruits at a bar, he meets Nova, the new wife of a fellow soldier who recently moved to Oceanside from South Carolina. Nova and her husband Jordan seem close at first, but Terry knows that Jordan cheats on her every chance he gets with secret weekend trysts. When Nova becomes pregnant and struggles to keep her marriage together, Terry steps in to cheer her up from Jordan's indifference. But he unintentionally embarks upon an illicit affair with Nova that turns his life upside down.

Word count: 18.2K

"In this world, concrete flowers grow

Heartache, she only doin' what she know

Weekends, get it poppin' on the low

Better days comin' for sure"

Kendrick Lamar & Sza – "Luther"

Terry never planned on having an affair.

Like the cliché excuse used the world over, it just…happened.

He'd been drinking and playing pool with his marine buddies Kevin and Von when Jordan Patterson stumbled into their favorite off-base dive bar with a group of rambunctious grunts that disturbed the peace of other patrons.

"Hey, Patterson…pipe down," Terry called out.

Jordan raised a hand to wave at Terry before his jarhead crew stopped at the bar to order drinks. Their loud laughter and conversation sounded celebratory.

"Cut him some slack, T. The man just got married," Kevin said.

"Patterson? Married? To who?" Terry asked.

He noticed several women near the bar rolling their eyes at Jordan and his party. Sticking his thumb and index finger in his mouth, Terry whistled and gestured for the rowdy group to join his side of the bar where he could preserve the peace.

"Hey! Sergeant Richmond! You're back!" Jordan said.

"Yep. My leave ends in two days."

"How was Louisiana?" Jordan asked.

"Same as I left it."

"Family good?"

"Yep."

Jordan had a gregarious personality that came off bigger than life. He was about four inches shorter than Terry, with a chiseled, penny-brown face that turned heads wherever he went. A natural lady-killer. Terry liked him well enough as a soldier, but away from work, he wasn't much for running around in the streets like the younger Lance Corporal was. He gave dap to Jordan and the others, and the quiet calm he exuded filtered down to the others. Terry bought a round of drinks for the newlywed and his friends. They settled into a good time quickly.

An attractive entourage of women walked in and joined their group. Most were girlfriends or wives of the men he hung with. That's when Terry first noticed Nova. She was taller than a few of the other women who were Filipino and Black. One Mexican woman mixed into their group pointed toward them in the back, and Nova caught his eye. She looked unsure of the surroundings and he could smell the country aura she exuded. A loose ponytail held back her black hair, and she wore a cute orange jumper that showed off slender legs. She was light brown like him, but the type of brown that would get darker in the California sunshine given time. Terry sipped his glass of whiskey and concentrated on the pool game he played with Von.

"Sarge…sarge…lemme introduce you to my wife…Nova. Nova…this is the baddest MCMAP instructor on base…Terry Richmond."

Nova's warm brown eyes twinkled. He held out a hand to shake. She took it.

"How are you doing, Mrs. Patterson?"

Nova giggled.

"That still sounds so strange to hear," she said. "Pleased to meet you Terry."

Her southcack accent sounded like warm honey molasses on thick buttered toast, and for a second, he couldn't believe Jordan's wild ass could pull a sweet country girl clear across the nation. Terry glanced at Jordan, but the younger man already had his eye on some other beauty playing pool at another table. The youngin always had a wandering eye, but Terry figured he'd shut that shit down with a wife present.

"You coming to the spot tomorrow? We're throwing a barbecue to celebrate me and Nova," Jordan said.

"I'll be there," Terry said. He looked at Nova again. "Enjoy your time here."

Von missed a shot, and Terry returned to his game, soon forgetting about Nova.

The bar had a small area where a live band played, and the music was a mix of millennial R&B and pop hits. Terry left tip money on a nearby table for his server and headed for the door. He glimpsed Jordan dancing with Nova, and they appeared happy. In love. He wished them well in his heart and went home.

Little did he know that their brief encounter would morph into something bigger than he could've imagined.

Terry wasn't hurting for companionship. Six-foot-three, fit, good looking, and single, he enjoyed a wide variety of women from Long Beach to San Diego. Living in Oceanside long enough had him looking away from the small seaside town for women. Military life attracted a certain kind of woman he wasn't interested in near the base. He was pleasantly surprised that Nova was nothing like the husband-hungry women his military buddies dealt with. For one, she was a university graduate. He found that out on the weekly flag football game he played at a park with the guys and their partners.

Playing flag football with men and women was something he and Von started seven years ago to create a tight bond of friends, especially for the younger men coming into the fold. It soon became a casual mentorship that fostered goodwill and was a lot of fun. It also helped the women find friends to help deal with homesickness for those who were far away from home for the first time. They became a support system when the men were called to do their tour of duty.

The crew played before eating, and Terry covered quarterback duty for Team A. He brought his friend Angie, who everyone thought he was fucking, to hang out and play. She was his beard to keep the other women from setting him up with their female friends who were desperate for a marine to marry. Angie was gay and always played her part well, plus she was a skilled football player.

Nova played with Jordan on Team B, facing a man twice her size. The sun beat down on them, and the odor of grilled ribs and brown sugar barbecue sauce flared his nostrils at the start of the game. Von and his wife Bethany started cooking early before everyone else arrived so that the food would be ready after the first quick game. Kevin played the role as ref and blew the whistle to start the game after Terry took a long huddle to explain to a new soldier's girlfriend her position. Her name was Cath, a white-looking mixed Filipina who seemed more interested in looking cute rather than actually playing. She kept batting her lashes at Terry and fiddling with her stringy dyed hair the color of a bleeding sunset.

"Let's go Team A, we ain't got all day!" Kevin called out.

Terry clapped his hands, and his teammates spread out. Angie hiked the ball to him, and Terry took a step back, cradling the football in his hand, ready to spring his powerful arm forward. His two wide-receivers, a man and woman, jetted down the grassy field and—

Nova snatched his blue flag from around his waist in less than six seconds.

Terry stared at her with an incredulous expression as Jordan danced around and talked mad shit. Nova grinned and twirled his flag belt in her hand. Terry glared at Conner, who was supposed to block her.

"Aye, she's fast, man," Conner said. "I pushed her back, but she got around me."

Team A huddled again. Terry glanced at Nova. An impish smirk creased her pretty lips. Angie hiked the ball, and Nova gunned it for him, blowing past Connor's bulky frame like he was a toddler. Terry ran and threw the ball fast. In fact, Nova kept him running and switching up his plays. When Team B finally had their chance to move the ball around, Terry and the others witnessed Nova's athleticism. Her lean build and speed were amazing. They switched up the teams after eating, and Terry took a break to watch and drink beer from the sidelines. He thought it was cute the way Jordan slapped his wife's butt each time she made a huge play. They were lovey-dovey and Terry hoped she would curb his explosive temper that he sometimes brought to the games. Jordan could be hard on new guys hanging out to play with them, and the addition of alcohol with testosterone didn't help.

Nova skipped playing the last game of the day and sat near Von's wife and Angie, chatting. Other women joined them as the guys stood or sat around arguing about their fantasy football picks or why Bronny James should ride his nepo ass on the Laker team bus. Terry ate another rib and licked his fingers, listening to the clash of several conversations. Jordan pulled a folding chair next to his wife and threaded his fingers with hers.

"Tired of them niggas arguing about the same shit every weekend," Jordan said.

"What do you think of California?" Angie asked Nova.

Jordan kissed her hand, and Nova fixed her eyes on Angie.

"It's different. A little faster than what I'm used to."

"You'll get used to it, baby," Jordan said.

The football landed in his lap. Kevin jogged over.

"You wanna play a quick game? These cholos nearby want to play," Kevin said.

Jordan glanced at Terry.

"You in man?" Jordan asked.

"I'm good."

Jordan bounced up from his seat and darted out to the field.

"He is so happy," Bethany said.

Nova gave a winsome smile while staring at her husband.

"We both are."

"How long were you dating before getting married?" Angie asked.

"Oh, Jordy's been my childhood sweetheart since I was thirteen."

"Really? Oh gosh, that's so cute," Bethany said.

Bethany gave a look to Terry. They both knew Jordan had been seeing other women while stationed there.

"We'd been on and off since high school. I went to the University of South Carolina in Columbia and got my degree in communications. I have to wait a year to get residency here, and then I'm going to apply to SDSU and get my masters in communications."

"What do you want to do?"

"News broadcasting. I'm starting an internship at KGTV next month. That means a lot of commuting to San Diego."

"It's not bad, thirty to forty minutes," Angie said.

"Jordy proposed to me last year when he came home to visit. I told him I wasn't getting married until I had my degree in my hand first."

"I know that's right," Bethany said, tossing back her Senegalese twists. "Von and I were married ten years ago. Two kids later and I'm still wishing I finished my education. I'm thinking about doing some online classes next year."

"Do it!" Angie said, patting Bethany's leg.

Nova sighed and watched Jordan play football.

Terry discreetly studied her and wondered if she knew her husband cheated on her all the time while she was in South Carolina. He couldn't let go of the disappointment he felt in Jordan who'd been his pet project for three years because the big brass felt he had the potential to be an outstanding soldier, but needed a personal hand to keep him in line. Terry took on that responsibility and kept the man under his wing. Jordan's biggest problem was his immaturity. At twenty-five, he was only two years younger than Terry, but their maturity levels were worlds apart. Nova seemed like a smart woman and had to know her man wasn't up to her level. He didn't want to assume anything because men often acted differently around their women sometimes. Terry just hated seeing good Black women choosing lames.

She caught him looking at her.

"You play football well," he blurted.

"Jordy and I played all the time back home. Our families are close and full of boys, so I got in to fit in. I ran track too, so that helps."

"Yeah, it does, cuz you did not let me rest out there."

They all laughed.

She kept him laughing. The others, too. Nova fit the group perfectly. She was funny and encouraging and smitten with Jordan.

While packing up, Bethany cornered Terry near his truck.

"Did you know Jordan was engaged all this time?"

"No."

"That man was at my house last month with some random woman. I feel so icky talking with his wife knowing he's been unfaithful with other women."

"Maybe they had an understanding while they were long distance."

"Stop making excuses for him, Terry. You know that's some janky ass shit to bring a wife around us out of the blue. No Black woman from here to Timbuktu is going to accept that."

"That's why we're all going to mind our business."

Bethany moved closer to him, her hard light brown eyes almost glowing in her dark brown face. She lifted an accusatory finger at him and wagged it.

"You need to have a talk with him, or else I will. You're his leader that he respects and listens to. Von would just curse him out and make things worse. Nova is a beautiful woman who deserves respect. We're lucky he brought none of those other women to our football games. Suppose one of those birds popped up today?"

"Alright…alright…I'll check in with Jordan, but I won't lecture him."

"Good. Let him know I'm watching out for Nova."

Von wandered over, carrying leftover bags of supplies.

"What are you fussing about over here?" Von asked.

"Jordan," Bethany said.

Von grit his teeth comically.

"You didn't say anything to Nova, did you?" Von asked.

"I'm not hurting a woman I just met on the first day. Terry's going to talk to him."

"Babe, we gotta stay outta other grown folk's business."

"Jordan and the word 'grown' do not compute. The man runs around town like a horny teenager," Bethany complained.

"He's married to a good woman, and she's living here with him now. Let's all be cool and act like we don't know a damn thing."

"Terry…check that man or I'm pulling the pin and blowing his shit up," Bethany said, climbing into their mini-van.

Von and Bethany left him standing alone.

Jordan and Nova embraced each other near their car.

Maybe Jordan got his dick wetting season over with and would finally settle down.

Six months passed by, and Terry didn't feel the need to say anything to Jordan. The man fell into a marriage routine that convinced even Bethany that matrimony cured his loose dick. The couple invited everyone to their new military home for a housewarming party and, seeing them together, Terry had to admit there was some growth in Jordan's behavior. He was attentive to his wife, and didn't hang at the bars with the single men as much anymore. When he did pop out, he brought Nova with him, and they left early. No more bar crawls or skirt chasing. Domestic bliss. Kevin married his fiancé during a winter wedding, and Jordan gave a moving speech about how marriage changed a man for the better. Babies were born, and other men in his circle got engaged or settled into long-term relationships. The more he looked around, the more he felt like the lone bachelor clinging to singledom.

Terry didn't want to think about a wife and kids until after he was out of the military. He had a good gig going with MCMAP. A decent wage. The respect of his peers. The freedom to come and go as he pleased with no strings. Pussy was easy to come by, and no woman was special enough to entice him into monogamy.

His schedule grew hectic as the military geared up for a new deployment. He never had to go anywhere because the Marines recognized his value in training. An elite soldier in his rank, the higher ups wanted Terry to mold thousands more just like him during his stint. He went in hard on his charges, building up the best trained soldiers he could.

Nova adjusted to California life. She and Jordan had to share the use of one car to save money for her future schooling. She'd drop Jordan off to work and make the drive to San Diego for her internship. After a month, he heard from Bethany that Nova quit the internship because it became too stressful to meet the requirements with Jordan's schedule. They couldn't afford another car at the moment because the cost of military housing had gone up.

Nova ended up taking a part-time job at a public library as she waited for her residency to kick in for school. She'd gained weight and Jordan didn't seem too happy about it. Terry thought she looked good, filling out more from living a slower lifestyle than when she was running around on a university campus. At the flag football games, they bickered a lot, and Nova stopped playing altogether, sometimes not even showing up at the park. Bethany gave Terry a look at the absence, and he finally pulled Jordan aside.

"Hey man…what's going on with you? Everything cool at home?" Terry asked nonchalantly on a park bench.

"Aw man…y'know, life is lifing. Things aren't going the way we planned…or rather, the way she planned."

"What's up with Nova?"

Jordan glanced at the grass on the ground and picked at a scratch on his knee that he injured earlier that day from falling. Terry had to pull him away from another player before a fight broke out. A dude named Marcus had simply tripped over his feet and fell into Jordan, but Jordan flipped out about it, shoving Marcus in the chest.

"Man…this marriage shit is for the birds."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't wanna talk about it, Sarge."

"That's what I'm here for, Jordan."

He gave an exasperated sigh.

"I love Nova…I really do…but lately…she's been getting on my nerves."

"How?"

"Always asking me about shit that ain't really important right now. She wants another car for school, and I told her she should postpone going to SDSU, at least until I make a higher paygrade. She got a job to pay for a new car herself. Her library gig is within walking distance, so she doesn't need to have my car during the day. I need to use it more than her."

"For what? She drops you off and picks you up every day."

"Sometimes I wanna go to the bar with the fellas after work to chill."

"Then ride with them and hitch a ride home with 'em too…or catch an Uber or a Lyft."

"Man, I ain't doing all that."

"You expect her to do that, then?"

"She don't need the car every day," Jordan grumbled. "Walking will do her good, anyway. All she's doing is getting fat."

"That's how you talk about your wife?"

Jordan sucked his teeth.

"Her ass used to be fine as hell when she first got here."

"She's still fine."

Jordan glared at him.

"You lookin' at my wife funny?"

"No, what I'm saying is, Nova is still a beautiful woman. She's a lil thicker and in case you haven't noticed, no one else is complaining when she rides on base dropping your ass off early in the morning."

"I'ma get her a gym membership on base and whip that ass back into shape."

"You foul man."

"Not trying to have a sloppy booty wife."

Terry's jaw tightened. He thought Nova looked even better with the weight gain. She started wearing large T-shirts and sweatpants more, but he and the other guys on base appreciated the extra jiggles when she walked by. His daddy always told him a well-loved woman put on weight the first few years of marriage. That's how a man knew he was taking care of his wife.

Jordan looked off into the distance and Terry turned his head to see what he was checking out. One guy had brought an extra female friend to play football, a lithe Black woman from L.A. who modeled for department store flyers.

"Jordan, I hope you're staying true to your vows with Nova and not stepping out on her."

Jordan's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"What are you talking about?"

"You heard me. We all know you were fucking around before you brought her out here. None of us knew you had a fiancé, and you brought her back like a prized jewel. Now you're acting like you want to trade her in for some outhouse pussy cuz she put on a few pounds. You shouldn't have gotten married if you're acting like this."

"Jumping to conclusions and shit—"

"Nigga, I know you. Seen with my own eyes how you move. Is that why you want the car for yourself? To sneak around on Nova?"

Jordan wouldn't look Terry in the eye.

"You really are a piece of work. Here I am thinking you finally became a real man," Terry huffed.

He stood and narrowed his eyes at Jordan.

"Get your shit together. Stop trash talking your wife and take your ass home. Buy her some flowers and candy. Spoil her for even choosing your ungrateful ass."

"Whatever, man. You wouldn't understand… you ain't never been with anybody long-term."

"Because I have the maturity to know I'm not ready to settle down. Do better. Respect your wife. Don't let me catch wind of you fucking around on her."

"You her daddy or something?"

Terry held his tongue.

Shit hit the fan on a fourth of July cookout at Nova and Jordan's house.

Terry arrived, bringing ice and his homemade salmon croquettes. He mingled with the joyous gathering of co-workers and friends. Nova played the cheerful hostess, wearing a red, white, and blue summer dress that accentuated her new curves. Her face looked rounder, and she kept tugging on the back of her dress.

"This thing keeps riding up," Nova joked with Bethany.

"Welcome to the world of big booty life," Bethany said, patting her own high shelf donk.

Terry played d.j. with the music, synching his phone with the sound system. He put together a Black Barbecue playlist and let Frankie Beverly and Maze remind people of their childhoods. Bethany shouted and raised her hands when Roy Ayer's "Everybody Loves the Sunshine" popped on and the music fit the vibe of Black folks getting brown in the sunshine of the Patterson's backyard cookout.

Kevin handed Terry a glass of beer from the keg someone brought for the occasion. He gulped it down to cool off and watched the ecstatic faces around him. Life was good.

Terry's friend Raymond arrived with a bunch of people bearing drinks and lemon meringue pies. Jordan and Nova stood near him and greeted the new guests. Terry noticed Jordan's shifty eyes as he tried to ignore Lourdes, a Mexican chick known to Terry's crew as a pass around good time.

"I remember you," Lourdes purred, rubbing her hand up Jordan's arm.

Jordan grinned and nervously threw an arm around Nova's waist.

"Hey, good seeing you at another cookout…this is my wife, Nova," Jordan said.

"Hi," Nova said.

"Wife?" Lourdes squeaked.

Nova's lips pressed tightly together and Lourdes fluttered her eyes back to Jordan.

"Haven't seen you at Ringer's for a minute. Thought you got deployed," Lourdes said.

Nova glared at Jordan and stomped away.

Terry switched the music to upbeat, loud fun, and a few people started dancing. Jordan went after Nova. Lourdes grabbed a glass of beer from Raymond and flitted among the men, ignoring the other women completely.

Terry heard shouting from in the house and he followed behind Bethany and Von to check it out. Inside the kitchen, Nova screamed at Jordan, who only leaned against the kitchen island with a grim expression.

"Nova…Jordan? Everything okay in here?" Bethany asked.

Nova's wet face and agitated state told the complete story. Terry looked at Jordan.

"He's a liar…and a cheat. His hoe is walking around my home!" Nova screamed.

Jordan lowered his head. Terry was glad the man had an ounce of shame in him.

"I told you that bitch was from a long time ago. You're making a big deal about a past relationship," Jordan said.

"Past relationship? Jordan, we've been together forever! You promised that you were done disrespecting me. I should've listened to my friends and never come out here!"

Nova grabbed a glass from the dish rack near the sink and threw it at Jordan. It clipped him in the head.

"Nova…fuck!" he screeched.

Jordan lunged forward to stop her from throwing a dish, but Terry stepped between them, blocking him with his back.

"Okay, let's all calm down," Terry said.

Von put an arm around Jordan's shoulder and walked him out of the kitchen. Bethany stayed behind.

"I'll tell Raymond to get that woman out of here," Terry said.

Bethany nodded, and Nova burst into tears.

"Oh, sweetie…let the men handle this," Bethany said, hugging Nova.

Terry sought Von and Jordan.

Lourdes and Raymond left in a hurry with their group, and everyone at the party gossiped in hushed tones as music continued blasting. On the side of the house, Von cursed out Jordan whose only response was, "I know…I know…I know…"

"Are you still fucking Lourdes?" Terry asked.

"That shit is old. Ain't my fault Raymond brought her over here. I didn't invite that woman."

"How old?" Terry asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"I dead that shit back in January."

"January? Nigga, you're married!" Von shouted.

"Keep your voice down," Jordan said.

Terry stuck a finger in his face.

"You betta not trip when she leaves your ass," Terry said.

"She ain't going nowhere."

"Why not?"

Jordan closed his eyes and rested his head against the side of his house.

"She's pregnant."

Von and Terry groaned and rolled their eyes.

"See, niggas like you is why Black women hate us now," Von barked.

"I'm gonna change…watch and see. I gotta man up now…I'ma be a father and my kid needs his father."

"If she were smart, she'd abort and go home," Von said.

"Von…yo…ease up, man," Terry said.

"Nah, T…Jordan doesn't want a wife…and he damn sure don't deserve no children with how he acts toward Nova. I wouldn't be surprised if Bethany is in there now telling her the same thing! I oughta kick your punk ass."

"Stand down, Washington," Terry said, using Von's surname in a tone used at work.

Von threw up his hands and walked away. Jordan pushed past Terry and entered a side door that went into the garage and back into the house. Terry followed.

Nova stood in the kitchen with Bethany. Terry nodded his head for Bethany to leave, and he posted up by the fridge to watch over Jordan.

"Baby, I'm sorry. Please…don't make that face. I know I'm always sorry about shit and I hurt you. Don't abort my baby."

Nova glanced at Terry. The pregnancy had been a secret, apparently.

"Get out of my face," Nova said.

"Nova—"

Terry put a hand on Jordan's shoulder.

"Give her some space, c'mon."

He led Jordan back to the party. Everyone else partied on, ignoring the messy marital discord. Jordan drank some beer and joined Kevin and Von in a corner with some married men. Terry sauntered over to the food table and made himself a plate. Bethany had smoke coming out of her ears, commiserating with other women.

The mood had soured within the hour, and folks gathered to-go plates and said their goodbyes. Terry made himself a plate of pork ribs and macaroni salad with a couple of hot links thrown on top for good measure. Kevin took Jordan to his house for the night with his wife, Vivian, to keep him away from Nova. They both needed to sleep apart and figure out their situation in the morning.

Terry held up a hand to everyone left behind and headed out. Two blocks down the street, the glare of the sunset struck his eyes. He reached for the top of his head and couldn't find his sunglasses. Pulling over, he searched the truck seat to see if they fell off. Then he remembered. He put them down on the patio table at Jordan's. If they had been cheap drugstore shades, he would've let it go. But they were three hundred dollar wrap-around Oakley's.

He made a U-turn and parked in the Patterson driveway. Sneaking toward the side of the house, he crept toward the high wooden gate that led to the yard. He wanted to run in and out of the backyard without disturbing Nova.

The gate was locked.

He walked back to the front and rang the doorbell.

Nova answered with pink eyes, still wearing her holiday dress.

"Hey…Nova…sorry to bother you, but I left my shades in your backyard. Can I go get them?"

"Sure," she said, stepping aside.

Terry moved through the living room and into the kitchen, pushing on the sliding glass doors. He found his shades perched on a speaker. He tucked them into the neck of his t-shirt and looked at the other speaker.

"I can move these back in the house for you," he offered.

Nova nodded. He didn't want her straining to carry them. It took him less than a minute to move them and the cords inside the living room. Jordan could set them back up when he returned home.

"All done. See ya next time," he said.

Nova nodded with her back to him, facing the kitchen sink. Her shoulders shook and Terry felt awkward being there while she cried.

"You'll be okay, right? Maybe call a friend over?" he suggested.

"What friends? Everyone is Jordan's friend."

"Bethany?"

She shook her head.

"I can't bother her. She has kids and stuff to do. I'll be okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Thanks for bringing the speakers in."

"No problem…alright. I'm going to bounce."

Nova turned her head to the side.

"Everyone knew, didn't they? That he's been cheating on me this entire time?"

"Nova…uh…"

She glanced at him with glossy eyes and a crinkle in her forehead.

"You don't have to lie to me, too, Terry. I've always suspected, but couldn't prove it back home. He swore up and down that he's been faithful and only loved me. Jordan made me look like the biggest dumb fool today. How many other women have come through my house and fucked my husband while smiling in my face?"

"We thought he would change…we didn't even know about you until you arrived a year ago."

"Not one of you said anything."

Terry moved over to the sink and stood next to her.

"Look, a few of us talked about it. Bethany wanted to tell you from day one, but we…the fellas…we thought Jordan would shape up. It became a matter of us not wanting to hurt you."

She closed her eyes. A single tear ran down her face. He felt like shit.

"Bros before hoes," she said.

"It's fucked up, but…yeah, that's what it came down to. None of us wanted this for you."

"Well… I got it, anyway."

Her face crumpled. She covered her eyes with her right hand.

"He's not attracted to me anymore…I've gained all this weight…now I'm pregnant and can't trust anyone around me!"

Her cry of pain bruised his insides.

Terry stood paralyzed next to her, not wanting to be inappropriate, although he thought he was supposed to hug her or something. No comforting words came to mind that sounded good enough for her. He pulled out his cell phone and called Von.

"Yo…man…can you put Bethany on the phone? I'm at Jordan's place and Nova is having a hard time…Bethany? Hey, can I ask for a big favor? Could you come over to Nova's? Yeah…it's bad…okay. Okay. Thanks."

He swiped his phone and stuck it in his back pocket.

"Bethany is coming over right now—"

Nova pushed her face against his chest and wept. The top of her hair tickled his chin, and he held his arms out, not knowing where to place them. He finally hugged her, and she broke down more, her warm tears soaking his shirt.

"I'm sorry you're going through this, Nova…I really am."

He stroked her back as she poured her wounded soul into his broad chest.

"Shh…shh…it hurts bad now, but it'll pass…I promise…" he whispered to her.

She nodded and leaned back, wiping her face.

"You're too pretty to be scrunching up your face like you tasted some lemons," he teased.

Nova laughed and blinked away tears.

He became cognizant that he still held her close against him. She smelled like sugar cookies and all the weight Jordan complained about felt good in his arms.

"Your smile lights up a room, and if that fool can't appreciate it, someone else will," he said.

Nova gazed into his eyes. With her hair up in a bun, Terry could enjoy every part of her sweet face. They'd never been that close together, and he became self-conscious. He dropped his hands to his sides, but kept his eyes on hers. Nova stood on tip-toe and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you for caring so much," she said.

Uncomfortable. That was the first feeling that ran through him. He shouldn't be there with her. Alone. Seconds ticked by and they both stood there, looking at one another. Her eyes focused on his lips and she kissed him on the mouth.

Like an idiot, he kissed her back, parting his lips so her tongue could probe his mouth and find the comfort she needed. She didn't hold back, circling his neck with her arms and pressing into him hard, wanting to feel his muscles against her heavenly frame. Terry tilted his head more and thrust his tongue further into her mouth. He swallowed the soft moan Nova released against his lips. He licked her bottom lip and kissed her fully until they both started moaning from the illicit encounter.

One nasty thought kicked around in his brain.

He could fuck her raw and cum all inside her. Since she was already pregnant, there'd be no need to have a condom barrier to prevent knocking her up. His breeding kink revved up, and he seriously thought about fucking Nova in her marital bed to teach Jordan a lesson. Fill her up with his cum…treat her the way she deserved to be treated by a real man who appreciated a woman no matter what her size was. Jordan was crazy to think a once slender Nova didn't compete with the thicker one in his arms. And she was about to get even bigger while pregnant?

His dick got hard.

Nova felt it poking against her.

"We gotta stop," he whispered into her mouth.

"Why? I should be allowed to get my lick back with someone better than my husband."

Terry pulled away, afraid of the consequences if Nova kept talking to him reckless like that.

His erection tented his pants. It was undeniable how much he wanted her. Nova licked her lips, staring at the thick bulge she could have. She boldly reached out and touched it…squeezed it to see how big it was. He moaned, and she ran her fingers up and down his length, teasing him until she reached the wide head that strained against his zipper. Pulling her fingers away, he had to take a stand or else they'd do something that couldn't be undone.

"Bethany will be here. I better go."

Terry swiftly parted from her and rushed to his truck. The irrational part of his mind wanted to lay some good pipe down on her. He wiped her lipstick off of his mouth once he sat in the driver's seat. His dick throbbed in his pants.

Nova was married. Calm the fuck down.

Yes, Jordan Patterson was a selfish knucklehead, but that didn't mean snatching up the man's wife because he dogged her out.

Terry started his car and drove away before Bethany showed up. He spent the next two days relaxing in his bachelor's quarters on base. At work, he ran into Jordan briefly, but it was in passing to teach one of his martial arts classes. Jordan looked sheepish and apologetic, and Terry just gave a nod and kept on moving.

He skipped two weeks of flag football, not wanting to hear gossip or run into Nova. No one questioned his non-socializing. He sometimes dropped out of sight when his workload increased to cover staff leave or new training.

A third week of avoiding his friends continued, and his phone rang with a number he didn't recognize. He answered without thinking.

"Hello?"

"Hi Terry. It's me…Nova."

"Nova…hey…I don't—"

"I'm sorry. If you're avoiding everyone because of me…you don't have to stay away from your friends. I kissed you and it was wrong. I made things weird for you."

Terry sighed.

"I don't want any problems, Nova. You and Jordan have to sort your relationship out without adding more trouble."

"I don't know why I did that, Terry. You were just being kind, and I liked how you made me feel…wanted. Seen. I'm two months pregnant and my hormones could be messing with me, too. I want to apologize and ask that you not hide anymore. It makes me feel awful, like I chased you away being inappropriate when I was feeling low."

"It's understandable…but I really have been busy. Don't stress out about anything. That night has been forgotten."

"Good."

"See you around," he said.

He hung up and deleted her number from his phone.

Hearing her voice did something to him. He called up Von and went to his house to have a beer and catch up. Bethany wasn't home, so the men could chat openly without her chiming in or judging.

"How's Jordan been doing with Nova?"

"Hard to say, really. They seem okay. But he's at the bar after work a lot. Kevin hung out with him a few times. Tried talking sense into him. Looks like they're going to work things out."

"Good for them."

"He's being deployed to the Indo-Pacific at the end of the year."

Terry exhaled with a loud breath.

"Damn, that sucks. He'll miss the birth."

"Yep. But distance has a way of making the heart grow fonder. That's what they say, right?"

"With Jordan, it seems to do the opposite."

"He wants Nova to go back to South Carolina while he's gone. She wants to stay here."

"She doesn't have a support system here, though."

"Bethany has adopted her as the little sister she always wanted. Nova is good people. We'll look after her."

Terry left Von and took a drive up the coast to see a friend in Long Beach. He returned to Camp Pendleton and got a fresh line-up from his barber and hooked up with his buds for a baseball viewing party at an on-base pub. The Padres lost, and he ended up playing pool for the rest of the night, listening to tall tales and body counts among his peers. Unexpectedly, Jordan and Nova showed up to hang out.

He couldn't look at her the same way.

She'd fixed her hair into a sexy new pixie cut that had soft gelled waves making her look like a starlet and even more attractive. Their eyes met and something definitely changed between them. All he could think about was their kiss, and the way she wanted to feel on his dick. Her dewy gaze told him she was thinking the same thing, too. Terry avoided saying too much to her, giving a polite 'Hello' to them both before locking into his pool shots.

Jordan guzzled down beer and hammed it up with a few officers. Nova wandered over to his pool table, nursing a soda. She sipped and watched him play against his friend Luis, then slipped a quarter onto the end of the table, signaling she had the next game against whoever won. Of course, it was him because Luis was a lousy shot most of the time.

Nova chose a pool stick and chalked it down, eyeing him curiously with a playful smile. Terry glanced around, hoping someone else wanted to play instead, but the guys were too busy drinking and talking loud. The pub overflowed with patrons, blocking him and Nova from view of the others. He checked the watch on his arm.

"Gotta run. Early day tomorrow," he said.

He placed his pool stick on the rack and wiped his hands of chalk dust. Nova pursed her lips and her shoulders drooped. He forced himself to leave. Looking at her only increased a forbidden desire, and he'd be damned if he fell for a woman simply for lust. He had a roster of willing women on his phone if he needed sexual relief that badly. Nova was danger, and he read the warnings clearly.

He walked toward housing with hands shoved deep in his pants pockets. All he had to do was stay away from Jordan and their mutual friends until he deployed. Then he'd have no reason to worry about ever seeing Nova. By then, she'd have a baby and no longer feel like hanging out anywhere he'd likely be. The woman dredged up feelings he wasn't used to, like longing and nesting up with someone away from his male companions on base. Jordan Patterson had to be the luckiest motherfucker in the world and couldn't even appreciate what he had at his fingertips: a good woman who loved him with a pure heart.

Terry's parents raised him with morals and values. Thou shall not covet and Thou shall not commit adultery. Such simple tenets and yet his salacious mind quibbled over semantics, searching for loopholes. Could he really covet someone if the husband didn't really want the wife? If a husband broke the marital bond first, should the wife stay beholden to the rules? He shook his head, blaming the rambling thoughts on all the beer he drank. His brain marinated in liquor. Any unscrupulous thoughts he entertained weren't to be taken seriously. He believed that for a full thirty days, Nova-free.

Until the day Von called him over to hang out.

Bethany was out for the day with friends, and his kids were at a summer camp for the week. Von wanted to enjoy a house without his family in the presence of his best bud, and Terry was all for it. Bethany always bought the best snacks, so Terry and Von hunkered down, stuffing their faces with chips, Ding Dongs, string cheese, and Pepsi. They watched some action flicks and talked shit about their jobs and the people who irked them that week. Von and Terry had joined the marines on the buddy system. They were friends back in a small Louisiana parish and had each other's backs ever since. Terry was the one to introduce Von to Bethany. They attended a beach party in Mission Beach and Bethany hemmed Terry up, asking about his friend with the big chocolate malt ball-looking head and thick muscles. From that moment on, Terry, Von, and Bethany had become a family.

Von tapped his TV remote and flipped through a series of military espionage flicks. Terry leaned back and shoved a Hostess cupcake down his throat. The front door flung open and Bethany walked in carrying bags with Nova.

"Time to go," Terry said.

"No…stay. We've got Chinese food and wine. Where you been, stranger?" Bethany asked.

Von jumped up to help put the bags in the kitchen. Bethany gave Terry a kiss on the cheek. He nodded at Nova.

The woman glowed.

Ringlets of shiny black curls crowned her short cut and her skin looked like someone had dusted it with a light bronzer. Her white baby doll tank top and jean shorts reminded him of the Creole girls back home who walked to the corner store looking cute and summery.

"Wash up you two. We'll eat and catch up," Bethany ordered.

Terry headed for the nearest bathroom, and Nova followed him. He let her wash her hands first while he waited against the doorjamb. They switched places. She stared at his reflection in the mirror.

"It's good seeing you again, Terry. Jordan asks about you a lot."

"Been busy…work…y'know."

"Yeah. Guess you heard the news, huh? He's being shipped out. Bad timing for us…with the baby coming, and all."

He nodded and dried his hands.

"Excuse me," he said, stepping past her into the hallway.

"I'm sorry if I make you uncomfortable…still."

"We're good."

He walked into the dining room where Bethany set up plates and Von poured white wine into three glasses.

"We put sparkling cider in your glass," Von said, winking at Nova.

Everyone sat down and passed around different containers of shrimp fried rice, chow mein, garlic paper chicken, and sweet and sour pork. They chowed down and talked, and Terry settled into falling for Nova against his will. A year of living in Oceanside had made her appear more confident and comfortable, and she didn't seem all that daunted by the idea of Jordan leaving. He listened to her and Bethany talk about having a baby shower before Jordan left, and they discussed birthing centers and hospitals. Nova genuinely looked happy, and Terry relaxed being with her. Any lascivious thoughts he had in the past about her left his mind. Bethany and Von treated her like family, and he fell in line with the sentiment. One indiscretion didn't doom him. He could turn the page and start fresh with Nova.

After dinner, Nova and Bethany went into the garage while Terry and Von cleaned up the dishes and put away leftovers. They sauntered back into the living room to watch more TV. Bethany and Nova passed them carrying boxes into the den.

"What's all that?" Von asked

"My old maternity clothes. I told you there was a good reason to keep them. Nova and I are going to look through these and find some things for her to take," Bethany said.

"Take it all, please!" Von joked.

Terry lounged on the couch, half watching the TV. He peeked at Nova and Bethany. The women chatted with excited voices and Bethany held up old clothing against Nova's body. Bethany kept drinking wine and snorting as she told maternity stories about birthing her own two girls. Nova sounded nervous and excited about welcoming a little one. He overheard her telling Bethany that the baby wasn't planned, but she hoped it would bring Jordan around to be a better man. Bethany tried to reassure her, but Terry doubted she believed a word she said to the younger woman.

It grew late, and Terry didn't want to overstay his welcome.

"I'ma head on out."

He slapped hands with Von and grabbed his keys from the coffee table.

"Terry, can you drop Nova at her house with the clothes?" Bethany asked.

Terry stood at the front door like a deer caught in headlights.

"I've had too much wine to be driving, plus it's on your way back to base," Bethany said.

She handed Terry a box to carry. Nova carried the second box.

"I can call an Uber," Nova said.

"Save your money, girl. Terry is right here and he can carry the boxes for you. Do you want to take some leftover Chinese food with you?"

"No thank you," Nova said.

"Terry?" Bethany said.

"No, I'm full and Chinese doesn't taste all that good heated back up to me."

Bethany took the large box from Nova and followed Terry out to his truck. They placed the maternity clothes in the truck bed. He opened the passenger door for Nova and she climbed in using the grab handle on his truck. Bethany patted his back.

"Thank you for taking her home. I don't feel safe taking a chance, plus it's supposed to rain in twenty minutes. Your truck is a battalion. Baby on board!"

Bethany hugged him. He accepted the affection.

"I owe you," she said.

Bethany tapped on the window, getting Nova's attention.

"Make sure you wash everything," Bethany said.

Nova nodded. Bethany leaned in toward him so Nova couldn't hear.

"Check on Jordan, will ya? Vivian told me he's been hanging with Kevin after work. I don't know why he's acting like he doesn't want to go home, but Nova needs his support."

Terry sighed and nodded.

"Truth is, I can drive, but I know if I see that man, I'll hurt his feelings. You know how to get through to him," she said.

"Night," he said.

Terry walked to the driver's side and climbed in. He started the car and lowered the air conditioning he had blasted earlier.

"Ready?" he said, trying to sound chipper.

"Yep."

They rode in silence, listening to the radio. It started sprinkling and traffic on the I-5 freeway slowed. By the time they neared her home, there was a full on downpour with sonic booms of thunder that rattled the truck. Nova cowered in her seat. With each thunderous clap, she jumped and trembled. The storm gathered gray ominous clouds that pressed the bolts of lightning lower in the atmosphere. Silver heat sliced erratic zig-zag lines across the horizon. The weather even made Terry feel uneasy. They arrived at her home just as a heavier shower drenched the roads.

"Go open the door, and I'll bring the boxes in," he said.

She hopped out with a mad dash to the front door. He lifted both the wet boxes from the back of his truck and strode indoors, expecting to see Jordan. No one else was in the house.

"Just bring those back here," she said.

She led him to the second bedroom that they were turning into a nursery. He placed the boxes against the closet door.

"Thank you for doing this…bringing me home and carrying all of that."

"No problem."

He glanced around and noticed cute little cartoon animal pictures on the walls. A brand new crib sat in an unopened box near the wall.

"I see you two are getting ready for the new bundle of joy," he said.

"Yeah, Jordan has a few things to put together for me. I am terrible at assembling stuff. We have a whole shelving unit and a baby play center waiting in the garage, still in boxes, too."

He followed her back into the living room. Nova shook rainwater off of her and checked her smartphone. She frowned. Her fingers flew across the text pad.

"Something wrong?"

"Jordan was supposed to be here by now."

She tapped her phone, and Terry heard the dial tone ring. A voice recording came on.

"Jordy, I'm back home. Where are you? Call me and let me know you're on your way back."

Nova placed the phone on a side table and wrung her hands. Hard rain pelted the roof. She pulled a curtain back from the front window.

"It's really coming down," she said.

Her voice carried the strain of worry.

"Jordy isn't a good driver in the rain…" she murmured.

She tried his number once more. Voicemail again. She didn't bother to leave a message.

"You mind if I use your restroom before I go?" he asked.

Nova nodded and sat down on her couch. Another powerful rumble vibrated across her roof. She turned on her TV and tried to ignore the sound outside. Her shoulders trembled.

Terry went to the guest bathroom, closed the door, and pulled out his phone. He called Jordan. The line rang four times and Jordan picked up.

"W'sup, sarge? Where you at? Come through Kevin's way, we're chopping it up over here."

Terry's jaw grew tight. The man ignored his wife but answered his phone for a friend? Trifling.

"I dropped your wife off at home. She's worried about you. You sound drunk and it's raining."

"Why did you drop her off? She's supposed to be with Bethany."

"Bethany was too tipsy to drive and asked me to drop Nova off on my way home. You need to answer your wife's calls."

"All she does is nag me. Every time I turn around, she wants me to put stuff together. We got six more months until the baby gets here."

"Call your wife…now."

Terry hung up and called Kevin.

"You missing out over here, Terry. Got a good spades game—"

"Kev, how sober is Jordan? Is he good to drive or nah?"

"That dude is buzzing."

"Don't let him drive. When the rain dies down, put him in an Uber and send his ass home."

"What's going on, man?"

"He needs to be with his wife. She's worried, and he's not answering her calls. The storm is scaring her, too."

"He said he talked to her."

"He's lying. She called him twice in front of me and he ignored her. I called, and he picked up."

Kevin sighed on the other end.

"This nigga…I'll have him call her."

"Right now, Kev."

"Okay. On it."

Kevin hung up. Terry flushed the toilet. He quickly washed his hands in the sink.

"I should not be babysitting a grown ass man," he mumbled to his reflection.

He took a deep breath and left the bathroom. Nova paced in the living room, arguing with Jordan on her cell. He eased his way toward the door, happy that they were at least talking to one another. Terry's phone vibrated in his pocket. Kevin.

"Aye, I'm going to keep Jordan here for the night. He's talking crazy to Nova on the phone," Kevin said.

Terry could only hear Jordan's muffled voice and Nova's bawling.

Fuck.

"What's he saying?"

"He's drunk off his ass…blaming her for fussing all the time and putting us in their business. All bullshit. Vivian thinks he might act up if he goes home."

Nova threw her phone on the couch and dashed down the hallway.

"Okay. Make sure he's back here in the morning."

Terry swiped his phone and waited by the front door.

"Nova? Kevin is going to keep Jordan at his place until tomorrow. He won't be driving in the rain."

"He can crash into a pole for all I care!"

He heard footsteps and the bathroom door slamming shut. The shower ran. She had a right to be upset. But it wasn't good for the baby. Terry's sister had miscarried from stress in her first trimester. Overactive hormones and an unhappy home weren't a good mix. He walked into the kitchen and searched a few cupboards and a pantry until he found some hot cocoa packets and tea. The cocoa seemed like the best choice for her. He turned on an electric kettle and ripped open a cocoa packet. Finding a decent mug, he mixed hot water, milk and cocoa together. Thunder kept rumbling and a flash of lightning streaked outside the kitchen window.

Nova stepped out of the bathroom wearing a thick red bathrobe. She smoothed back her damp hair, and he held out the hot cocoa to her.

"This should help you calm down," he said.

She padded over to him and took the mug, cradling it against her robe.

"Thank you. For everything."

He nodded.

"Could you stay here for a few more minutes and talk? I don't want to be alone just yet…I get scared of thunder. Jordan usually calms me down, but when I'm alone listening to it…I get nervous…scared. I know nothing will happen to me, but the booming noises…I've always been afraid of that sound. You can watch TV if you don't feel like talking."

Her tremulous voice brought out the protector in him.

"I'm sure there's a late-night horror movie I can watch to go with the weather," he said.

She grinned with relief all over her face.

He joined her on the couch and picked out the Twilight Zone on a streaming service. They watched a couple of episodes while Nova sipped the cocoa. The TV froze for about fifteen minutes, and they chatted about her day with Bethany. She jumped with each thunderclap, but having him next to her seemed to help her deep-rooted fear. Eventually, the TV started working again.

"A lot of these episodes have soldiers or talk about war a lot," she said.

He nodded.

"Rod Serling fought in World War Two. I read a biography about him a few years ago. He used war themes as an allegory in a lot of his episodes."

"Interesting," she said. "Oh! This is one of my favorite episodes…that guy is a prisoner on a planet and has to live with a robot."

"I remember it. He falls in love with her."

"But he can't keep her when he's freed…not enough room on the return space ship."

She put the cocoa mug on the end table.

"So sad. Do you think you could love a robot?"

"Maybe…if it looked real enough. People fall in love with all kinds of things."

"Like in that movie 'Her'. When that guy fell for an app program," she said.

"That was a good movie. Had me looking at my phone apps different. I have one that does a guided meditation and the A.I. voice has a female British accent. I think it's a Black woman…the voice sounds so sexy, telling me what to do."

They both laughed.

"I think your voice would be good for a guided meditation," she said.

"Maybe. People tell me it's deep enough to do voice overs."

"Let's try it."

"What?"

"Do a guided meditation for me so I will fall asleep and you can go home. I know you're tired of sitting here with me being a scardy cat."

"I don't think you're a scardy cat. A chicken maybe…"

She tossed a decorative pillow at him.

"Lay back in a comfortable position," he said.

He moved away from the couch and planted himself on the loveseat, allowing her to stretch out.

"Close your eyes," he said.

She did.

"Imagine that you're on a faraway island somewhere…there's a warm, sunny beach with clear waters for as far as the eye can see. Lie down on the soft warm sand…let the warmth of the sand cover you completely in a blanket of peace. No storms…no worries about thunder…just peace and tranquility…"

Terry kept talking and Nova settled into breathing deeply and relaxing her limbs.

"You can feel yourself floating to a safe place of calm…"

Nova drifted off to sleep.

Terry sat on the loveseat, quietly watching over her. The tension in her face relaxed while she slept. He glanced around at the other furniture, looking for a blanket or throw cover. Nothing caught his eye. He lifted Nova and carried her into a neat bedroom. The curtains were open and another pass of rolling thunder shook the window. Fat drops of rain smacked against the glass, fogging it up with condensation. He placed Nova on the high, queen-sized bed and closed the curtains. Feeling around for the lamp on the nightstand, he turned on a light and pulled the covers back. He reached across the bed and lifted her again. The bathrobe looked cumbersome on her. He untied the belt to make her more comfortable and didn't realize she was naked underneath. Embarrassed, he covered her back up and tied the belt, tucking her in.

Nova's eyes fluttered open.

"Jordan?" she said.

Her eyes adjusted to the light and peered at him with surprise. She glanced at the bed and then the room. Her eyes watered.

"He's probably with someone else right now," she whispered. "All of his friends cover for him."

She squeezed her eyes shut. Terry sat down on the bed and held her. He stroked her hair and murmured comforting words in her ear. All he wanted to do was erase the sadness in her eyes.

A slow-burning anger simmered in Terry's chest. He couldn't understand Jordan. Couldn't understand the neglect of a good woman. What was the point of getting married if you didn't want to be around your wife?

Terry kicked off his shoes and socks and climbed onto the bed, resting his large body next to Nova. If Jordan didn't want to be there, then he would take his place and comfort a lonely wife. She tucked her head under his neck and he rubbed her back with gentle hands.

"You deserve so much more, Nova," he said.

"I think I'll go back home," she huffed into his chest.

"Do what you think is best for you and your baby."

"I've tried my best…but he won't stop…I don't know what he sees in those other women. Why would he ask me to marry him? Why get me pregnant if that isn't what he wanted?"

"All you have to do is rest. In the morning, you can call your people and decide what you want to do."

"Okay," she said with a shuddery breath.

She snuggled against him, and he moved the blankets to make more room for himself.

That's when she did the unthinkable.

Took off the bathrobe.

Terry froze.

Nova tossed the bathrobe on the floor and tugged on his shirt.

"Take it off. You're still a little damp from the rain," she said.

He pulled the T-shirt over his head. Fuck it…he took his sweatpants off, too. He tossed his boxers and sweats on the floor, and in the lamplight, Nova looked over his body with heat in her eyes. She traced his right pec with her finger, and then curled against his side, hugging him. Her breasts pressed against him like soft, fluffy pillows. He looked down at her pretty brown areolas and dared to touch a nipple. Nova leaned back so he could get access to both breasts.

God…she felt so good in his hands. Her nipples stiffened like cute little buttons, and his dick thickened. Any thoughts of right or wrong flew away from his mind. Jordan didn't want to be in the bed with her. He did.

He fondled her breasts, getting more aroused as she sighed with pleasure, enjoying his large hands. What a difference a year made in her body. The once slender physique filled out into a new form, one that had his dick propped up saluting her. He glanced between her legs. Her trimmed thatch of pubic hair looked so pretty, especially with her inner labia plumped up and waiting for his touches. He kissed her first, sliding his tongue into her mouth. She moaned and her legs fell open wider. The pink of her pussy glistening with arousal had him gripping his dick and stroking himself. Nova's eyes widened, looking at the size of his erection out in the open. Whatever she thought his dick length was didn't match what her eyes feasted on.

She started playing with her pussy, and Terry groaned so loud that her opening throbbed at the sound. Nova pushed him back and crawled on top of him, letting her wet pussy lips slide up and down his erection. She made the veins on his dick shiny with her slickness.

Up and down she went across his length, teasing the bulbous head of his dick. His pre-cum spilled out, adding more lubricant, and that's how she pleasured herself, grinding slowly on his dick, letting her delicate inner labia slide across the hardness.

She rose and wound her hips, moving that wet pussy in circles, teasing his hardness, making him pant like a desperate man. Her tits hung in his face, doubled in size from the first time he met her. He thrust up to get more exterior friction from her labia. The inner pussy lips spread across his girth, making slippery sounds. She looked at his long dick slathered in her clear sticky fluid. He watched threads of it shine in the light. She rubbed those sticky lower lips against him harder, rocking her hips forward and back.

Nova liked what she felt.

Her mouth became reckless.

"It wouldn't be wrong for us to fuck, Terry. I want to feel you inside of me," she said.

He grabbed her breasts and squeezed them. "Nova…shit," he said.

"Will you fuck me?" she asked.

She started gyrating on his dick and her labia hit a spot that curled his toes. The thick ridge of his frenulum rubbed against her clit, and Nova kept that slow, tortuous grind going.

The woman courted danger. Offered him married pussy on a platter. He'd already wandered into sketchy waters by climbing into bed with her. What the fuck did he think was going to happen doing that? He finally had to come clean with himself.

He wanted Nova.

Wanted her the first time they met. He'd been in denial about his feelings for her. Somehow she got under his skin, and Jordan made it easy by neglecting a husband's duty. He adored her from afar, always waging an internal battle to stay away, so afraid to confront what he tried to hide. Now Jordan's wife humped Terry's dick, asking to be fucked.

"Can I cum inside you without a condom?" he asked.

Nova's glassy-looking eyes were full of lust for him.

"You can cum as much as you want inside of me."

He shut his eyes. Asked God to forgive him for the disrespectful mess he was about to make in that woman's pussy. Her man wasn't due back until morning. Terry was built for long strokes and going all night. His erection grew stiffer with anticipation.

He flipped her over and kissed her passionately, allowing himself the luxury of taking his time. All pretense of being a dutiful wife left Nova. Her man had scorned her, and she wanted the forbidden fruit of new dick.

Terry kissed down her throat and in between her breasts. He sucked both nipples, using his tongue like a brush to paint the most delightful shapes all over her tits. Delving further down, he licked her pussy and kissed her clit, claiming it all for himself.

"This is all mine now," he said, while staring at her with his disarming green eyes.

Nova nodded and whimpered, "Yes…yes…yes…baby it's all yours."

He groaned into her vulva and her legs wrapped around his head. Nothing would stop him from pleasing her. He ate her pussy like a charcuterie board, smacking his lips and sampling her clit, tasting her delightful opening by thrusting the tip of his tongue in, then gliding his full lips down the middle, giving her gentle kisses. Terry gazed at her while doing it with sensual eyes that dared Nova to give in to his cravings for more. He pampered her vulva as if that night would be his only chance to have her. She came so hard on his lips that they dripped with her natural lubricant. Spent from her orgasm, Nova cried, turning her face toward the pillow.

"We can stop…if you can't handle this…we can stop and forget it ever happened," he said, trying to soothe her.

She shook her head.

"I don't want to stop. I'm just…happy. Haven't had an orgasm like that in so long. I forgot how good they can feel," she said.

She hugged him tight and bawled in his arms.

"It feels good to be wanted again, Terry…thank you."

A smidgen of guilt tried to latch hold, but he threw it off like his morals.

"Don't cry, let me make you feel even better…I'll make you forget all your troubles," he whispered in her ear.

He gently pushed her legs back and draped them over his biceps. Nova watched the head of his dick rub on her clit, testing her sensitivity. She hissed and clamped her lips together when he pushed the tip in. Her pussy was tight at the entrance, and he waited for her to relax before he pushed in further.

"Ooh…Terry…its big…oh…wait…wait…oh God…oh God…"

Nova's eyes rolled back as he thrust in deeper. She tilted her hips, and he hit the bottom of her pussy so fast that he groaned out her name. Her walls clenched around him.

"Oh, fuck, Nova…baby this pussy is so tight…you're gripping me so good baby…you been wanting this dick, huh?"

"Yes…yes…yes…"

He pumped inside of her with assured thrusts, making sure she felt every inch dedicated to her pleasure.

"Oh, you feel so good, Terry…"

He hunched down lower, wanting to feel her breasts against his chest. Everything about her made him feel giddy and alive. He wondered if this was what love felt like while making love. His heart swelled with so many emotions. Happiness, desire…even revenge. Revenge for the lack of care Jordan had for his wife. He wanted Nova to get the best dick he could offer her.

They kissed while he gave her deep dick. Their tongues colluded in an illicit affair of their own, and Nova whimpered his name inside his mouth, casting her love magic all over him. He wanted to clap her cheeks and helped her turn onto her hands and knees as his balls slapped against her ass and clit with each doggy-style thrust. She gripped the sheets tight and looked back at him with a shocked face.

"You're stretching my pussy…Terry…it's so big."

"You're taking it so good, baby…I got you."

He reached around and played with her clit, giving it slow, circular strokes. Her ass bounced with his pounding and she locked her eyes on him, wanting to watch the satisfaction on his face.

"You like it?" she asked.

She knew damn well he did by the way he grunted and cursed with each stroke.

"I love it."

"You want to cum inside me?"

His mouth fell open, and his eyes narrowed. Her walls yanked on his dick. She had something to prove. He wished he'd been the one to put a baby in her. She threw that ass back on him and his nutsack pulsed, already gearing up for a release. He wanted her on her back. He wanted to nut deep inside of her in missionary. Pretend he was making a baby with her.

"Turn around…yeah baby…on your back…ooh yes, leave your legs wide open like that," he said.

Terry made love to her like she was his woman. Nova whipped her head back and forth and when he pinned her down, they locked eyes.

"Cum inside me…please…Terry…"

Nova touched his cheek, and he closed his eyes, unable to take the intensity she poured out from her gaze. She let him get deep in her guts. Her pussy stretched around him like she belonged on his dick and no one else. He stroked her clit, and she chewed on her lip. A look of ecstasy danced in her eyes and he begged her to cum on his dick first.

She broke apart easily…endlessly. Her orgasm flushed her light brown skin in a sheen of sweat that soaked his body and the sheets. Terry watched her climax with a feeling of gratitude. God allowed him to witness her pleasure, and it captivated him.

"Nova…I'm cumming…fuck…I'm cumming…all deep in your pussy baby…you're making me nut so hard! Fuck..I want to get you pregnant myself. Ohhhhhhh! Fuuckkk!"

She babbled something incoherent, but it didn't matter. Her tight pussy rocked his fucking world. The first spurt of semen made his anus clench and a heavy outpouring of cum spilled into her like it would never stop. He dug his toes into the mattress and rode out the wave of orgasmic pleasure that flowed out of him and into her like electricity. Knowing he was filling her up with so much jizz brought on another surge of semen that knocked him off his feet. He hollered out her name and jammed a hand on the headboard to keep from falling over as a rush of contractions squeezed his balls into pussy submission.

Gasping for air, Terry blinked sweat from his eyes and leaned back, pulling his dick out.

So much cum ran out of Nova's glossy pink opening. He stretched her open so much that he could see the tunnel he made in her walls. It was all flooded with white.

"Damn," he said.

He kissed her on the lips and held her close until she had to pee. She left his side briefly and returned, giving him soft kisses on his cheeks and lips. He took a restroom break and cleaned his dick for round two. Nova was up for it. She was over three months pregnant and her body acted like it wanted to get knocked up again. He let her ride his dick, and he enjoyed her so much it made his heart ache. Perhaps it was the illicit nature of the sex and the danger of Jordan walking in on them, but Terry and Nova made wild love like the night would never end.

"You're so beautiful. Look how pretty you look fucking my dick…such a good girl riding this big dick like that. Oh, bounce on it…yesssss…just like that. Let me stretch you out some more. Go up…all the way up…hold it…now slide back down…yes…you love this dick…dontcha? Tell me…tell me you love this dick."

"I love this dick…oh Terry…I love this dick…harder…fuck me harder."

"You sound like you want me to make another mess in that tight pussy."

"I do…oh! Right there!"

"Right there? Like that?"

"Yes!"

The give and take was unreal and by their final tryst, he'd drained his balls while holding her breasts in reverse cowgirl. He imagined her big tits spurting milk for the baby and nutted so hard that his eyes crossed. Nova leaned forward so he could watch his cum flow out of her in creamy rivulets. She helped push it out. He wiggled his fingers inside her to feel his liquid warmth coating her walls. He helped her change the ruined sheets afterward, and they snuggled up like husband and wife.

He put her to sleep and spent the last hours of the night watching over her and stroking her hair. By morning, he gave her a big kiss on her forehead and snuck away as she slept.

He thought their night together would be a onetime thing.

How wrong he had been.

That one night created a bond so tight that it was difficult to function anymore around their friends with normal interactions. He hated for her to be stuck with Jordan, and he hated being around them together because his eyes never stayed off of her. She was the same way. Any mention of leaving Jordan and going back to South Carolina never happened again. They had embarked on something that neither of them wanted to end. Her pregnancy didn't hamper anything. It actually enhanced their encounters.

At flag football games they pretended to be casual, but the longing gazes between them became overt and he ended up wearing his Oakley shades a lot. Von and Bethany threw more late summer barbecues at their home and he'd sneak into the bathroom to meet up with Nova just to kiss and fondle her body.

"I miss you," she'd whisper.

"I miss you more."

She sat on the closed toilet seat and sucked his dick, squeezing his balls and swallowing his load.

Her baby bump started showing by early fall, and he fucked her from behind in her own kitchen while Jordan sat outside in his backyard talking to their mutual male friends.

Terry was brazen about it.

Nova washed dishes in the sink, and he pretended to make a private call on his cell. He unfastened his jeans. The guys joked around outside, getting drunk and telling bawdy overseas stories. He lifted Nova's dress and slid her panties to the side, stuffing his heavy dick inside her pussy. She panted and begged for more. He clutched a breast with one hand and palmed her rounded belly with the other.

"You miss this dick?" he breathed into her ear.

"Always, baby. You make my pussy feel so good."

She watched the back of her husband's head as Jordan laughed it up, not knowing his wife's pussy was getting smashed to smithereens three feet away. He pumped in and out, listening to the squelching noises and enjoying the tight squeezes she gave him with each lewd thrust.

"The baby okay?" he asked.

"It's okay…oh Terry, you feel so good. I wish we could fuck in the bed. I want to ride your dick so bad right now."

"I know, baby. But we have to enjoy this for now."

She whimpered and clutched the sink for balance. He tried to control his moans, but her pussy weakened him.

"Ready for me to cum inside you?" he rasped in her ear.

The root of his dick pulsed, and he stopped holding her belly to stroke her swollen clit. It was sinful. So wrong. They didn't care. It felt good…felt right. He bit into her shoulder to stifle a loud groan as he spurt into her pussy. She came with him and they struggled to keep quiet, knowing that all it took to court disaster fully was for Jordan to turn around and see him pressed against his wife.

Terry pulled out, and a bit of semen fell to the floor. He didn't care. Nova fixed her panties, and they stepped away from the window so they could secretly kiss.

"I'm getting a new place soon," he said.

Her eyes lit up.

"Nothing fancy, just a one bedroom where we can be alone. Can't have you sneaking on base again," he said.

A week previous, Nova came on base during the night and they fucked in his truck. His buddy Ken walked through the parking lot to his car, but stopped when he saw Terry lifting Nova up and down in the pushed back driver's seat. Luckily, Ken didn't see her face in the darkness. Getting his own place seemed like the smartest move. They didn't want to risk hotels or motels.

Terry walked back outside with his phone in his hand and watched Nova walk out ten minutes later, bringing Jordan a beer. She sat next to her husband and Terry secretly loved the fact that Nova was full of his cum, acting like they didn't just bump uglies. He didn't care anymore. Nova was his woman…she just happened to be married to another man.

During her third trimester, Nova and Jordan planned a road trip to San Francisco for Thanksgiving. All of his friends had trips to other places. Von and Bethany planned for a trip to Indiana to see her family. Terry finally had his own place, and the day before she was to leave, Nova snuck away to see him. Their hookups became few. She waddled to the condo he ended up leasing. He waited for her by the elevator, and once she reached the third floor, they hugged each other so tight that he thought he'd never see her again. Her plump face and swollen feet made him smile.

He held her hand and walked her to his tastefully furnished home. Inside, he rubbed her feet and listened to her litany of body complaints. He didn't mind her complaining. Listening to her voice poured life into his spirit. Terry didn't realize how alone he was until Nova came into his life. Everyone in his clique had someone to come home to. He longed for the same.

He cooked Nova a healthy dinner of baked chicken and sliced squash with homemade garlic mashed potatoes the way his mama made it.

"How come you aren't going home for the holidays?" she said, stuffing her mouth with a second helping of potatoes.

"My family is going on a cruise out of New Orleans. Plus…I don't want to be far away from you."

Nova put down her fork and wiped her mouth with a napkin. He put away the food and helped her rest on his bed. She slept for a long time and he spooned around her, rubbing her belly. He loved her. Loved the child inside of her.

Terry secretly wanted her to divorce Jordan and marry him instead.

She woke up and checked her phone on his nightstand.

"Baby, I'm sorry I slept so long," she said.

"I don't mind. I just want to be with you sleeping or awake."

"My doctor said I can still have sex…we can fool around before I go."

"You feel up to it?"

"I want to make you happy."

"You lying next to me makes me happy."

She hugged him, and he cradled her in his arms.

"I feel a kick," she said.

Nova moved his hand to where she lifted her maternity shirt. He spread his long fingers across some stretch marks on her side. He smiled.

"Somebody is punching up a storm in there," he said.

Nova clutched onto his arm.

"I want to be with you for Thanksgiving. I'm going to be miserable in San Francisco," she said.

"You get to see your parents."

"I know, but then they'll be down here through Christmas. That means…"

She pushed her face into his chest.

"Aw, Nova, I know. Our time is narrowing down. We knew it would happen the closer it came time for your birth," he said.

"When the baby comes…will you leave me?"

Terry wiped tears from her face. Their whirlwind affair was taking a toll on them both. What sane man starts a romance with a married pregnant woman?

"Let's enjoy right now. Don't worry your beautiful mind about the future. We're here…now."

They kissed. He helped her undress slowly and then shook off his clothes, anchoring himself around her. Pillows eased the weight of her belly. She turned on her side further and he entered her slowly. He squeezed and fondled her breasts that were engorged with milk, ready to feed an infant. Terry imagined himself being with her while she fed the baby, imagined what it would be like to hold it in his arms. He pinched her nipple and rocked into her wet softness. Her pussy still took care of him.

Nova moaned with pleasure, and the sound heightened his arousal. Life played a cruel trick on them, bringing him the love he never knew he needed at the wrong point in time. He should've been the one to have her first. Terry would've run home to Louisiana with her in triumph, showing his family the love of his life. He would've set Nova up in a big country house and put a ton of babies in her. Her nipples leaked milk. He pinched one of them, letting the liquid express in a messy drizzle down her breast. The sight of it caused his balls to throb, and he pushed hot cum into her pussy.

"Ooh…it's so warm," Nova said.

He pinched her other nipple, and another trickle of milk wet his fingers.

"Fuck…fuck…Nova…"

His body tensed, watching her big tits drip milk while his dick pulsed inside her, shooting cum deep in her womb. He hollered out his climax loud enough for the neighbors to hear through the walls. His pelvic muscles contracted rhythmically, taking the thrusts of his hips out of his control. Another urge to ejaculate built up again, like the snapping of a rubber band back to square one.

"Soak that pussy, Terry," Nova urged him.

He obliged by resting for a minute to indulge in the sensations coursing through him by being inside of her. His ability to get another erection quickly was a blessing. He didn't worry about falling asleep on her because his refractory period was far off. Their time together was precious, and he was going to savor every second with Nova. His dick understood that and acted accordingly.

She left the bed to urinate, and they got right back to it on her return. He held her leg up the second time and she cried, telling him she loved the way he fucked her. She looked back at him.

"I love you, Terry…I love you…"

Her words struck him hard, and he roared his satisfaction by flooding her walls.

Nova's phone vibrated. They both peeped Jordan's avatar.

Terry turned away from her. Nova answered the phone, her voice flustered.

"Hey, I'm out shopping. I'll be home soon. Okay…yes, everything is packed. I put your blue tie in it with the red one… I'm calling an Uber now," she said, with rushed breath.

She hung up.

"Jordan's home. He wants to take me to dinner and leave early. It's supposed to rain tomorrow, and he wants to avoid all the traffic."

"That's smart. Gotta get you and the baby to your parents in one piece."

"I'm going to use your shower."

He nodded and watched her leave for the bathroom. The guilt and gnawing jealousy worked his nerves. He slammed a fist on the mattress and fought back uncontrollable tears.

Nova gave birth to a healthy baby boy.

Terry heard about it through Bethany. He didn't communicate with Nova while her parents were staying in Oceanside for a month.

"Your godson is on his way," Bethany said on the phone.

Terry lifted weights at the gym. He had a martial arts class to teach in an hour and needed to finish a leg day before instructing.

"Oh, yeah?"

He tried to sound normal, but his heart thumped worrying about Nova.

"This boy must've known his daddy needed to see him before he shipped out. I'll call you when he gets here. I'm in the hospital waiting room with her parents."

"Okay, thanks."

Terry grew nauseous with anxiety. Nova was a strong woman. He wanted to be by her side, but it wasn't his place. He showered and went to his class on auto-pilot. His students put it all on the mat and he compartmentalized his thoughts to focus on them and not on his lover.

Godson.

Jordan Patterson Jr. came into the world at six pounds, two ounces. Bethany sent him pictures, and Terry stared at the little wonder with awe. Jordan approached him about being the boy's godfather after they did an ultrasound and found out they were having a son. He begged off from the title, but Von and Bethany insisted he couldn't let the couple down because they looked up to him. It was a punch to the gut, but he reluctantly accepted with Von's urging.

"That man needs guidance, T. Being a godfather means you can be his role model on another level," Von said.

Terry laughed from crying. Jordan Jr. should've been Terry Jr.

He sucked it up.

Nova stayed in the hospital for two days. Terry went to visit her late in the evening, after he hoped everyone was away. Unfortunately, her mother and mother-in-law were there, fussing over Nova and the baby. He walked in carrying rainbow balloons and a powder blue teddy bear.

The new mother rested in her hospital bed breastfeeding Junior. He watched her for a moment until her eyes rose to meet his. His vision grew blurry staring at her. She was so beautiful. Nova lowered a blanket on her shoulder over the baby's head and her breast. He knocked on the door, getting the other women's attention.

"Momma, this is Terry, Junior's godfather."

Mrs. Easton, Nova's mother, smiled and welcomed him in. He greeted Jordan's mother and handed her the teddy bear and balloons.

"I can sleep on my stomach now," Nova joked.

She pulled her hospital gown back over her breast and removed the small white blanket covering the baby's face. She burped him on her shoulder first, then held him out for Terry to hold.

"Hey little dude…look at you," he said.

Nova's lips trembled, and her eyes welled up. She blinked back tears and her mother came over to kiss her goodbye.

"Visiting hours are about to end. I'm going to go have dinner with Cindy," Mrs. Easton said.

"I should go, too," he said, pretending to leave.

The two older women left first, and he waited a minute before sitting down next to Nova, cradling the baby against his chest.

"He's a beautiful boy, Nova. You did good, baby."

"Thank you."

They hadn't seen one another for over a month. He would've given the world to scoop them both up and run off to his place. She was a mother now. His fantasy romance had to end. He sat quietly with her, unable to say anything of significance. She knew it was over, too. Her energy and time had to go toward the bundle in his hands. He leaned over and kissed her. Their love lingered in the space between their lips. All the unsaid things lived in the kiss.

Terry studied Junior's face. Tight black curls and cocoa brown skin. All Jordan. A nurse stopped by and he handed the baby back to Nova. He lowered his head and kissed her forehead. Neither of them said goodbye.

Jordan left for the Indo-Pacific tour a week later.

Nova's mother stayed in town, and her father flew back home. He stayed busy with work and flag football. Von and Bethany invited him over for a birthday dinner in his honor two months later. Nova showed up with the baby. She looked stunning. The new-mother weight had shifted and morphed into something different. She looked like a sexy coke bottle bombshell. Without the maternity clothes, her new wardrobe highlighted her wider ass and fuller breasts. She still had a little belly fat with her stomach, and he liked it. The changes gave her a maternal shine that he couldn't get over. She seemed delighted to be around him again, and they both acted with decorum, despite his yearning to hold and kiss her.

Jordan Jr. was round and chunky, like the Michelin Man. Terry walked around with the boy like the proud godfather he was. Everyone at his party complimented him on how comfortable he looked with a baby and kidded him about getting married like everyone else. He only grinned and bounced Junior in his arms. At one point, folks started dancing, and Terry playfully grabbed Nova's hand and spun her around among their friends. Bethany held the baby, and it gave him the opportunity to touch Nova. He swung her out with some old-fashioned partner dancing to SWV and they lived inside a liminal space carved out just for them. Watching her laugh, feeling her warmth against him, having her catch his hand after he released her in time to the music was the best birthday gift he could have.

Von introduced him to a woman named April, and Terry became annoyed at the attempt at setting him up on his birthday. When the party became more raucous in the evening, Nova left. Terry followed her down the street to her car. She carried Junior in a car seat.

"Do you have to go?" he asked.

Nova placed her son in the back seat.

"Junior is a light sleeper. The noise will get to him. I had a great time today seeing everyone all together again. Happy Birthday, Terry."

She hugged him.

The moment they touched, everything felt the same. He sighed while holding her. Their lips couldn't stay apart and they kissed out in the open.

"I want to see you again," he said.

"We can't… things are different. I have the baby."

"Bring him. Let's just have dinner at my place. I'm supposed to spend time with my godson, right?"

She smirked.

"Bethany has someone more your speed waiting for you back at her house."

"April? She's cool, but she's not you, Nova. No one compares to you."

She shut the back passenger door and walked around to the driver's side.

"Dinner and nothing else?"

"Promise."

He kept the promise.

He cooked fettuccine with steak and played with the baby. Nova left with her dignity intact and they continued seeing each other without sex. He grew comfortable settling into a non-sexual relationship with her. Unfortunately, that only encouraged the stronger emotional attachment that grew between them. They acted like a couple raising a child together whenever they were alone.

When they hung out with their mutual friends, he gave off Big Uncle energy to his godson. On his days off, he offered to babysit so Nova could have a few hours to herself.

They didn't start sleeping together again until Jordan returned. The six-month tour changed him. He bonded with his son and, of course, this cut off Terry's time with Nova. She snuck away when she could and their relationship headed for a conclusion he didn't want to face. Nova knew they were about to plummet over a precipice, but he was determined to stay calm about it. The baby grew bigger and looked just like his daddy. He sensed the ambivalence in her about maintaining their affair. It was only a matter of time before he expected her to end it. He dreaded that moment.

One afternoon, he fucked the curls out of Nova's hair. She showed up wearing a sheer red negligee under a long coat and he sent her home dripping with semen in her panties. An hour later, Jordan came knocking on his door.

Terry stared at him through the keyhole and braced himself for some bullshit. He never gave Jordan his address. Other than Nova, only Von and Bethany knew that he'd moved off base.

"Who is it?" Terry called out, pretending not to know.

"Terry, it's me, Jordan. I need to talk to you…man to man."

Terry inhaled and opened the door, keeping his right leg behind him in case he needed to stick and move. Jordan had creases in his forehead and the whites of his eyes were pink.

"I need your advice," Jordan said.

Terry widened the door and invited Jordan in. He sat on the couch, and Terry sat on his recliner.

"What's going on?"

"It's Nova…I think…I think she's cheating on me."

Terry swallowed thickly and rubbed the back of his neck.

"What makes you believe that?"

Jordan stared at the floor.

"I've suspected it for a few months now. Since I came back. She's different, man."

"Motherhood changes women."

"Nah. Not like this. She's probably getting back at me because of Lourdes."

"Lourdes?"

"Some letters and a care package got forwarded to our house."

"You're still seeing her?"

"She was just a placeholder when Nova first got pregnant. I didn't have sex with Nova because of the baby and, well…shit…I got a blowjob here and there from Lourdes…ate some coochie and jerked off. I left overseas, and she started emailing and sending me shit. Nova didn't know until this fucking box showed up at the house today. But me and Lourdes were done…been over. That bitch stalked me with mail and gifts. Nova stormed out after we had a fight about it and left me with the baby. She came home smelling like sex and claimed she went to the gym and that I'm just projecting onto her. My wife is fucking another nigga and it's all because of that dumb bitch."

"So, none of this is your fault? Sneaking off to get your dick sucked? Constantly making poor choices?"

Jordan closed his eyes.

"Terry…listen to me. All that shit is over. I came home, and she put my son in my arms and I just…he looks just like me. Nova held it down by herself and now I'm gonna lose her to some fucker knocking her box out. She walks around humming and doesn't care if I go out anywhere. She don't nag or fuss at me like she used to. It's like she's plotting to leave the house every moment I turn my head. I'm thinking about dropping one of those Apple AirTags in her purse to track where she goes when she claims she's shopping or having lunch."

"Have you talked to her about it?"

"And say what? Stop cheating on me? She's getting back at me and I can't say I blame her. But I'm different. I'm willing to do anything…in fact, I'm getting out of the marines and taking her and the baby back to Charleston. I'm not re-upping. I gotta get her outta Oceanside and away from whoever she's seeing. This nigga done shifted her entire personality. I know he's fucking the shit outta her cuz her body is ridiculous. She's probably been banging him since I've been gone. I snooped around the house and found Plan B and spermicides in her personal bathroom cabinet."

Jordan held his head in frustration.

"Nova ain't never used spermicides with me. I bet she's letting this fool raw dog her."

Terry tried not to grind his teeth and sat back in his chair.

"I can't lose my family, Terry!"

Jordan burst into tears and moaned in great pain. Terry could only watch him with pity and feel dirty about the whole situation. All three of them were moving foul. But now a baby was involved.

"I have loved that woman for so long," Jordan said.

"You have a weird way of showing it."

"I know…I can't make any excuses for it anymore."

Jordan rolled into a ball on the couch. He looked like a hurt little boy that got his ball taken away…a ball he kicked away himself.

"What am I going to do?" Jordan pleaded.

"Can I ask you something personal? I want you to be truthful with me, though."

Jordan lifted his head, teary-eyes and lost.

"What?"

"Why did you marry Nova? You could've spared her suffering if you didn't get married."

"I loved her."

"Beyond that, though. What were you thinking when you asked her? Why didn't you just leave her be until you'd got your hoeing out of your system?"

Jordan glanced around Terry's condo like he was searching for the shadow of an answer in the corners.

"She was always my girl."

"Dig deeper."

Jordan closed his eyes in thought. He sat up and looked at Terry directly.

"If I didn't snatch her up soon, someone else would take her. I didn't want to leave her in South Carolina single. I thought…if I locked her down, I'd be set. No one else would touch her. I got her pregnant, and I figured we'd work through the kinks and things would get better."

"How did that come through your pea brain, Jordan? She's not someone you can put in a box and ignore until you're ready to grow up. You sidetracked her life—"

"I didn't want to lose her, Terry. Maybe I wasn't ready…but we'd been close for years. Our families are locked in. I didn't…I can't lose her."

Jordan jumped up and angrily paced.

"I swear to God if I catch this nigga she's creepin' with, I'll kill him."

"If she's happier, let her go."

"Nigga what? Are you crazy?"

"You're getting care packages overseas from a woman you claim was a past side piece a year ago. Nova did nothing but love you, and you shit on her every chance you get!"

Terry stood and stared Jordan down with flared nostrils and narrow eyes.

"That woman has cried over you…prayed…done everything to keep your marriage together. Fuck, man! She had your baby! Gave up school because of it. You haven't thought about what she's sacrificed to be with you… everything revolves around your needs. I want her to divorce you!"

Jordan gawked. His mouth fell open, and he inched back. His eyes went up and down Terry's body. He held up a hand.

"Why would you want her to divorce me, Terry?"

Exasperated, Terry exhaled and put his hands on his hips.

"You can't make Nova happy if you keep hurting her. That's all I'm saying. Let her go if you can't get your shit together. For her sake, and your son."

Jordan glared at him.

"Are you fucking my wife?"

Terry mustered all the calm he could find in his bones.

"No."

Jordan closed his eyes and huffed.

"I love her. I love my son. He's the best thing that's happened to us," Jordan said.

Terry's legs shook. His stomach twisted in knots, and he tasted a sour liquid at the back of his throat. He wanted to blurt out the truth, but he probably would've vomited had he done that, knowing that Nova would suffer the consequences. So would Junior. He clamped a hand on Jordan's shoulder. His godson deserved to have a father who wanted to make things right once and for all.

"Jordan, go home to your wife. Beg her for forgiveness and show her with your deeds—not words—that you're deserving of her love. Don't worry about who she may or may not be fucking. This is your only chance to come correct."

Jordan nodded his head and started crying. He was a child in a man's body with the emotional intelligence to match. Terry had no faith in him to do better. However, every man deserved the opportunity to try. He wouldn't stand in the way. Terry knew he and Nova would hit a brick wall once Jordan came back. It was time for fate and Jordan to take over.

Terry reached over and hugged Jordan.

"Go home to your family."

Jordan stayed true to his word and didn't re-enlist. Von and Bethany threw them a going away barbecue at one of their flag football games. Nova played on an opposite team and snatched Terry's flag off a few times for old times' sake.

They spoke on the phone privately the night before and cried together. Despite her anger and bitterness toward her husband, Nova loved Jordan. Terry didn't reveal that he spoke with him in his condo. He also kept his opinion about having no faith in Jordan's ability to man up to himself. There was no need to pressure her into giving him what he wanted. She had to leave her husband on her own when she was ready. Pushing her to do it would cause resentment.

"I love you…always baby," he told her.

"My heart hurts…I love you—"

"Go hold on to that beautiful baby for me."

"Terry…please don't hate me for trying again."

"I could never hate you, Nova. Put that thought out of your mind."

"He stopped drinking. Most of his infidelity issues and unacceptable behavior came from that. We're starting counseling back home. Getting back into church again. I think he was so disconnected from who he was…maybe Junior helped remind him of who he used to be."

He respected her decision. Had he been in Jordan's position, he would've begged God to give him another chance, too.

"Nova?"

"Yes?"

He should've bitten his tongue, but he said it anyway.

"When you want me to come get you. You let me know. Okay?"

She stayed quiet.

There were so many friends at the park that it became easy for him to drift along and keep busy with other people. He wandered to his truck to get a jacket, and Nova thought he was leaving. She chased him down in the parking lot and threw her arms around his neck. He lifted her up and held her, their tears mixing in person. Emotionally drained after the sad goodbye, Terry drove home and cried.

Nova and Jordan flew out the next day with their baby, and it didn't surprise Terry at all that Nova left Jordan four months later. Bethany let slip at a cookout that Nova filed for divorce and moved in with her brother- and sister-in-law. Terry minded his business and hoped Nova would finally find happiness. She was with her people and had a strong, supportive family to carry her through. Inserting himself into her life in the middle of new turmoil was something he wouldn't do. God took her away for a reason. Terry worked on closing that chapter in his life, no matter how painful it was.

Another summer was upon him, and he made vacation plans to visit his family on a road trip. He cleaned his condo, dropped off some spare keys for his friend Angie to watch his place while he was gone, and gassed up his truck. The only thing he had left to do was collect his travel bags. He collected mail from his mailbox in the condo lobby and found a large white envelope addressed to him by name, but with no return address.

Terry took the elevator to his home and tossed the junk mail aside. He opened the envelope and pulled out a large color photo of a cute brown baby girl with green eyes so bright they seemed to leap off the photo paper. His heart thudded in his chest. He sat down on his couch and flipped the photo over. There was only a name and a phone number.

Terrina Richmond.

The phone number had an unfamiliar area code. He looked it up on his smartphone.

Charleston, South Carolina.

Terry's hands shook so badly he had to press them on his thighs. He stared at the photo again. The baby had wispy waves of dark brown hair like him, but the eyes…God the eyes were his, too. Especially the long curling eyelashes.

He picked up his phone, and with trembling fingers, called the number.

"Hello?"

"Nova?"

"Terry—"

"I have a photo in my hand. That's why I called this number…Nova—"

"Come get me…come get us."

"Send me the address, baby. I'm on my way."

He asked no questions. Didn't worry about how he would explain to his relatives that he had to make a detour from Louisiana to South Carolina. His prayers had been answered.

Terry Richmond booked a flight to Charleston. He had to get his woman back and meet his new daughter.

Lick Back 2 HERE.

A.N: Hey, shit happens. Just needed to write this one to see where it would go!

[brunchable]

It's not a Meet-𝑪𝒖𝒕𝒆, it's a Meet-𝗨𝗴𝗹𝘆. 《Chapter 3: Kibble Thief. 》

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: It's not a meet-cute, it's a meet ugly, Grumpy Meets ✨️Sunshine✨️, Opposites Attract, Sassy Pet Matchmaker, Enemies-to-Lovers (Lite), Destined to meet again, Bucky is a hidden softie. Summary: Who gets the last Kibble in the grocery store? Rock-Paper-Scissors should settle that. A/N: This story will be OUTSIDE of MCU but Bucky's traits will be mixed comics/mcu. Also this will be updated every FRIDAY(AEST). I hope I tagged everyone? Credits to me for the Banner lmfao. credits to @ khaer for the divider.

The Emporium NYC bustled with the usual morning energy—customers browsing, displays perfectly set up, and staff ensuring everything was running smoothly. You strolled through, heels clicking softly against the polished floor as Lincoln, Maddie, and Rachel trailed behind, taking notes and addressing finer details, from updating store layouts to planning promotional events for the upcoming season. Officially the new CEO, you’d be overseeing each component, ensuring the customer experience was flawless, from aesthetics to the efficiency of operations.

As you rounded a corner, you came to an abrupt stop, causing your small entourage to halt behind you. There, by one of the benches near a fountain, was Bucky. He was crouched down, helping an elderly woman with her shopping bags, his eyes crinkling as he laughed at something she’d said. The sight of him, relaxed and genuinely grinning, made you pause, head tilting in mild fascination.

Bucky was… peculiar. You couldn’t quite pin down why; there was something about the way he carried himself that seemed at odds with the man you’d met—reserved and gruff, yet here he was, all warmth and easy charm. He looked completely at ease, like he belonged in this gentle moment, laughing softly with an elderly stranger.

You stood there, watching him as if trying to solve a puzzle. How could someone be so closed off one moment and so approachable the next?

A hand suddenly waved in front of your face, snapping you back to reality.

“Hey, you okay?” Lincoln asked, raising an eyebrow with a curious look.

“Oh!” You blinked, catching yourself. “Yeah, just… observing,” you replied with a small smile, glancing back at Bucky, who was still chuckling with the elderly woman, completely unaware of his unexpected audience.

After a moment, Bucky stood up, giving the elderly woman a warm smile as he handed her bags back. She patted his arm gratefully, and he gave a small nod before turning around, his gaze sweeping over the bustling mall.

Just as he glanced in your direction, he caught sight of your back as you continued walking, your little group following closely behind. From his angle, all he could see was the silhouette of a well-dressed woman in heels, surrounded by assistants, her focus already directed ahead, purposefully striding through the mall. He raised an eyebrow, thinking for a moment that the figure seemed familiar, but brushed it off.

Bucky continued his stroll, unaware that he’d just missed you by a few paces, each of you none the wiser to the other’s presence.

× × × × 

Back in your office—a space designed with clean lines, muted tones, and an impeccable sense of style—you sat at your desk, but your mind was elsewhere. The memory of Bucky by the fountain lingered, refusing to fade. You twirled a pen between your fingers, the rhythmic motion doing little to refocus your thoughts.

Through the glass wall, you caught sight of Lincoln, busy at his desk just outside. His head was bent over paperwork, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up as he worked. With a small sigh, you picked up the telephone on your desk, dialing his extension. A moment later, Lincoln’s phone buzzed, and he glanced your way before answering.

“Yeah, boss?” he asked, voice carrying just the slightest edge of curiosity.

“Can you come in here for a sec?” you replied, keeping your tone casual.

“Sure,” he said, hanging up before making his way into your office. He closed the door behind him with a quiet click, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the back of the chair opposite your desk. “Something the matter?”

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment before speaking. “You mentioned before that you’re into the Avengers, right?”

Lincoln blinked, looking slightly taken aback by the unexpected question. “Uh… yeah, I guess you could say that. Why?”

You leaned back in your chair, tapping the pen lightly against the armrest. “Is there a guy named Bucky? Perhaps?”

Lincoln’s expression shifted, a look of recognition crossing his features. 

“Yeah, there’s definitely a Bucky,” he replied, nodding slowly. “Bucky Barnes—also known as the Winter Soldier. Kind of a big deal, depending on how much of a fan you are.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden enthusiasm. “Go on.”

“He’s Steve Rogers’ best friend and has, uh… kind of a complicated past. He has a bionic arm too—I heard they had to use the mind stone to remove the brainwashing a long time ago so yeah, that’s him—definitely has that ‘badass with a heart of gold’ type.”

Lincoln looked at you, curiosity clearly growing. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, nothing,” you replied, shrugging as casually as possible. “Just curious.”

Lincoln narrowed his eyes suspiciously, crossing his arms as he gave you a skeptical once-over. After a moment, he leaned forward, clearly not about to let it go entirely. 

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

You cleared your throat, attempting to change the topic. “So… who do you like better? Bucky or, you know… Captain America?”

Lincoln didn’t hesitate. “Bucky, hands down. He’s cool.” He grinned, adding, “I mean, come on. Vibranium arm—but I don’t think he’s actively working anymore, probably laying low.”

You nodded thoughtfully. “I see… well, thanks for the info.”

With a smirk, Lincoln shrugged, giving you one last curious glance before heading for the door. As he left, you spun your pen between your fingers, lingering in thought for a moment. Finally, with a small sigh, you turned your attention to the computer and typed in Bucky Barnes into the search bar, curiosity getting the better of you.

× × × × 

After a long day at work, you decided to stop by Rhys’ office unannounced. Frustration lingered in your chest; he’d been dodging your calls and texts all day, and the unanswered questions had built a subtle tension you were eager to resolve. As much as you tried to brush it off, a part of you felt that familiar pang of disappointment, wondering if he’d really be there for you this time or if the gala would end up as another solo appearance.

Dressed in a high-waisted pencil skirt and a relaxed-fit blouse tucked neatly in, you’d opted for professional yet effortlessly striking. As you stepped into his office, Rhys’ gaze flickered up, eyebrows lifting as his eyes ran from your heels to the curve of your shoulders, lingering slightly longer than necessary before he met your gaze.

“Hey,” he greeted, leaning back in his chair, a hint of surprise coloring his voice. “Didn’t know you’d be stopping by.”

You gave him a small, tired smile, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe. 

“Thought I’d save myself another text,” you replied lightly. “So, will you be coming to the gala next week?”

He sighed, glancing at his computer screen. “I’ve got a lot on my plate right now. I’ll try my best, but you know how it is. Busy, busy.”

Before you could reply, you noticed a figure off to the side, stacking a pile of files on a desk across the room. A young woman you didn’t recognize, dressed in a polished but slightly over-eager way. There was something oddly familiar about her—the way she held herself, the slight flicker of recognition as she glanced over at you before quickly averting her eyes.

Turning back to Rhys, you tilted your head, gesturing subtly toward her. “New assistant?” you asked, your tone light but curious.

Rhys glanced over, nodding. “Yeah, that’s Carly. She just started. Great addition to the team, very… efficient.”

Carly offered a polite smile, though her gaze didn’t quite meet yours. The vague familiarity nagged at you, but you pushed it aside, refocusing on Rhys.

“Don’t you think going to the gala with me is a good way to make it up to me?” you asked, keeping your tone light but with an edge.

Rhys sighed, leaning back in his chair, looking almost exasperated. “Baby, we went to dinner, I bought you flowers… I thought we were over that already.”

A flash of irritation sparked within you, but with his employees nearby, you bit your tongue, choosing to keep things civil. Instead, you offered a tight smile. 

“Alright. Then just cancel our weekend together,” you said, tone even as you reached for your phone, texting Lincoln to prepare the car. Without waiting for a response, you turned to walk toward the door.

Rhys, visibly frustrated, hurried after you, catching your arm gently but firmly, turning you around to face him. 

“Are you seriously going to act like this?” he demanded, his voice low but laced with annoyance.

“Act like what?” you replied, voice steady, but the tension between you was palpable. “Do you not like your own medicine?”

Rhys’ jaw tightened as he released your arm, his gaze hardening. He looked like he wanted to argue but held back, glancing briefly over his shoulder at his employees before forcing a smile.

Rhys let out a frustrated huff, his expression twisting as he tried to maintain his composure. “This is being petty. I have a few deadlines, alright?”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “So do I, and yet I’m going,” you replied, your tone sharp but controlled.

He let out a mirthless chuckle, rubbing a hand over his jaw as if trying to rein in his frustration. 

“Look, it’s not the same,” he muttered. “You don’t understand the pressure I’m under right now.”

You shook your head, the familiar sting of disappointment returning. 

“No, Rhys. I think you’re the one who doesn’t understand,” you said quietly. “Just—just keep your bare minimum away from me. I want someone who shows up with passion, not just a shrug.”

He opened his mouth, as if to argue, but you were done. Turning on your heel, you strode toward the elevator, leaving him standing in the hallway, his employees glancing away awkwardly, pretending not to notice the heated exchange.

As the elevator doors closed in front of you, you took a steadying breath, focusing on the feeling of moving forward.

× × × ×

The grocery store was surprisingly packed for a weekday evening, but you only had one item left on your list: Figaro’s favorite premium kibble. He definitely knows his social ranks for a feline. After a few minutes of searching, you finally spotted the last bag on the top shelf, wedged annoyingly out of reach. Standing on tiptoe, you stretched your arm, fingers just barely grazing the edge of the bag. No luck.

With a sigh, you jumped a little, just enough to brush the bottom of the bag but not quite enough to grab it. Just as you were about to give it one last try, an arm reached out beside you, snatching the bag with ease.

“Oh, thank you—” You turned, half-expecting to see a store employee, but froze when you realized it was Bucky, he looked at you, an eyebrow raised, holding the bag as if he were contemplating your gratitude.

“Thanks,” you said with a polite smile, reaching for it. But he didn’t hand it over.

“What?” he asked, looking down at the bag, then back at you. “Did you think I got this for you?”

“Obviously?” you replied, exasperated. “I was reaching for it!”

Bucky tilted his head, eyes glinting with mischief. “Yeah, I saw. Looked like quite a struggle.”

You huffed, hands on your hips. “So you just saw a lady struggling and thought, ‘Nah, I’ll just grab my own and let her suffer?’”

He raised an eyebrow, looking at you with mock seriousness. 

“In my defense, I was here to buy cat food too. And besides,” he said, holding the bag up a little higher, “I’m the one who actually got it off the shelf.”

Your jaw dropped as you let out a disbelieving scoff. “So, what? You think you can just keep it?”

Bucky shrugged, giving the bag a little shake. “I don’t know… I think Alpine would be pretty disappointed if I came home empty-handed.”

“Oh, really? Well, Figaro’s basically feline royalty, so he deserves the best. And I was here first, thank you very much.” You narrowed your eyes, refusing to back down.

“Sure, you were here first. But I was the one who reached it.” He leaned back a bit, arms crossed, clearly enjoying this. 

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, reaching up again, trying to snag it from his grip.

He pulled it just out of reach with a faint teasing smirk. “You know, if you tried a little jump, you might actually get it.”

You rolled your eyes. “And you call me a Trash Panda?! You’re the one robbing me in public.”

He shrugged, looking you over with a mockingly thoughtful expression. “Well, if you could use those same Trash Panda skills you talked about, maybe you’d actually reach it.”

“Oh, so now you’re saying I should just climb the shelves?” You bit back a laugh, folding your arms with a challenging look.

“Hey, if the trash panda mask fits…” he replied, smirking.

You couldn’t help it—you laughed, shaking your head. “Well, guess what, I’m not giving up. Figaro needs this kibble, so… how about we make a deal?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

“Rock, paper, scissors. Best two out of three. Winner takes the kibble.”

He chuckled, clearly amused. “You serious?”

“As a heart attack,” you replied, holding out your hand, already set on rock.

He sighed dramatically but held out his fist. “Alright.”

You both counted off—“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”—and threw your choices. First round: you threw rock, he threw scissors.

“Ha! One for Figaro,” you said, grinning triumphantly as Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Beginner’s luck,” he muttered, shifting his stance.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” you both chanted again. This time, you threw paper, but he threw scissors, a sly smirk pulling at his lips.

“Looks like Alpine’s back in the game,” he said, sounding entirely too pleased with himself.

You narrowed your eyes. “Fine. One to one. This is for all the kibble, Barnes.”

You both held your fists out one last time, tension building as you chanted together, “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

You threw scissors… and his hand did some weird, twisty thing that didn’t look like a fist or open palm. It seemed to morph into rock at the last second.

You stared at his hand, utterly perplexed. “Hold on. What… what was that?”

He cleared his throat, trying to keep a straight face as he straightened his hand into a proper rock. “Uh, rock.”

You squinted at him, highly suspicious. “That didn’t look like rock. That looked like some sort of… ninja move.”

“Rock. Fair and square.” He shrugged, deadpan. 

“Fair and square?” you repeated, scandalized. “You hesitated! I saw it. There was… like, a split-second where it was maybe paper or… or spaghetti hand. You can’t just—”

“Ha!—” he laughed suddenly, clutching the bag triumphantly. “Looks like Alpine’s getting her dinner after all.” Realizing he’d let his competitive amusement slip, he quickly cleared his throat and returned to his usual deadpan expression. “Uh, like I said. Rock.”

You gasped, pointing a dramatic finger at him. “Cheater! This is an outrage. Figaro and I will be filing an official complaint.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, barely hiding a grin as he clutched the kibble bag like a prize. “Good luck with that, Trash Panda. You know where to find me.”

“W-what?! This is unacceptable!”

He gave you a mock salute, turning to leave with the bag held victoriously at his side. “See you around. Better luck next time.”

× × × ×

You finally made it back home, juggling grocery bags as you stepped through the door. After Bucky’s so-called “victory” over the last bag of Figaro’s kibble, you’d stubbornly marched to a different grocery store just to get the brand he liked. And now, as you set down the bags, you couldn’t help but grumble, still ‘annoyed’ by the whole ordeal.

“Can you believe that guy, Figaro?” you muttered, pulling out the new bag of kibble and placing it on the counter. “Rock, paper, scissors? And don’t get me started on his weird ‘ninja rock’ move.”

Figaro, who’d been lounging on the windowsill, perked up at the mention of his name, giving you a lazy blink. He trotted over, sniffing at the bag with casual curiosity, clearly more interested in the kibble than your grocery drama.

“Yeah, I know, buddy,” you sighed, scratching his ears. “I went through all that trouble just to get this for you. Because some self-proclaimed ‘cat dad’ thought it was funny to mess with me.”

Figaro blinked at you slowly, his usual regal, unbothered expression intact.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” you continued, almost indignant. “He was laughing at me—like, actually laughing! And then he tried to pretend he didn’t. I swear, the nerve…”

You opened the bag, pouring a small amount into Figaro’s dish. He immediately sauntered over, sniffing it appreciatively before settling down to eat, clearly oblivious to your rant.

You huffed, pacing around the kitchen as you continued your one-sided conversation. “And then, he had the audacity to call me a Trash Panda. A Trash Panda, Figaro! Just because I had to take the recycling out one time. If anything, he’s the one acting like a sneaky raccoon, hoarding all the kibble.”

Figaro paused mid-chew, glancing up at you with a flick of his tail, as if he were considering whether to care about your grievances. Ultimately, though, he resumed eating, clearly finding the kibble well worth your extra trip.

“Glad you’re satisfied, at least,” you muttered, watching him with an exasperated smile. “But just so you know, if I run into him again, there’s no way he’s winning round two. Trash Panda, my foot.”

You sighed, finally plopping down on the couch. As you closed your eyes, Figaro leapt up, curling onto your lap, purring as if to say, You did well. Now, keep that kibble coming.

With a chuckle, you scratched behind his ears. “Yeah, yeah. All for you, buddy.”

× × × ×

Bucky unlocked his apartment door, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The memory of his grocery store “win” replayed in his mind, and he let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he thought of you muttering something about a “trash panda” rebellion. But as he stepped inside, his good mood was interrupted by a startling sight.

There, sitting casually on his couch, was Nick Fury, his signature eyepatch and stoic expression in place as he stroked Alpine, who lounged contentedly on his lap, purring like she’d known him her whole life.

“Fury?” Bucky’s voice was laced with a mixture of irritation and surprise as he closed the door, eyeing the uninvited guest warily. “Breaking into people’s apartments now, are we?”

Fury didn’t look up, still scratching Alpine’s ears. “Didn’t break in. Used the spare key you left at the front desk. Figured you wouldn’t mind.”

Bucky sighed, leaning back against the door. “Something tells me you didn’t swing by just to bond with my cat.”

Finally, Fury looked up, his expression as unreadable as ever. 

“Got a job for you,” he said, straight to the point. “Nothing big. Need someone with your… skill set. It’s important.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. “So, you need me for a mission?”

Fury gave a curt nod, placing a slim folder on the coffee table in front of him. “Consider it a favor. Low profile, nothing flashy. Think of it as keeping yourself sharp.”

Bucky looked at the file, then back at Fury, giving a single, firm nod, his expression resolute. 

“Alright.”

A flicker of satisfaction passed over Fury’s face. “Good. Figured you’d see it that way,” he said, standing up and straightening his coat. “Call it… preventative maintenance.”

Bucky gave him a sarcastic smile. “Good to know you’re looking out for me.”

Fury adjusted his collar, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t get used to it.”

With that, Fury headed for the door, but he paused, glancing back as if he’d forgotten something. 

“Nice cat,” he added, nodding to Alpine. “She’s got good taste.”

Before Bucky could respond, Fury slipped out the door, leaving the room silent except for Alpine, who looked up at Bucky with wide, innocent eyes, as if nothing unusual had happened.

He let out a breath, shaking his head as he picked up the file Fury had left. 

“Guess I’m not the only one with ‘friends’ stopping by,” he muttered, scratching Alpine under the chin. She purred, looking thoroughly unbothered, as if welcoming mysterious guests was just part of her day.

As Bucky settled into his apartment, he opened the slim file Fury had left behind. The first page was blank, but as he flipped it open, a small stack of documents fell out, including a photo. He picked it up, his gaze settling on a familiar face.

There you were, captured in a candid shot, your expression focused and composed, a faint smile touching your lips. Bucky felt a slight twist in his chest; he knew you looked good, but seeing you in an official document made it all seem… different.

He sighed, setting the photo aside as he turned to the profiles. The first file, marked with your family’s name, laid out the details of their empire. The Emporium, he read, the flagship shopping mall brand that had grown into a national luxury name, renowned for its upscale stores and sleek, modern architecture. A leader in the retail market, The Emporium was a prestigious name, built on elegance, exclusivity, and exceptional customer experience.

Finally, he found your profile. There was your name, the one he hadn’t known until now. Bucky murmured it to himself, testing the sound on his tongue. It suited you.

As he read, he found his initial hunch confirmed—your involvement in any of the suspected activities was highly unlikely. The profile outlined your recent appointment as CEO, noting your reputation for commitment and vision, as well as your focus on a flawless customer experience and dedication to preserving the company’s high standards. The report even highlighted your relative lack of experience with the inner financial workings of the empire, making it clear you hadn’t been involved with the questionable transactions.

Still, Bucky’s stomach clenched as he flipped to the next page. A profile on your older brother, marked with multiple instances of substantial, unusual transactions. The transactions were linked to shell companies 'known' to have Hydra connections. He sat back, fingers brushing over the file, his mind whirring with the implications.

He couldn’t deny the odd twist in his gut. The more he read, the more he realized he was being drawn into something that would involve you deeply. And the idea of you eventually finding out about his involvement gnawed at him. But for now, he told himself, he was only gathering information.

As he leaned back, closing the file, his gaze drifted back to your photo, a faint sigh escaping him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that when you eventually learned the truth, this mission might cost him more than he wanted to admit.

 tags: @winchestert101 @lomlbuckybarnes @lveegsoi @itsshellzy @almosttoopizza

@aami98 @hextech-bros @hzdhrtss @winterslove1917 @infqnitysblog

@ayayaeyato @blackbirdwitch22 @mostlymarvelgirl @bohoooitsme @crdgn

@yiiiikesmish @jae0515 @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @nikey-no-likey @aami98

@almosttoopizza @hextech-bros @wisteriaandwafers @yiiiikesmish @marvelavengerspovs1

@ppbhquinn

[hottestvirgin]

DILF!HEESEUNG

warnings. dilf!heeseung, sub!reader, smut, fluff, cute moments, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, unprotected sex, slight degrading, dirty talk, creampie, very dirty, yuuuhh

becoming heeseung’s daughter’s official babysitter was the best decision you’ve made in a while. not only were you getting paid $65 an hour to watch a guy’s child and to live there, but you were babysitting a well behaved little girl.

this came with its perks, and that was seeing her attractive father everyday. you met heeseung through a friend who worked for his family’s company. when she heard word of him needing a babysitter for his two year old, she immediately called you. after a small interview and background check, you became his babysitter.

that was one year ago. so now you were watching over a little three year old everyday, keeping her fed and entertaining while heeseung worked overtime for the company he’s soon to obtain. being closer to him, he’s more vocal about his struggles with being a father with his career.

“i don’t, y’know, wanna be distant from her,” he pauses to meet your eyes, flashing a genuine smile while rubbing your shoulder, “that’s why i appreciate you so much.”

your heart thrums at his words. they always do. and you couldn’t help the overwhelming feelings for heeseung. this tension between you two have been blossoming for a few months now. he just finds it so endearing how sweet and caring you are to both him and his daughter. he even considered raising your pay.

“$100!?” you gasped, a little too loudly. you quickly glance over at his sleeping daughter, hoping you didn’t wake her. when she didn’t move an inch, you look back at heeseung.

“is it too low?” the man asked, “i can double it.” he was desperate. so desperate to show you his appreciation. so desperate to ensure that you would never, ever leave.

“my current pay is enough, sir. don’t worry.” you smiled at him and he swore you were the most beautiful woman his eyes had ever landed on.

he pursed his lips, “you’re always so formal. you can call me heeseung,” he chuckled, “loosen up a bit.”

the softness of his voice lightened your mood that day, causing his name to be able to slip past your plush lips with ease now.

“heeseung, you got her the wrong applesauce,” you told him with a small laugh, watching him drop the last grocery bag on the kitchen counter. “she likes strawberry instead of cinnamon, remember?”

your words sent a weird feeling in heeseung’s stomach. you remembered everything about his daughter and he couldn’t even remember her favorite applesauce flavor. seeing you take on the role he failed to take made him proud and embarrassed.

“shit. you’re right. i’ll go get it then.” he’s stopped by the firm grip on his wrist, turning on his heels and meeting your comforting gaze.

“don’t worry about it. she’ll eat it.” you told him. and later that night he overheard you telling his daughter that the cinnamon applesauce was a special gift from him and how he loved her very much. she had eaten every single bite.

the first time he saw you cry was probably the scariest moment in his life. what had happened? did his daughter do something to you? did she hurt your feelings? were you gonna leave him?

“hey, hey, what’s wrong?” heeseung was quick to comfort you in parallel with how you’re always quick to comfort him. he rubbed your back and you sniffled, wiping the tears that streamed down your face.

“she called me mommy,” you told him, “i just.. don’t know how to react to that.”

oh.

when you told him that you didn’t know why you bursted out crying, he hesitated for a bit. he knew that this would happen because of how young she is. but he didn’t know it would make you ball out crying.

“if she thinks of you as a mommy then that means you’re doing a good job.” heeseung told you, his fingers intertwining with yours, squeezing your hand. there was something about his aura that night that made you feel safe and warm.

and what really made your heart swell was when he told you that you would be the perfect mother. this feeling was different. it made you.. aroused. in a way. but it was wrong, right? you can’t feel this way towards him.

as the long spring days passed, the tension grew. starting from giving each other as much personal space as possible to being very affectionate and open with each other which seemed like overnight.

“i just put her to bed.” you announce, standing in heeseung’s doorway with your arms crossed. he looks up from his laptop, inviting you to sit on his bed. “i’m getting used to it. but it just feels so weird sometimes. i’ve never seen myself as a mother.”

heeseung’s facial expression softens when you speak, reaching to graze his fingers over your arm. “but you would. i’ve been watching you and you’re better at parenting than me.” he laughs his words off but your stomach churns in arousal when he admits that he does, in fact, watch you.

“you’re an amazing dad.” you reassure. “you think so?” heeseung tsks, closing his laptop to give you his attention. nodding, you continue, “you’re sweet, loving, funny, generous..” you pause when he interrupts with a sudden laugh.

“yeah? tell me more.” the man sits up against his headboard, loving the compliments.

“hardworking, dependable.. i could go on. you’re everything i’d want in a man.” you didn’t expect to fully admit your appreciation for the man but you didn’t expect to admit that. seeing his reaction to your words made your heart flutter.

heeseung didn’t know why but the tension between you two grew intensely. he stares into your eyes lovingly, in a daze. like he was getting high just from hearing your pretty voice.

“so you want me to be your man?” heeseung repeats, and your face quickly heats in embarrassment at what you just said. fuck. what if he finds you weird? would he fire you?

“i-i mean.. i’d like a man like you.”

“mm.. so you like me.” heeseung concludes, and you cover your face in embarrassment. “well, i like you too,” he tells you, “and you’re everything i’d want in a woman.”

there’s a hint of teasing in his words but you knew they were genuine when you found heeseung in between your legs, splitting you open on his cock right then and there. filling your cunt deliciously, it’s so good. and heeseung has never been this turned on in his life, rutting into you desperately.

you can feel him deep in your stomach. and his slender fingers graze over your abdomen, his desires sending more adrenaline through his veins. he pushes your thighs against your chest, folding you in half and thrusting stupidly into you. “i’ll fuck a baby in you, i promise.” he grunts, squeezing your thighs.

you’re all fuzzy and drunk on his cock, only being able to moan and whimper pathetically as he pulls his hips down harder and harder, each time pushing your body into the mattress which produces loud squeaks and would guarantee wake his daughter up. but he doesn’t stop.

“you’d be such a pretty mama, baby.” heeseung cooes, and it sends shivers down your spine. he’s serious because he’s fucking you into the mattress with all his strength, caging and trapping you between his arms.

“d..don’t stop.” you beg, breathless. he’s not planning on it, and it only thrives him to angle his hips to where his swollen tip abuses that soft spot inside of you. this sends you to another realm, your grunts turning into silent moans.

heeseung can see it now. how you’d be walking around his house with a swollen belly. how pretty you’d look with all the weight gain, swollen tits, so fragile and gorgeous. just for him. he could already see you with his baby in your arms. fuck. it turns him on so much. everything about you does.

“oh my god. s’ good.” you moan, gripping onto the back of your own thighs. “yeah? i’m right here, baby, feel that?” he grazes over your stomach again, pushing down to feel the print of his cock in your flesh, “gonna fill this pussy full of my babies.. gonna make you my wife so you’ll never leave me like she did.”

fuck. he was pushing you over the edge and your fingers were slipping. you were so close to losing your mind. clenching around him, he groans while putting more aggression to his thrusts to ensure that he’s balls deep inside you. fuckfuckfuck. he was so close, his cock throbbing and twitching inside you. every drag of his cock sent a shiver down your spine.

he nuzzles his sweaty face into your neck, taking in your sweet, motherly scent. you were driving him fucking crazy. and he didn’t stop his thrusts for a minute. he wraps an arm around the back of your neck, pulling you into his chest while his other hand pushes your thigh further against your chest.

“ah fuuuk.. m’ gonna cum.” heeseung hips stutter, voice shivery as he whimpers and fills your womb full with his thick load, riding out his orgasm while you cum hard around him, creaming his shaft. he’s still rocking against you to make sure he fucks every drop of his cum as deep as he can in you. when he pulls out, fat globs of his cum seep out of your aching hole.

you have no regrets, no source of shame, nothing. this was the man you wanted to be the father of your first child. this was the man who’s baby you wanted to carry. so a few weeks later, you show him a positive pregnancy test.

[st4rymoon]

𝘉𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘦

˚ ༘ *⭐︎ Miguel x afab reader

Warnings - 18+. smut. Some Angst. Enemy’s to lovers, sex with a plot, unprotected sex, breeding kink, breath play, arguing, both get physical (get in a fight but nothing too serious), other variants mentioned and Dr. Strange (why not bring him up), after care, teasing, possessive Miguel, biting, messy sex, semi-mean Miguel, pet names (doll, muñeca, princesa, chula), Spanish (translations added)

[pt.2 is out! → better than me pt. 2]

Miguel was obnoxious and self-absorbed, you knew that by now.

You were living your life as the Spider-Woman of your universe with no worries at all until a blonde-haired ghost-looking spider appeared.

You had somewhat of an idea of what she was talking about, after all, you had a Dr. Strange in your universe and he would never stop talking about the multi-verse.

He never mentioned that these variants would come looking for each other but hey, what did you know?

The blonde-haired girl begged for you to meet the others, calming you weren’t alone and had a group of others to bond with. But you had no problem being alone with such powers, matter of fact you enjoyed it.

There was no one to boss you around or scold you which was always a plus as a superhero. That carefree life you had turned sour as you agreed with the blonde-haired girl and went to meet the others.

“By the way my boss, OUR boss doesn’t know you exist… he’s practically found every spider in the universe. But I guess he forgot one, and by the way, I’m Gwen”

You smiled “Well Gwen, YOUR boss will be pleased to hear that it’s almost impossible to find every Spider-Man. There are millions of universes” you shrugged.

Gwen was taken aback by your words, she wasn’t aware you knew about these universes since a majority of the others didn’t. “How do you know?” She questioned with her arms crossed.

“Do you not have a Dr. Strange in your universe? A tall annoying brown-haired man? Middle-aged? No sense of humor? Come one you don’t have one!?” You gasped.

“Never heard of a strange before”

-

Both of you walked into a giant laboratory-like room, you heard chatter all around you as you looked above and saw dozens of spider variants on the ceilings and walls.

“GWEN! Gwen! May has been getting into trouble have you see- who are you?” A tired-looking brown-haired man looked at you in confusion. “I’m a rouge-killing monster called Spider-Man” you replied.

Both of their faces turned pale at your words “Gosh you guys have no sense of humor! I’m joking” you sigh. “Im a spider variant like all of you, now why’d you drag me here”

“Miguel isn’t going to like this… I’m Peter” the brown-haired man smiled. “And I presume Miguel is the big scary boss man right?”

“Thank you for the kind words” a loud voice boomed from behind. “Miguel! I found another!” Gwen smiles awkwardly.

“Mmh”

You turned to see an attractive middle-aged man with glowing red eyes “She knows about the multi-verse she was talking about some dude called Strange” Gwen nodded.

Miguel tensed at her words, his eyes glued to you as he made his way towards you. “What do you know about strange?” He hummed, circling you like his prey.

“Nothing that’s your business that’s for sure” you chuckle “Well I had fun, I’ll be heading out now” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m talking to you” Miguel yells “No your yelling, have a nice day” you wave as you shoot a web out and swing. Halfway through the swing, your web was cut, causing you to drop to the ground “WHAT THE FUCK!” You yell.

Miguel stood tall with a cocky smile on his face “We aren’t done talking” he shakes his head.

You knew very little about Dr. Strange, sure you’re well acquainted with the universally famous sorcerer but he was a private man. He called you when he needed help and that was it.

To your disbelief, you had no clue other spiders could be so damn annoying. “Well I am, I’m not going to say it again. I AM LEAVING.” You yell.

“She’s just like him” you hear a spider whisper “I AM NOT” you point a finger up at one of them “How could you hear that” they muttered. “Don’t you all have great hearing?”

“Not all of us” Peter shrugged. “What did they say?” Gwen asked. You ignored everyone and walked out of the room. Already halfway through the door, you felt a hand grip your arm.

Turning, you see Miguel’s ruby eyes staring at you. “I suggest you let go of me” you say calmly. It was a shame he was an ass, he was too good-looking to be acting the way he was.

“Threats don’t work on m-“You cut him off mid-sentence, kicking his ankle and making him fall back. You pinned him onto the ground, your leg on his chest and heel pressed onto his chin.

The look in his eyes was a mix of anger and shock.

The other spiders started yelling, Gwen yelling at Peter to stop this and during the chaos for some odd reason you saw a talking spider cat yelling “A cat?” You chuckled causing you to lose focus.

Within seconds you were now in Miguel’s position. His hand on your throat as he pressed his weight onto you “CALM THE FUCK DOWN!” He seethes.

Just as you were about to kick him where it hurts, his hand held your knee in place “Have to be quicker than that muñeca” he whispered into your ear. [t: doll]

Your eyes widened at the pet name. You swear you could feel your cheeks burn red and telling by the smile on his face you knew they were. “This is fun but can we have a normal conversation? Like civilized people?” He replied.

He got off you, holding a hand out for you to stand. You got up on your own, pushing past him as you heard a few whistles and ‘Miguel is flushed look at him’ from behind you.

“Fine. You have 5 minutes”

Miguel led you to his office, one hand on your lower back leading you. “Brave for a newcomer” the annoyingly attractive man smiled down at you “It’s obvious no one stands up to you, I’ll happily be the one to do so” you cooed.

“Sit” he commands while pointing at the chair in front of his desk. You nod and sit patiently for him to start “What do you know about Dr. Strange?” He questioned.

“He’s Dr. Strange what is there to know? He’s a private man for god sake. You surely have one in this universe, don’t you? He’s usually in every universe” you sighed.

“He’s never been in any I’ve visited”

“Or maybe you didn’t look well enough” you chuckle. “I have one in my universe and trust me you aren’t missing out. He only calls when he needs a helping hand and that’s about it” you shrugged.

“How do you know about the multi-verses?” He questioned. “Strange explained to me the importance of leaving it alone, we’ve seen universes almost disappear due to it. People have to learn you cannot change the past, present, or future without losing something so it’s best to just deal with it. In another universe, another life we are happy just think of that”

Miguel clears his throat at your words “Let me guess you lost something as well? By messing with this fucked up world? Who was it? A wife, mother, father, daughter?”

His hands slammed onto the desk in anger “NOT YOUR BUSINESS.” He seethed while he threw his papers on the ground. You knew he was hurting, That’s why he was acting like this.

“You know, I can tell this whole I’m mean and bad act is because your hurt. It’s not healthy to live in the past, we will just rot ourselves from within Miguel. Whatever you lost trust me you have it in another universe” You smile as you stand up, patting him on the shoulder as he doesn’t move a muscle.

“You don’t understand” he growled. “Trust me I do. Why do you think I’m friends with strange huh? I lost someone too you know. But instead of making everyone suffer with me, I decided to tr-“ you couldn’t finished your sentence before his lips crashed onto yours.

You were taken aback by the kiss but couldn’t help but moan into it. You pushed him back slightly “I don’t even know you Miguel” you smiled onto his lips “I know we can change that” he hummed as he lifted you onto his desk.

You were taken back by his actions, was a conversation all he needed to get this riled up?

“You know, out of all the spiders, no one’s said anything like that to me? Not one of them genuinely has a conversation with me” he sighs while pulling back. “Well, you don’t exactly let them say a word without screaming” you chuckle.

“That’s because they all pull away once I raise my voice. It was a surprise when a pretty thing like you came in acting like you own the place” Miguel cooed, his hands trailing up your hips as he pressed himself onto you.

“And I can tell you haven’t gotten laid in a while, you really gonna fuck a girl you just met huh?” You teased. “And are you really going to fuck a man you just met?”

“Maybe, If he can make me want it that bad” you winked, your hands ran down his chest, the spandex-like material of his suit outlining his chest and muscles in the most perfect way.

He chuckled at your response and wrapped your legs around his waist, lifting you before sitting down on his chair. You straddled him as he rocked onto you softly.

You’ve never done anything like this before, you were shocked by your compliance with his actions but you couldn’t help it. You told yourself everyone needed a one-time thing right?

“You sound so fucking pretty” he mumbled onto your neck, your soft sounds making him lose every bit of patience while you tangled your fingers into his hair.

You could tell he was wondering how to remove your suit, you were trying to hide your laugh but it came out either way.

“What’s so funny huh?”

“If you want to remove my suit you press this” You smiled as you grabbed his hand and lifted it behind your neck. His hand instinctively started massaging the nape of your neck as he pulled you into a kiss.

Completely off task with what you were showing him; each of you lost in the other's taste. “Ok, so how do I remove it?” He panted “Like this” You guided him as his fingers went on the hem of your neckline.

You pressed a button from the inside of your suit with his fingers “Like that” you whispered into his ear as you licked his cheek before kissing him.

Your suit was in his hands in a matter of seconds, tossing it somewhere behind him as his eyes admired your curves.

“Can’t believe I missed you out of all of the others” Miguel groaned. His hands not missing an inch of your body as you could feel his painfully hard bulge through his suit. “Take it off” you whined say you tugged at his. He chuckled at your neediness, and complying he tossed it along with yours.

You couldn’t believe other spiders like him existed. You’ve met a few but never ones that were this irritating and gorgeous, to say the least. “Like what you see princesa?” He mocked. [t: princess]

You rolled your eyes and pressed yourself onto him “I do”, you could feel his cock pressing onto your panties. His breathing was ragged and uneven as you nuzzled into his neck.

Sucking and kissing purple bruises onto his neck, your hands tangling into his hair. You felt his fingers tugging at your panties as a way to tell you to lift yourself a bit.

You did as told and let him toss your panties onto the pile of mess on the ground. “Although I love this pretty lace, it has to come off” he pouts as he pulls at your bra “Who knew you’d have this under the suit” he mumbled as he tossed your bra.

“Off” you demand as you tug at his boxers, he smiles in surprise as he sees you so needy “Alguien esta ansiosa”. “Oh shut up” you hiss as he leans onto the chair and brings your hands to his waistband. [t: someone is eager]

“If you want it so bad, take them off yourself” he cockily smiles. Your eyes narrow in annoyance but you were too needy to argue about it. Still on top of him, you tug his boxers down.

You clenched around nothing as his cock hit his stomach. You thought the whisper you let you wasn’t audible but your eyes shot up to his as he watches you with his hands behind his head.

“Love it that much already?”

You don’t bother responding as you go back to kissing him. His hands were back to their previous position, holding you tightly as you felt him rubbing between your folds.

“Shit..” you seethed. You felt his teeth sink into your skin, a loud moan coming from you causing you to slap your hands onto your mouth.

Miguel’s eyes shot up at your actions, his hands pulling them away as he pinned them onto your stomach “I don’t care who hears, hands on my shoulders”

As he ends his sentence he slams into you, your eyes rolling back while a shaky moan leaves you. He holds you onto him for a few seconds, taking in your soaked gummy walls before thrusting into you.

You could hear the wet pornographic sounds coming from the both of you as he fucked into you. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he wrapped one arm around your waist the other hugging you onto him.

“Love it so much doll, fu- fuck you feel so good”

It was much more intimate than you thought it would be, the way he never broke eye contact even when you squeezed your eyes shut and muttered incoherent sentences into his chest he watched you intensely.

Miguel wondered if this would go anywhere, he hoped it did. He had no reason why he acted on his needs so quickly with you, he hadn’t slept with anyone in a long time and had no problem with it, but the moment he saw you sitting in his office it was like a switch flipped.

“Look at the mess you make muñeca, shit. This pussy was made for me” he huffed. You couldn’t even say a word, the way he felt slamming into you was euphoric.

You could feel every inch of him inside you, the way he curved perfectly in you with each of his thrusts was intoxicating.

You were making a mess, you could feel the cum dripping down your thighs as you bounced on him. “Migu- fuck all for you, only you” you whined. The words spilling from you caused him to fuck you deeper “Nadie más te va ver como te miras orita, eres mía muñeca. Solo para mi” [t: nobody else is going to see you the way you look right now, you’re mine doll. Only for me] 

His tone was adoring, he loved seeing the way you clawed at his chest whenever he picked up his pace. Miguel couldn’t help but wrap a hand around your throat when you started to slump on him; lifting you he held you to his lips as he squeezed your throat.

“Feels good huh baby? Your eyes say it all” he groans onto your cheek, his hand still squeezing your neck. You can feel your vision getting hazy, your hand wrapped around his wrist as he smiled up at you.

He let go of your neck, a loud pant leaving you as you caught your breath. But before you could even think your mouth pressed onto his, you couldn’t help but kiss his saliva-covered lips.

His pornographic moans made you dizzy, his fingers piercing your hips as he fucked you senseless while you looked down at him with needy eyes.

You could feel the knot form inside your stomach as his pace picked up, each of his thrusts causing a shaky whimper to leave you as he watched you getting closer.

“O- oh- Migu- M-“ you were crying out words as the feeling of his cock slamming into you and the slight rubbing on your clit from his pubic bone was driving you to the edge.

“I know baby I know, let it out princesa. Gonna fill you full so they all know what happened in here” he chuckled. With that you let go, the thought of his cum spilling out of you made you drunk on him. [t: princess]

You were loud but he didn’t care to quiet you down, he loved hearing how good he was fucking you. “No one’s going to fuck you better than me, I just met you and you look like you’ve been doing this for a while” he cooed.

“You’ve fucked other guys like this huh? The first day you meet them you fuck them?” He questioned. You shook your head weakly, his cock still ramming into you as he watched you bounce along with his thrust.

“No? Don’t lie how many?”

“J- you only” you cried. You couldn’t take the overstimulation, tears streamed down your face as you felt yourself about to cum again. “Only me? How lucky am I huh?” He hummed.

You scratched at his chest, pushing him slightly as his finger moved between your legs and circled your clit. “N- oh m-“ you begged, you buried yourself into his neck as he whispered praise into your ear.

“Doing so good for me chula, feel s- so fucking good” he praised. You felt the mess between your legs run down your thigh, you hugged him as you felt yourself about to cum again. [t: pretty]

“I- Mig-“

“I know baby let it out, I’m f- go on” he seethed. You could tell he was close. His pace was sloppy and his grip on you was getting tighter. You cried out his name in pleasure, the 2nd orgasm hitting you harder than the first as tears streamed down your face.

Miguel’s loud moans filled your ears as he coated your walls. You could feel his cum dripping down to his lap as he messily fucked you onto him. His pace came to a halt, his grip on you was tighter than ever while he took in your warmth.

“Fuck…” he whispered as he kissed your jaw, peppering kisses up to your mouth and sloppily kissing you. Saliva was all over your mouths, the sounds of both of you sloppily kissing each other made Miguel groan.

“You still wanna leave?” He chuckles. Miguel fixes your hair, adjusting it back to normal as he whipped your tears and saliva with his hand. You shook your head, completely drained of energy as you buried yourself into his chest.

You were questioning why he was being so nice. He was just acting like a complete ass a few minutes ago and suddenly he’s treating you like you’ve been together all your lives.

“Do you know what’ll happen if a variant from different verses gets pregnant?” He hums. You shake your head, you’d deal with those thoughts later. All you wanted was to stay in his arms.

“Descansa, I’ll clean us up” he reassured. [t: rest]

[rafesfavbimbo]

The Other Woman.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Stripper!Reader

tw: Cheating! (not on reader) Drug & Alchohol use! Descriptions of smut! Angst!

“The other woman has time to manicure her nails

The other woman is perfect where her rival fails.”

Her arms feel like the sun on a breezy day. Shining on him and encasing him in warmth while the cool winds prickle at his skin. Her scent like a pheromone that was designed solely to attract him. Her skin like expensive silk under his fingertips, delicate and smooth. Her lips felt like satin, brushing and sponging against his skin, lips and body in a way that was entirely addictive. She was entirely addictive; she was his haven. The luxury between her legs only he had access too. Her arousal was a flavor that could never be matched and that he yearned for when she wasn’t on his tongue. Slipping inside her felt like he had a taste of heaven, something he was entirely dedicated to worshipping. She was a deity he would willingly sacrifice his soul and life to.

“Baby… she keeps calling you.” Whispered out that voice that was like a sweet symphony to his ears and calmed down the ocean of complex emotions that dwelled in his heart. Rafe groaned into disappointment at his moment of peace being interrupted once more, burying his face deeper in the softness of her tummy while her manicured nails grazed his scalp. Feeling the soft pricks of hair under her smooth finger tips, touching him with a delicacy only she knew how to have. He sighed once more before bringing his head up and reaching a hand over to the incessant buzzing next to them in her satin sheets. Watching as Sofia’s contact showed for the 5th time that hour.

Rafe can’t exactly blame her, he promised her a nice dinner. Yet, he got to caught up in the girl who captivated his entire being and the one whose inner legs he finds solace in every night or day he can. Just seeing her glimmering smile or seductive gaze makes his knees buckle. He’s entirely fascinated by her, like a diamond in the rough of people who inhabit the island they live on. She’s unlike anything or anyone he’s ever known, the way she maneuvers her body on stage and glimmers under the club lights. The way he was entirely bewitched by the siren she was. He won’t ever forget the night Topper and Kelce dragged him out to a club he had no interest in being at. Small, yet no conviction in his claims of, ‘I have a girl, bro.’ He’s so entirely grateful he went. Topper’s convincing of, ‘what she doesn’t know won’t kill her, man. Trust there’s this girl there that will drive you insane. She’s got me and Kelce hooked.’ To which Rafe gave a small eye roll and scoff of, ‘any girl with her tits out has your attention.’ Topper only laughed and Kelce along with him before biting back a, ‘but hers are premium.’ As they all toppled into his truck.

That night was fate, and he knew that any woman he met or has yet to meet will pale in comparison to the goddess who’s enthralled his being and keeps him stuck in a perpetual state of desire for her and her alone. The moment he saw her glide across stage, in nothing but glimmering lingerie and wild hair. Her eyes packed on with glitter and pretty lips glossed so enticingly. Her body the kind of thing men carve into stone to keep as a recollection for life. The way she slithered across stage with her eyes set on him and only him. Singling him out while the cheers and hoots of his friends, other club goers and patrons faded into the background. Both of them fascinated with one another. The way she slung herself across his lap with her freed tits pressing into him and her intoxicating perfume swirling around him like an aphrodisiac.

“The other woman enchants her clothes with French perfume.”

He paid for a lap dance that very night and let her help him escape in the private room under glaring, neon pink lights. Running his hands over every inch of her beautiful body as scraped her long nails against his skin and moved sensually across him. That night sealed their fate, and it didn’t take much convincing to let him take her home to Tannyhill. Making out in the back of Topper’s truck while him and Kelce smirked as they watched through the rear-view mirror. Praising their friend and promising to seal their lips when they were dropped off. That night y/n and Rafe brought their bodies and souls together, all night long. Sweat sticking them together as her inner thighs dripped with their mixed arousal. Their lips not leaving any inch of each other‘s bodies undiscovered. He marked her that night with his possession and allowed her to rake her nails down his strong back, calculating in his mind how he’d hide it from Sofia.

After that night any thought of another woman aside from the one under him was gone, his girlfriend included. The unsaid energy bringing their souls together as if they were lovers destined to meet. He licked and snorted lines off her body as he rubbed the powdery substance against her gums. Pouring champagne on her as he licked it up and let it soak his sheets right next to her arousal. She was like an added substance he was quickly growing addicted to and he knew this was an addiction that would never end. He took her apart over the balcony under the stars of the night sky as she whined and whimpered into the warm air. He was king and she would be queen.

-

Now months later their affair is still going strong, he more often than not finds himself entangled in her at her penthouse he put her into. Vowing to move her into his mansion next. He’s yet find a way to end things with Sofia, he knows y/n is the one he wants to settle with. He wants everything with her. Aside from the passion that connects them physically it’s the understanding of their minds that really links them together. She understands him, she loves him in all his dark glory. Allowing him to be himself without feeling the need to try and fix him. Her understands her, in all her shady grandeur. They’re just as fucked up as one another; she’s not ashamed of who he truly is. She doesn’t keep him from changing either, she grows alongside him as the learn to love one another beautifully.

Rafe tells her about his dad, the pogues, even the yearning he has to reconcile with his sister. He cries to her and lets her hold him as he sobs into her naked chest, feeling her kiss his tears away. She always whispers soft, ‘let it out, baby. it’s okay, I’m here.’ Consoling him with gentle caresses and kisses. He feels guilt, guilt for keeping her in the shadows of secrecy. Yet, he’s not ready for the universe they’ve built for themselves to come to an end. He doesn’t want to share her with the world, he’s selfish and wants her all to himself. He keeps her locked away in the luxurious penthouse he’s granted her and has even taken her out of the club by providing for her. She’s his hidden gem, he knows it hurts her. It hurts him too.

He finds it difficult to end things with Sofia. Her softness and kindness to him never forgotten. He’s still fond of the girl who was there for him when no one else was. Who listened to him cry and his grieving words as he spread his father’s ashes into the ocean. Sofia is familiar, she’s routine. She’s comfortable in a different way and he doesn’t want to let it go. He knows he deeply adores y/n, he loves her with every fiber of his being. But he loved Sofia first, she’ll always have a place in his heart for the kindness and love she granted him when he needed it most. That’s why he leaves y/n every morning to go back to her. He knows it’s cowardly; he knows it’s completely selfish. He can see the tears falling from her closed eyes as she pretends to be asleep while he softly walks around the bedroom as to not wake her when he leaves in the mornings. He always knows she’s awake. Especially when he presses a kiss to her forehead as he softly strokes her hair. Promising with a whisper to her skin that he’ll be back and that he loves her. He’ll always go back for her, he’ll always go back to her.

When he greets Sofia, she looks at him with those pretty doe eyes that are so different yet just as beautiful as the ones he’s grown accustomed to love. Natural lashes in comparison to y/n’s pretty extensions he pays for. They’re both so beautiful, yet so different to him. Especially in the way they hold his gaze. When he kisses Sofia it’s not quite as intoxicating, yet he likes it nonetheless. Her scent not as addictive but he still finds himself burying his nose into her neck as he hugs her. While Sofia is all earthly beauty, y/n is pure glamour. Sofia is soft, meek, not a touch of makeup kisses her pretty face. Whereas y/n is more resilient, durable and she has to be in the line of work she succumbed to. With the way of life she lived. Her gorgeous face accentuated by flawlessly done makeup. He doesn’t think she needs it, but he loves it nonetheless. Sofia’s nails are always blunt and rarely polished, y/n’s nails always have a nicely perfected manicure. Sofia loves sandals and sneakers, y/n loves wedges and heels. Sofia’s lips always moisturized with chapstick, y/n lips always glimmering with gloss. He likes how different they are from their personalities to their styles. They’re like day and night. Polar opposites so beautiful in their own right. He’s a selfish, selfish man. He knows one day he’ll have to choose, but for now….he holds both hearts in the palm of his hand. Only one of them is feeling the stabbing pain of abandonment and pining the other has the pleasure of not being subjected too. He knows it, yet he can’t help it. Sofia is pure routine, y/n is his passion. Being with her is like being inebriated. Like an adrenaline rush he always craves, that he loves. He lives for it.

“And when her old man comes to call

He finds her waiting like a lonesome queen.

‘Cause to be by her side

It's such a change from old routine.”

Y/n waits, she always will. She knows he’ll be back. She’s begged him to stay, but he never does. Just a quick promise of his awaited return as his fully clothed body steps to her naked one which is kneeling in the satin sheets. A representation of the vulnerability she’s subjected herself to just for his approval. Her long lashes clumped with tears as her chin wobbles. He thinks she looks so beautiful like this; the dark part of him liking the way she longs and whines for him. He always gives her chin a quick pinch as he pulls away from their kiss and steps out of the bedroom. Y/n always falls back into the sheets as the tears that watered in her lash line fall down her smooth cheeks. Listening to his footsteps farthering and ultimately the front door closing shut as he leaves her once more.

She knows why, she knows what she is. A secret, a mistress. His side girl. She can’t help it; the desire she has for him overcoming her self worth and respect for his girlfriend. She feels the grief that fills her body every time he leaves, only to disappear every time he returns. She can’t bring herself to end it. Can’t bring herself to leave him alone, or give him an ultimatum that it’s me or her. She knows it’s pathetic, yet she can’t bring that thought to overcome the undying love she’s developed for him. So she does as he wants, she waits for him. She always will. When her body lays back down, and she’s sure he’s gone. Only then is when she lets the overwhelming hurt leave her body in sobs of pure anguish as she lets sleep overtake her body. Succumbing to the fatigue of a heart that is continually broken.

“The other woman will always cry herself to sleep

The other woman will never have his love to keep.”

-

a/n: was feeling angsty tn ugh. i hope you all enjoy, pls let me know your thoughts! muah!

[astrow1zar6]

Venus Sign Observations- 011

Venus in Leo’s are those girls in hs you think “how early does she get up to get ready?” You rarely ever see this placement have ugly days they are all so well kept & usually smell incredible. The types to wear their hair in really trendy styles, wear designer outfits and perfumes. BIG on luxury. In a relationship they LOVE being shown off and given lots of attention and compliments. they also love when their partner begs for their attention.

Venus in Libras are really easy to impress lol, all you really have to be is semi attractive. My libra Venus friend every time we go out would be like “OMG THAT GUY IS SOOO CUTE” but say that about 15 other guys that day😂 the women can be VERY obsessed with the opposite sex. They are such flirty people.

Venus in Taurus gives conventional housewife vibes lol. They are into classic feminine hobbies such as sewing, cooking, making jewelry/ clothes, art. If you marry a women with this placement you hit the jackpot.

Venus in Scorpio men tend to be cheaters. Everyone talks about their loyalty but they are only really loyal once they feel they’ve truly found their soulmate (in most cases are rare cuz they’re picky) a lot get bored of their relationships once the passion dies (similar to Aries Venus). They tend to prefer emotionally complex women to keep them on their toes.

Venus in Aquarius’s tend to look really good with circle frame glasses. They pull it off soo well. Also if you have this placement and are looking for new fashion ideas. Look up cyberpunk/Dystopian aesthetic. Y’all would look amazing in that type of style.

Most Venus in Virgos I meet are not big on the physical aspect of love. It takes them SOOO long to open up physically. This causes a lot to get friend zoned. They express their love very differently from most Venus signs which can cause some confusion in their relationships. They are big on acts of service & the intellectual side of love.

Venus in Aries usually always makes the first move when liking someone ( man or woman) they can jump into relationships fast just for it to end just as quick. They really date for the excitement and fun of having a new crush. But once that it becomes deeper than a crush and gets serious most usually back out. Also they can get turned on my arguing. When things become dull they will normally create some issue to keep the sparks alive. To more sensitive signs this can be very draining.

Venus in Geminis are very hard to pin down. I notice their feeling for their partners never seem quite genuine? I notice even in relationships they try to seek out attention from other people. They need a lot of mental stimulation to keep their full attention on one person. And if they’re partner fails to stimulate them they’ll find someone else who can. It’s very rare they catch true feelings for someone but when they do they’re surprisingly loyal.

Venus in Pisces kinda irritate me lol. The men are always talking to different women. They are big on following their heart, but if their hearts tells them to talk to five girls they would😭 it’s very rare to see the men of this placement settle with one woman. The women of this placement I notice are amazing lovers but tend to give it to usually terrible neglectful partners:( I’ve seen women with their placements bust their ass for men that barely give them the time of day.. y’all deserve a lot better than that.

Sagittarius Venus’s tend to date people who are a different ethnicity as them or date from foreign countries. They have a deep appreciation for culture and traveling. So they may also travel with their partner a lot. This is imo the most loyal Sagittarius placement. I’ve seen people be in relationships for years with this placement.

Cancer Venus’s are extremely sweet and nurturing in a relationship. Gives Mommy vibes 🥺. The types to bring you home cooked meals get your bath water running. A lot a notice tend to be very submissive/vanilla. They require a lot of emotional attention and babying even themselves. They types to prefer at home dates compared to traveling or going out.

Capricorn Venus tends to take partnerships like it’s a job (similar to Virgo Venus) they see attending to their partners needs more like a duty which is why they can appear cold in their affections even though they mean well. Emotionally it can be harder to connect with this sign but once they trust you they’ll show you a very sensual romantic side they’ve been hiding. They mostly express love through gift giving. These partners give some of the best most expensive gifts. Just know you’ll be taken good care of if this placement loves you 👌🏽

Venus in Scorpios look AMAZING in black. Any dark aesthetic look great on them. And they may prefer partners with a darker aesthetic as well

Venus in Aries women tend to feel more comfortable having male friends than other women. Usually we’re tomboys growing up

Libra Venus’s are usually really good at makeup or look amazing with a full face of makeup.

[calisources]

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All these quotes are taken from different works of fiction and depict sensual, sexual tension between two people in different scenarios. There are some that are suggestive while others are more detail so this meme is nsft and usft, please tag accordingly. Mentions of jealousy, possessiveness, sex, fantasies are all here. Change pronouns, names, locations as you see fit.

I knew the first moment I saw him that it was going to be raw, it was going to be ugly, and I was going to enjoy every damn minute of it.

You're still looking.

You make it hard to look away.

I'm over here keeping my hands and memories to myself because you asked me to, that’s not fair.

If you'd just man up and admit there's something between us, I would strip down to my skin so you could see every single inch of me.

How long are you going to make me wait?

How awfully presumptuous of you to think I'd let you.

You missed my arrogance almost as much as I missed your impudence, little one.

You said not to fall for you. Did you change your mind?

We both needed to blow off some steam, and we did, right?

They say the colour of a lady’s lips is an exact match to another region on the body?

You're too soft.

Can we go back to making out now?

You sound jealous.

Then tell me this is what you truly want. Swear you want this more than anything else and I'll never mention it again.

If you want me to play the bawd, at least give me the benefit of your advice.

Tell me how it's done. Do you think she'd like it if I came to her like this, if I looked deeply in to her eyes?

And then like this? Is this how I ought to seduce her?

You're wet, aren't you?

You drove me mad.

She asked me not to be gentle with her, either,I would have been gentle with you, though.

I would have had you moaning my name throughout it all. And I would have taken a very, very long time, Feyre.

I'm all yours to look at, you know.

You need to let me go, darling, before we start something I intend to finish.

Feel free to touch, darling. It's all yours.

. . .I hate you.

Say it again.

Grind it. Nice and fine.

I gave him a few smiles and he handed over a family heirloom. I bet he'd give me the keys to his territory if I showed up wearing those undergarments.

Why shouldn't I? You seem to have difficulty not staring at me day and night.

Am I supposed to deny, that I find you attractive?

Is that a challenge, Feyre?

Do you think it's fair that you have seen every inch of me, and I have seen none of you?

Move with me now.

Touch me anywhere you please.

I want you to make love to me.

Do you know what that truly means?

You do know? You know that I will be inside you and that I will move inside you, until we are both mad from pleasure?

I want you inside me.

You have three minutes to get ready now.

I did dream about you. I didn’t want to, but I did.

What was I doing in your dreams?

Someone is watching us through the window.

All the more reason to put on a good show.

You're not in a position to make demands.

The best things are found in the most secret places.

And you are a beautiful, sexy temptress who is about to be fucked by a man who wants her so desperately he's willing to do anything to have her.

When I'm with a woman, it's not me doing the begging.

You're rubbing yourself all over me. What did you think was going to happen?

I thought you were all about self-control.

I remember how powerful those thighs are.

You are more beautiful than I imagined.

And your skin... Christ, it shimmers like gold.

I'm naked underneath.

Tell me----did it get you off knowing I was watching?

I want to take you under the moonlight.

Please, don’t stop.

Oh, so I shouldn’t? That would be cruel of me, wouldn’t it?

I am the cruelest man you will ever meet, but, I will make you feel so good, you will not care.

I’ve never been with a man before.

You do bad things to me, Carrie. Very bad things.

And you, Miss, are no lady.

[dekariosclan]

Imagine Gale as a talented and impressive young man, able to compose the Weave at will, skilled in a way that few can match, and favored by the Goddess of Magic herself. Imagine that because of these accomplishments, he’s caught the eye of a few up-and-coming magic adepts, and he falls in love with one of them—his first real love. Gale isn’t one to toss the ‘L’ word around lightly, so when he tells them he loves them, he means it; he gives himself over to them completely.

And in return, they love him for his potential. For his status. For the magic he can command. They love the wizard they see on the surface, but not the man underneath. They are attracted to his power, but not to him.

So of course the relationship fails, after the thrill of his magic wears off. But because Gale is a resilient young man and he’s caught the eye of so many, he soon falls in love with another.

And then it happens again. And again.

And each time Gale’s heart is ravaged, his ambition to become a better wizard grows, because he’s being shown time and time again that his magic ability is all that matters.

So much so that, by the time Mystra decides to elevate him from Favored to Chosen to Lover, he welcomes her with eager, desperate arms. Because if all his worth is in his magic, and that’s all he has to offer, and that’s all anyone wants from him, who better to love him than the Goddess of Magic herself?

Except…there’s a nagging voice in the back of his head that whispers she doesn’t really love him. There’s anxiety in his heart as time passes, and he reaches both the limit of what his talents can do and what Mystra will allow him to do. And most troubling of all: a growing panic that, just like his other lovers, she will soon grow tired of him and discard him if he can’t improve his magic any further.

He tries pouting, and pleading, and begging her to let him take more power, to let him be more for her, but she refuses. Smiles patronizingly. Tells him to be patient. But Gale can’t be patient when his power is tied so closely to his self-worth; he can’t be patient when doing so in the past has only ever lead to heartache.

So he does what he believes will be a Grand Romantic Gesture, one that will finally put him on equal footing with the woman he loves. Instead, it turns out to be a folly that dooms him and destroys his talents. And just as he’d always feared, Mystra tosses him aside the moment his magical gifts are gone—because what’s left of him holds no value for her.

————

Imagine Gale in his tower, alone, afraid, the ever-hungry orb in his chest, with only his tressym there to help him. No other friends to speak of. His colleagues forced to keep away for their own safety. His magical talents utterly stripped down, so that even when he does try and distract himself with illusions, he’s bitterly reminded of what he used to be capable of. Waking every morning wondering if it will be his last, ending every day full of loneliness and disappointment.

…and then he meets Tav.

At the lowest point in his life, at his most vulnerable, when he knows he’s going to be considered a burden, he meets this stranger and their group. So he does what he can to be useful—assigning himself to be camp cook, offering up his (now meager) magic skills, turning the charm up to 11—as he desperately hopes this will somehow work out. He’s pleasantly surprised when, after providing only minor details of his condition, Tav agrees to help him. He’s even more surprised when they actually follow through.

Imagine how Gale feels as Tav treats him kindly. As he grows to trust Tav, and then grows to like them. Imagine his surprise as he opens up and shows them more and more of himself, and they don’t turn him away.

But then his condition worsens. And he has to reveal everything: the foolish mistakes he’s made, and how dangerous he is as a result. He clings to Tav’s hand as he shows them his folly. He’s at their mercy now, and he knows this might be the last time he’ll ever feel the touch of another being, if they decide—and Gods, why wouldn’t they decide?—to cast him out.

…but they don’t. They don’t. Instead, they tell him to stay.

Imagine the relief Gale feels. The gratitude. And perhaps…just a hint of something more. Something that he dare not name, but that flares to life every time he thinks of how warm their hand was in his. Something that feels dangerously close to jealousy, when he’s had too much to drink and sees Tav smiling at another…

But he knows these are all foolish thoughts, because he has nothing to offer Tav. They are wonderful just as they are, but he…he is an empty shell of a man, a discarded husk of a wizard, and while they might tolerate him, he could never believe they might actually want him.

And besides, he still thinks of Mystra. He still longs for Mystra. She who cast him out, but to whom he still feels tethered. Sometimes he needs to cocoon himself in the weave, just to try and calm his fears and bring some joy back to his life, because magic is his life. And sometimes he just needs to see her face, even though that hurts as much as it heals.

One night he’s lost in thought, having conjured Mysta’s image after settling down at camp. Thinking that even if she hadn’t ‘loved’ him—certainly not in the way he’d loved her—she’d given him enough otherwise, hadn’t she? She’d amused him and been amused by him, they’d shared countless pleasures, why hadn’t he been satisfied with that?

Gale is so lost in thought he doesn’t realize Tav has come up behind him. Until they ask a question, startling him out of his trance. He’s a bit shaken, so he tries to turn the conversation from Mystra to the weave itself. And then a wonderful idea occurs to him, something that he’d been toying with already: what if they were to conjure the weave together?

He can show Tav how important magic is to him, let them experience what he does, perhaps even impress them a bit. But most importantly, share a moment with them. As friends would do…

He’s elated when Tav agrees. He leads them through the steps effortlessly, and they’re a surprisingly good student, following his instructions correctly (if a bit clumsily). He’s as excited as they are—perhaps even more so!—when they succeed in channeling the weave.

It’s such a pleasant, familiar feeling for him, like coming home to his tower in Waterdeep. Even as the weave connects him with Tav and makes them one, he’s easily able to hide his innermost thoughts, because he’s done it so many times before.

…but he’s forgotten that Tav has not.

————

Imagine Gale knowing every romantic partner he ever had only wanted him because of how he could raise their status, or how he could amuse them, or how he could command magic for them. And, each time, he was happy to oblige them, even desperate to oblige them, because if that was the price of their love, then he was sure it would be worth it.

But it still all came to nothing.

Now imagine Gale connected in an intimate way with someone he likes very, very much—while being what he considers his lowest, most worthless, and most humbled self. As far from the powerful, impressive wizard he once was as he could ever be. And suddenly a vision enters his mind from the lovely creature standing next to him. Only, to his complete and utter shock, it isn’t one where he is providing them with a service, or wowing them with his magical ability, or granting them some kind of power from one of the spells he commands.

Instead, when he sees their desire laid bare before him, it’s a vision of kissing him. Of holding his hand. The two most basic forms of affection and physical connection. The two things that he would still be able to offer them even if every last ounce of his remaining magical abilities were stripped from him. The two things he could share with them even if he was no longer Gale of Waterdeep, and just plain old Gale Dekarios instead.

Imagine the embarrassment and trepidation he feels at first, because surely he is mistaken?…and then the elation when he realizes that he is not. So much elation that his concentration is broken, the weave dissipating as he forgets about channeling it, as he forgets about Mystra. Because all that matters to him now is the image before him—the most pleasant and welcome image he’s seen in a very, very long time.

Imagine how that would feel…and how besotted, enamored and completely devoted he’d be to Tav afterwards. To know that someone finally—finally—just wants him.

Just imagine.

[eowynstwin]

Blackbird, Fly - One

Cowboy Gaz x mail order bride—only, not his. After exchanging letters for half a year with ranching man Hans König, you finally travel out west to marry him. - You stand alone on a train platform, whole life in your hands, ready to promise yourself to a man you’ve yet to meet. - ao3

You step off the train carrying every one of your earthly possessions clutched in both hands. In one a carpetbag, only half-full, and in the other, a stack of letters tied together with string. A paltry summary of a very small life, you thought months ago, but today you only see how much room is left over where happiness might take root.

It began with an ad in the paper—Widowed Ranch Owner Seeking Tender Companionship—and a mailing address to a livestock town out in the west. Hans König described himself as Austrian, unusually tall, and fair lonesome in a big ranch house with no woman to make it a home. He’d immigrated to the United States as a child, married very young, had no children, and was forced to watch his first wife perish to consumption.

After two years of mourning, he said in the paper, he finally accepted that she would not want him to live and die alone. And thus, if there were any kind-hearted lady willing to give an old widower a chance, he would promise to take very good care of her.

You’d replied as fast as you could get your hands on paper and pen. The fourth child and only daughter of a tobacco farmer, you hadn’t much else to occupy yourself with. And truly, you hadn’t expected anything to come of it. Proficient in the written word though you were, there was not much else to recommend you. You brought a tiny dowry, skill with a sewing needle, a general knowledge of plants, and mediocre cooking to the bargaining table; he was horse man tried and tested by the challenges of the frontier.

You were under no illusions that you were the most attractive candidate.

Still, you wrote your letter. Described yourself to him as honestly as you could—neither especially pretty nor particularly accomplished, but told by friends and family to be of gentle demeanor and useful intelligence. Forgave him preemptively if he never responded, and wished him the best of luck in his search for a wife.

You’d nearly fainted dead away when his response had arrived as immediately as the next mail wagon. Hans König had addressed you by name, as intimately as if he’d known you for years, and said,

I was very pleased to receive your letter, Miss, and am terribly excited to correspond with you in the future. Although you write that you cannot imagine yourself an appropriate wife for a man of my experience, I myself cannot imagine what more you must need to be such. While I will not do you the discourtesy of making any promises with only my first letter to you, I will tell you truly that I was glad of your introduction, and hope you will grant me the pleasure of knowing you further.

Your whole family had been so excited for his response that Pa had broken out his fiddle after dinner that night, rejoicing already that his little girl’s future was secure.

What followed was a whirlwind half year of romance over letters sent back and forth so fast that you kept running out of ink for your pen. When you’d related this problem to Hans, he’d sent not only an entire box of lampblack ink, but a new steel pen, blotter, and lap desk on which to write.

There is no greater misfortune I can imagine now than to lose the pleasure of your correspondence, he’d written.

Pa had cried that day. Your mother had drawn you close and kissed your hair, whispering a thankful prayer that her baby was going to be alright.

In every letter, Hans demonstrated himself to be a kind man, thoughtful and patient, and as the relationship between the two of you blossomed, you started to believe it yourself. You had long given up on the possibility of marriage, thinking yourself too old and plain by now to offer much to any man worth marrying.

Now you stand alone on a train platform, whole life in your hands, ready to promise yourself to a man you’ve yet to meet.

There are only a few people milling about the station for you to survey. The surest way to pick Hans out from a crowd, he’d written, was by height. He towered over most people, and expressed hope in an early letter that he would not dwarf you too much.

But as you look around, no one stands out above the rest. In fact, the people here aren’t much different than what you’re used to; their simple dress and slight grubbiness prove them to be working folk, the kind you’d expect in a town like this, stockyards visible from the station. Your kind of people—at least normally.

Anticipating this meeting, you’d put on the best dress you own, a light frock with little printed flowers all over it. Your hair is braided and pinned up as fashionably as you could manage early this morning, and you’d even dabbed a little rouge on your lips for the occasion. As far as you can tell you are the cleanest, best-dressed person in the vicinity, and you notice not a few people openly staring.

The thought would usually make you blanch, but right now you hope it will only help your would-be husband to catch sight of you. You still can’t find him—

“Mrs. König!”

You whip your head in the direction of the call. Relief trickles through you, soothing an anxiety you hadn’t wanted to acknowledge yet, and then you see that stepping onto the platform is the handsomest man you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Dark skin, warm as a summer’s day. Lips soft and full like a peach fresh-picked from the tree. A serious brow over serious eyes.

Strong and lean in build, with a loose, confident swagger in his step. He approaches, his large, long-fingered hands coming to rest on the buckle of his belt as comes to stand before you.

Tall, to be sure.

But not unusually tall.

This cowboy—profession evidenced by the worn state of his attire—is not your intended husband.

Something in you falls at that.

Swiftly you berate yourself for the betrayal. Your Hans is gentle, generous, kind. So what if this man before you is attractive? Marriages must be built on more, and Hans has already given you more. His looks shouldn’t—don’t—matter to you at all.

“Not as of yet,”you reply to the cowboy, “but soon. May I help you, sir?”

He fixes you with an intense gaze. Up close, you see thick, dark lashes framing even darker eyes—the color of which, you realize, is as black as fresh-turned soil.

The smell of humus fills your memory, powerfully earthy and fresh, such that you could be on your hands and knees with your face to the ground right now. You feel the phantom of it between your fingers; rich and cool, like at the start of the planting season before the rains. So dark and fine as to live between the grooves of your fingertips for days.

“I’m Kyle Garrick,” he says, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’m a wrangler for Hans König, miss. He sent me to meet you.”

You blink. The fantasy you’d dreamed up on the train ride—of seeing Hans across the platform, recognizing him instantly, and running into his arms—finally crumbles into dust.

“Oh,” you say.

Kyle Garrick frowns. “You’re disappointed.”

“No!” you exclaim immediately. “No, he must be such a busy man, I couldn’t expect him to drop everything for me.”

The cowboy sucks his lips between his teeth, studying you for a heartbeat, then—“He is busy. Mr. König is finishing preparations for your wedding this evening. That’s why he couldn’t come.”

What disappointment had begun to sprout in your stomach immediately strangles down to the root. Joy surges in your chest like birds taking flight.

“A wedding!”

You didn’t need a wedding, you’d written to him—you were so happy merely to marry him, you couldn’t possibly ask for more. All you needed, you told him, were his hands in yours, promising before God to be your husband for the rest of your lives. You’d meant it, too.

But an actual wedding!

“Biggest the town’s seen in years,” says Kyle Garrick. “Folks haven’t talked about anything else for weeks.”

“Oh!” Then suddenly you despair. “Oh, I’m not dressed at all for a wedding. If I’d known, I would’ve worked on this dress more, I would’ve put my hair up better!”

Kyle surprises you with sudden passion. “You look perfect. You’re the prettiest thing that’s ever come into this train station, miss. This town, even.”

“Oh,” you say again. You flush hot up into the roots of your hair. Embarrassed, you avert your gaze, looking down at his worn roper boots. “I’m not, really. But it’s kind of you to say.”

His hand touches yours, the one holding onto your carpetbag. When you look back up at him, his expression is gentler.

“Mr. König will agree with me,” he says, “I promise.” He eases the handle from your grasp. Up close, he has a comforting smell. Leather, and sweet hay, and campfire smoke.

“You think so?” you ask, tightening your grasp on the letters in your other hand.

He nods. “I do. Now come on—I brought a cart. Let me take you home.”

-

next

[bratscave]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 IN ANOTHER LIFE !

summary. falling in love with a old! driver, who's name was james while you were still in college was one thing — but finding out that he was wolverine after his death and meeting another version of him, was another.

includes/warnings. lots of flashbacks (sex heavely implied!!), let's just pretend he was an uber driver or smth cause miss college princess had no money for a limousine for sure :/, there will be chpt 2 dw!!

You remembered that first time like it was yesterday. It had been raining, one of those cold, relentless downpours that drenched you the moment you stepped outside. It had been your first day back at physical collage after all the online classes, all nervous, fumbling with your phone as you waited for the car to pull up.

He was intimidating, didn't utter a single thing, you quickly learned he wasn't a big fan of small talk. You had tried to make conversation, anything to fill the suffocating silence. You’d rambled on about the rain, about how much you hated storms, but Logan had only grunted in response, his gaze fixed firmly on the road. You’d thought that was his way of telling you to shut up, and for a while, you had.

But silence had always been uncomfortable to you, so you continued talking, about school, your shitty new teachers, your weekend plans. Anything that crossed your mind, really.

He had pretty hands, veiny n' all. That's what you thought when you first saw them, inappropriate thoughts to have about a man who was so much older then you. But back then, you weren't actually planning on doing anything about that small attraction.

It had been a particularly bad day — the kind where nothing seemed to go right, where you felt like the universe itself had a problem with you specifically and decided to make your life hell. You had barely held it together as you climbed into Logan’s car, your hands shaking as you fumbled with the door.

And for the first time in months, the car was quiet.

But you remembered the way he drove slower than usual, the way his eyes had softened every time they flicked to the rearview mirror. When he pulled up in front of your apartment, he had turned to face you for the first time, his voice low and gravelly: “It’s just a test, bub. You’ll be alright.”

You had always asked yourself weather he listened to your ramblings or not, the fact that he remembered that you had an exam that day, clearly proved one of your points.

It was such a simple thing to say. And if any other person would've said it, you would've given them attitude because nothing had been going alright that day and you were sure you had failed the damn thing.

But when he said it, you believed him.

“When does your shift end?”

Logan didn’t respond at first, his brow furrowing as he kept his eyes on the road. For a moment, you thought he hadn’t heard you, or maybe he was just ignoring you like he usually did when he didn’t want to answer a question.

But then, he glanced at you again, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Why?”

Your breath caught in your throat, but you pushed through, your voice softer this time. “I know a place. Quiet. You might actually like it."

For a second, you thought he was going to say no — that he was going to shut this down before it even started.

But then, he muttered a rough, “Sure,” and the air in the car shifted.

The tiny ramen shop was a street down your apartment complex, the prices were afforadable, for your college-spent wallet to afford, at least.

The familiar bell over the door chimed, and the owner — a small, elderly woman. She had made a lighthearted comment about 'you finally getting a man' and you were sure you had seen logan fight a grin.

You glanced at Logan as he sat across from you, his gaze sweeping over the modest interior. His lips quirked, just a little, at the sight of the place, like he found it amusing in a way you couldn’t quite place. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and for a second, you forgot what you were going to say.

But you'd quickly gather yourself, a chuckle escaping you at his antics, "Don't give me that look. You'll like it."

You didn't talk a lot, for the first time around him, you didn't feel the need to.

When the bill came, you reached for it, but Logan’s hand shot out, his fingers brushing against yours. The brief contact sent a jolt through you, your breath catching as you looked up at him.

“I’m paying,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl.

You shook your head, determined. “No. I invited you. I’m paying.”

His brow furrowed, and for a moment, you thought he was going to argue. But instead, he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, giving you a look that screamed ‘you’re being ridiculous.’

“I’m not letting you pay.”

“Well, tough shit. I’m paying,” you shot back, pulling the bill toward you and slapping your card down on the table before he could react.

Logan let out a deep, frustrated sigh, but the corner of his mouth twitched, just for a second. “Stubborn as hell,” he muttered, shaking his head.

When you finally stepped outside, the cold air hit you harder this time, cutting through the warmth of the ramen still lingering in your stomach. You wrapped your arms around yourself, shivering slightly as you started walking back toward your apartment.

“I’ll walk you,” Logan said, his voice gruff as he fell into step beside you.

You shot him a look, raising an eyebrow. “It’s literally down the street. I think I’ll survive.”

Logan didn’t respond. He just started walking down the street into the direction of the complex, his larger frame casting a long shadow over the pavement. You smiled though he didn't see it, in your humble opinion he was the stubborn one.

It took you all your courage to press out a, "Wanna come in?" after he walked you all they way to your door.

You had silently cursed yourself for not tidying up the space before wards, everything was just such a mess.

Shelves stacked with vinyl records lined one wall, your favorite albums mixed in with a few old books and random knick-knacks. Posters hung slightly crooked, tacked up without much care for symmetry, while polaroid pictures were scattered across the walls.

And then there were the plushies—so many plushies—bright pops of Sanrio characters peeking out from the corners of the couch, the bookshelves, even the bedroom beyond, where they seemed to be taking over your bed. A pink Cinnamoroll pillow lay tossed on the couch, its floppy ears slumping over the armrest like it was too tired to stay upright.

Logan’s eyes swept over everything, taking it in with a slow, deliberate gaze. You could see the corner of his mouth twitch again, that same almost-smile from the ramen shop, but this time it didn’t go away as quickly.

“You’ve got… a lot going on here,” he muttered, nodding toward the Sanrio plushies with a low grunt, but there was no judgment in his voice. Just something… curious.

You rolled your eyes, kicking your shoes off by the door. “I like cute stuff. Sue me.”

“Cute stuff,” he repeated, letting out a low, amused sound, but his eyes stayed on you, lingering just a little too long as you made your way to the couch.

He picked up one of the countless vinyls, carefully sorted next to a shelf, running his rough fingers over it. Something older from the 70s.

The next time you play that record, you'll think about how he kissed you on your coach a few minutes later. started of slow and tender, went all sloppy.

Maybe you’ll think about how he whispered your name, low and gravelly, like it was the only thing grounding him. Or the way his lips found your shoulder, kissing a line down your collarbone as he leaned you back against the cushions, his body hovering over yours, every inch of him pressing into you until you could barely think straight.

You’ll remember how his weight felt on top of you — solid, real.

“Christ,” he’d muttered against your throat, his breath hot, rough as he began moving. You highly doubted he believed in christianity or any religion at that, but the way he treated your body; felt like he was starting to believe in a new one, worshipping and all.

You had talked a lot that night, a few more hours, before you both fell asleep on same coach. It was the first time you heard multiple sentences beside just grunts and nods, from him.

If you only knew just how fast he'd leave you.